Do we wait till it gets as bad?

She has to feel like the sun could burn her if she stands directly under it without the protection of her multi-layered attire.

So when a girl walks out wearing clothes from neck to toes, she wonders if she is safe, because her mother insisted she would be.

She knows she's not.

People tell her "You're safe! It's all okay!" but it's not and it's not the sun that scares her!

From childhood to adulthood girls are never allowed to show skin, ever.

If at all at any point they do, they're smitten for it verbally, physically, mentally, emotionally, by parents, friends, relatives, and strangers on the road.
Until man decides to whack them for no reason at all when they're on the street and he masturbates as they walk by, just because.

She knows someone somewhere is watching her, just because she's a woman.

She knows someone somewhere is plotting to hurt her, just because she's a woman.

- When a man whistles at her as she walks across the road, she thinks it's her fault. She immediately thinks of the mole between her breasts and curses, wondering if her kurti has too low a neck.

- When a man ogles at her, she thinks she made him do it. She may have looked at him for a second too long, or maybe she had it coming because she wore a t-shirt that covered her completely, but that's never enough and she knows it.

- When a man masturbates, he enjoys her terror at the realisation of what he's doing. She thinks she should've acted slower, gotten him caught in the act and made sure that she took slow steps towards the matter.

- When a man rapes her, she is made to feel that it was her fault and she invited it. The worst part is that if it isn't rape, it isn't even a crime. So long as her senses have suffered, but her "body is still pure", she is fine.

To the world, I, am a woman only if!

Only if, I have become the living avatar of Goddess Kali and taken my revenge.

After all, I cannot feel mutilated before I feel anger, and once I feel the anger, I'm acting irrationally.

So when men do things to us, look at us in a way we know is wrong, touch us in a way we don't want, force us to feel things that make us cower in fear as we cross the street in broad daylight, we feel men don't care if a woman feels, screams, or breathes.

It feels like they're hollering, "She's a woman. She knows what's coming to her."

We are never allowed to feel completely safe, because we are baby making machines.

Every time something bad happens to one of us, we try to subdue the pain thinking at least it wasn't a bad as..., till it gets as bad and then worse and there's no way out.

This post was featured here!

Humanity In A Nutshell

The opening of each pistachio shell is not big enough for the whole nut inside to just fall out by itself.

Salted pistachios sound and taste so crisp.

Sometimes its as easy as peeling a banana and sometimes you have to struggle and break your nails to crack it open only to find out that there's nothing inside.

Humanity in a nutshell.

Empty insde!

Just A Woman: Part 3

'Just Another Rant'

Trust your vibes. Energy doesn't lie.

Click on the above picture to read this post on BlogAdda!

I've adopted a routine these days.
Every morning I meditate and listen to my inner voice.

Whatever it says, I do.

And since then I've been really happier than before.
The evening jogs that I go for have been more of a detoxification of mind than body.

It might seem silly, but for someone like me who has been through so much, even these little bits of joy, satisfaction and fulfilment of self leaves me so content that  I forget those dark days and begin to believe that I can love and live again.

You would laugh, but sometimes my morning desire isn't very demanding, there are days when I long for a tiny piece of cake and then there are times when I want to go places far away.

No matter how trivial this voice and teensy these desires might seem, but trust me, they energise you when you listen to them!

I wish I had always listened to my energy and let it flow free.

I am happy when I hear my inner voice and I realise now I can actually listen to it!

Fallacious Vegetarianism

I am a vegetarian, also, non-violence is one of my overly valued principles. and this is something that not just me but my forefathers have been following since hundreds of years, even before M. K. Gandhi was born.

I live in a place where you will meet various breeds of humans and their copious customs - all in all, you can find all kinds of everything and not once in 26 years has this country failed to amuse me, though there have been certain instances which made me lose faith in my own species.

One of the most disturbing things that I have come across is that how assuredly some devout (not mentioning the religion) individuals go about with their non-violent propaganda yet kill helpless birds and harmless animals for the mere taste of the tongue.

But mind you, they only do it on specific days of the week!

They suddenly become vegetarians on Tuesdays, Thursdays and some on Saturdays.

They together mass murder numerous animals, slit their throat and let them bleed, fish them out of water and boil or fry them alive just for that halal taste which sets them in a trance that they forget their (not) much valued principles.

This has somehow become a culture and wherever I go I see them plead before huge idols and pictures of their god to forgive them for not abiding by the 'Shakahaari Somvaar' rule! And they expect to be forgiven because - 'akhir wo bhi insaan hai, galti ho jaati hai!'

I asked a few of them about their weird rules, and I wasn't disappointed this time either.
Below are some revelations that left me astounded.

According to them, killing animals on certain days of the week is a sin and on other days it's not.

Why I ask?

Is it because God only watches over you on those days? Or is it because on Tuesdays animals don't feel pain? Or is it because on Saturdays lives don't matter?

See, its either that your God forbids you from eating meat at all, or He doesn't. It can't be both ways.

For those who only eat a certain type of flesh because the other animals are impure (like a pig) or sacred (like a cow) is a very vague reason to avoid eating them. You either eat flesh or you don't. How does anyone or anything become overly impious or divine? I just don't get it.

And those who follow more than one religion often give a reason that they have these strange principles only because they don't want to disappoint either deities. So they fix days. Wow. I really have nothing to say. They are clearly eluding their principles and their 'Gods'.

There is just one religion- the religion of god and one family. The rest are just beguiling philosophies, some of which were charted down for our own selfish gains.

There are atheists too and they also follow this weird timetable.

They are only vegetarian for day just because they would like to spare innocent lives once a week.
Why don't you stop eating animals altogether? That way more lives would be spared than you can ever think.

This motivated me towards something really impressive - 

Like Shakahaari Somvaar, I too can have Murderous Monday - Can murder anyone you like!

This way I could murder someone on one day, become a monk on the other.
(I'll only be killing once a day unlike these fallacious vegetarians who kill any other day they like.)

And I would never be punished or reprimanded for that.

I could ask God forgiveness on other days of the week and I would be mercifully forgiven.

Wouldn't that be great?

Just A Woman: Part 2

A few years ago Kalki Koechlin sat down in front of a crowd and wowed them with her poetic performance:
'Dear Men'.
It was so inspirational that I could not let it ebb into the vast web.
This is why this video exists. 

Please share these amazing words.

The Feels of Anxiety

I'm not a good conversationalist and it makes me seem like a shitty friend. I don't jump into conversations. I'm quiet in groups and people assume that I'm sitting there, judging them.
But I'm just in awe of how easily they can communicate. How natural it is for them! How human they are!
I'm terrified of talking on the phone and starting conversations with strangers. I'm even scared of texting certain friends and coming on too strong. So I wait too long to answer back.
I don't let on that I care. But I care more than anyone realises. I care so much that it hurts. I don't reach out to people.
I come across as a snob, because I find it hard to talk, hard to force a smile.
But I'm not trying to be rude. I'm only trying to survive.
They just think I'm quiet, shy. They don't realise I have anxiety, because I'm not shaking at the table and hyperventilating into a paper bag.
And if someone happens to talk to me, I freak out so badly that I go around telling people the whole conversation just so because my anxiety tells me they could turn up against me and no matter what I must make sure that doesn't happen and that person doesn't dare talk to me ever again.
My meltdowns happen before I see them. The night before, on my drive there, on my bike - I'm freaking out the entire time imagining all the things that could go wrong, picturing how embarrassed I'll be. But when I'm finally in public, I internalise everything- I'm still anxious, I'm just not showing it. Secretly, I'm freaking out over what I look like. Freaking out over what to say next. Freaking out over why someone across the room gave me a strange look.
And if I need to compose myself, I escape to the bathroom and breathe heavy inside a stall or splash my face with water and then walk back into the room like I'm perfectly fine.
But I'm not fine.
Anxiety makes sure I'm never fine.
It makes me turn down opportunities that I know I'd enjoy.
It makes me stay quiet when I have something important to say.
In all honesty, anxiety makes me look like an asshole!

This was so unexpected! ROFL

I couldn't stop ROFLing when I saw this.

I didn't need any cues to get me rolling there! Haha

Too bad US!

Anyone who doesn't get the sarcasm here, ping me ;)

Just A Woman: Part 1

Just a woman making a difference.
Probably one of the most stirring invective against a culture that maybe going morally numb, one newspaper edition at a time. Kalki Koechlin performs a self written poem titled 'The Printing Machine': a rhythmic and scathing satire against daily broadsheets, magazines, social media and textbooks. 

Bad days do end.

Hey, I'm still here, a little more hopeful than before, my last post was really depressing.

Any way, I still have bad days, when happiness seems more like a mirage than a destination.
It jumps further away again just out of reach each time I seem to get close to it.

While I'm at it, it feels like I'm in a desert full of sufferings and false hopes.
Like my desert isn't supposed to end after all.

It feels as if my universe isn't ever going to return all the good.
Maybe for some, everything never really gets back to them after all.

Sometimes it feels like I'll never be able to escape this dreary vacuum of distress.
Sometimes it feels like I'll never get there, like I'll never be okay.

I look behind me.
I feel the pain that I endured.
I notice all the vanquished inner demons.
I see everything that I've been through.
I realise how far I've come.

And I know, without question, that I'm never going back.
And if I'm not going back, then I'm only moving ahead.

I recall and live it all again and remind myself that I have to turn around and onward.
I've come too far to give up because of one bad decision and a few bad days.

Because now I know.

Bad days end.

New days begin.

And tomorrow will be better.