Post-Women's Day Post

On the 8th of March, I woke up and searched on the internet for a good quote on women's emancipation. Read quite a few of them. Texted one to the girls I know. Felt good about myself. Watched Monalisa Smile on computer. Felt better about myself. Also about the fact that I am educated, that I can understand difficult things compared to many people out there. Basically, felt smug.

And just 2 days later - today - while I was going out to the local stationery shop, I saw 2 ladies riding two scooties. After the immediate dose of Women's Day, I felt quite happy to see these ladies wearing helmets and driving scooties. Then the lady in the front said to the other one, "Okhane gele eto insecure lage..." (I feel so insecure when I go there..."

And in a moment I realized that Women's Day is not about how many degrees I have earned, or how many novels I have read. It's not also about how many women we have educated in a year. Or how many girls have passed out of schools this year. It's not a ratio between girls and education, or girls and career.

Women's Day is about the future when there wouldn't be any need to specify a day for a special sect or class called "female". If we at all need a Women's Day, let it be to make sure that we stand our ground - in school, in college, in office, on roads, and yes, in our own home. The day we start believing that we are "swayamsiddha" or complete in ourselves, that will be the real day of a woman. But being "swayamsiddha" doesn't mean we don't need men. Sure, we do! That's the way Nature has created the two halves of life.

But feeling insecure and guilty is such a regular part of a woman's life, that it sometimes saddens me to witness the daily dose of maddening attempts to become perfect in the eyes of others. It was this evening that my mother forgot to fill the drinking water and even forgot to tell me to do it. So, basically, in the evening she realized that we might not have enough water to last us the night. So she asked my brother to buy a big bottle of water, in case. This is a very trivial thing. But my mother was feeling guilty that how could she forget her daily work? And I felt bad. Not just for her that she felt guilty at not having been able to live up to the perfect role that she plays every day, but also for other women around me who, I see, feel guilty at not having been able to make everyone happy around them. And I think.

Why can't women make mistakes? We are human beings too. To err is human, after all. Why do we have to feel guilty if we forget to add salt to the food one day, when we have to check 50 answer scripts and submit to the school the next morning? It's not that I want to compare that if men can be lousy, then women can be lousy as well. Being careless or careful is a personal choice. But to feel guilty about such silly things can actually make us insecure. So I told Maa that it's OK to forget once in a while. After all, she does everything to near perfection every day.

I am young. Just 25. I have a whole life ahead of me. I know that there will be times in my life when I will have to be strong and strict to make sure that I don't fall into the trap of guilt. I may have to leave my child at ayaah's care and go for my job. I may not have the time to cook everyday because I will maintain a career for myself. I may not be able to attend every function arranged by my family because I may have meetings at my school. I may become "selfish" or "self-centred" in the eyes of others. But I want to have the hope and the firm belief that I will not compromise my self-respect, and I will not allow myself to feel guilty and insecure for thinking about myself and being conscious about my own needs. I will not feel sorry for making mistakes, because I will know that - like always - I will have learnt something from each of those mistakes and promised never to repeat them.

My Women's Day will be the day my mother will forget to do something and say, "Eta to hotei pare!" My Women's Day will be when I will see my child graduate and know that I haven't given him/her the time a housewife could have and yet would have made my child understand the fact that his/her mother has a life of her own. And so, I have a dream... :-)

Lived Through Dreams

Some dreams, they are not to come true.

Dreams that shape your life.

Dreams fulfilled make you

Reach the end.

Dreams left unreached

Keep you going ahead.

Dreams left in the past.

Dreams lived in the past.

Fragrant with sweat and laughter –

Shining as the lake in hot summer.

Alive with pounding heartbeats,

With hurried footsteps

Eager to reach their dreams.

A thousand brittle dreams

Dreamt in acute life.

Stretched green richness and fast wheels,

Sleepy afternoons and leisurely cushions –

Dreams made in broken conversations.

Lengthened concrete with no dust;

Dust that creates dreams.

Rolling years of regularity

Welcome with stifled smile.

I look back for dreams,

Weaved but left to remain, just dreams.

Freeing The Self

Freeing The Self

We all have our demons. And sometimes, when we mistakenly think them to be our friends, we accept all that they try to do with us.

My demon is ambition. Students of English literature usually think of Macbeth when they come across ambition or the excess of it. But for me the tragedy is yet not that huge.

I want a lot. I desire a lot. And in the process I demand a lot from myself. A lot of expectations I have from my own performances – whether in personal life, or in profession. And I am quite sure that I need to start accepting the fact that once in a while, a little less than the best is excusable. But that should not be continued, because then it becomes a habit and one starts decreasing the upper limit to the level of mediocrity.

All these profound thoughts are coming because I had a practical exam today and something got to me and I could not perform the way I wanted to. Those who have done or are doing B.Ed will know my condition. Most of the acts of the course are calculated dramatic performances and when one has to enact a whole lesson’s “best” part after waiting for more than 2hours within 5-8minutes in front of professors, there are chances that expectations will not be met.

But the trouble is not that I could not achieve the best today. The trouble is that I have to learn to forgive myself for failing once in a while. I have to forgive myself for being human and not the superhuman that I want to be. May be just for this once, and continue the journey towards superhuman-ness from tomorrow.

But today, this very moment, I have to forgive myself for being human.

Objectively Subjective

It's foolish to expect that one can get away with a breakup without feeling a scratch. I'm not aware of the Western culture where breakups seem to be more rampant than here in India. But is it really so? May be the plight of finding the perfect mate is equally strong in every country. And then, there are always those who prefer their single status rather than complicate the easy life. Or is just the 'sour grapes' psychology?

Anyway, if I've learnt anything from the relationships and breakups that I've witnessed around me, then it's that however smoothly you might want to end it, it wouldn't have broken if it was already going good.

Breakups are almost never peaceful. Any one of the two will try to hold on. And if both are happy to get rid of it, then sometimes whoever takes the initiative feels more powerful. The feeling of being somewhat unwanted doesn't really go away even if the breakup is mutual.

When Strength Becomes A Vice

Let this be a story about a girl, who was strong. And may be that strength became her fault. How? For that, I'll have to tell you her story.

                      Mocking-Jay (The Hunger Games) - Symbol of Strength for my generation's girls! :-)

She loved. Just when she entered college, she fell in love - just like many other girls of every generation - with the guy who showered her with attention all the time. She knew that perhaps he is not her type, for he was the type who would not settle with one girl at one time. And yet, as this was her maiden venture to Love-Land, she trusted her heart. As usual, the guy broke her heart. Nothing uncommon, right? Her reaction was also very common. She cried, and pined for him, and felt sad and sorry for herself. But she recovered. And here was her fault.

Then, after a couple of years, she fell in love. This time, the guy was a really nice one. The ones we girls usually like to trust. He was sober, understanding, caring and matured. She hoped that this will work out. You see, she is the type who hopes eternally for the Prince Charming, just like most of us regular girls. But I remind you that hoping was not her fault. We'll come to that later. And this guy, the good one, left her because they belonged to different communities and he was not prepared to take a chance against his family's wishes. Fair enough. I don't blame the guy, because not everybody can, or should, recreate Ek Duje Ke Liye type romance. After all, the 90's are over, and we have moved on from flashy over-the-top romance to the regular Cocktail type practical romance. The Deepikas still give panic attacks to the careful Saifs and get hitched to the tamed Dianas.

Anyway, now comes the final twist to my story's heroine's love-story. There is this third guy who had been liking her for a long time, even after being aware that she comes from a background which is much different to what he has grown into. The girl was not ready to get into a relationship anymore, because she felt she had had it enough. They had been friend for a pretty long time, and she didn't want to ruin the friendship just to take a chance at romance. I don't say that it was just the guy's fault just because the girl is my friend. As even a mere blog-writer, I have this minimum objectivity to make sure that I give equal justification to every character. But what happened next was that just when the girl was ready to accept this guy's proposal and give it a try, the guy confessed that due to family troubles he wouldn't be able to commit to her. But he wanted her to be his girlfriend for as long as they stayed in the same city.

The girl refused. Any sensible person would. If there is no future to a relationship, why should you go on hurting yourself just to be a part of an experiment?

Now comes the real trouble. The girl has recovered. She has cried a river, dried her eyes, and recovered. And this is not done. Why? Stop judging me to be a feminist, and think once. If you learn that a guy friend of yours has been crying over his girlfriend for the last 3months, you'll say, "Ladkiyon ki tarah kya ro raha hai? Mard ban, mard!!" (courtesy: Dil Chahta Hai). And if you learn that a girl has recovered from a breakup in less than 3months, you will say, "Was she even serious about the guy??"

The girl MUST cry and howl and soak dozens of handkerchiefs to show that she is a weak person who needs a shoulder for support. She can't be the one to support another one because by doing that she'l lose her femininity. She must be the one who goes from one person to another to express her sob story. And if she doesn't conform to these norms, rumours circulate about her that she must have been flirting around, that she couldn't have been serious or else how could she recover so soon? And the guy must flirt around with a couple of girls after a breakup to show that he is macho enough to get over the girl soon enough.

Everybody expects the other person to hang on to the memories so that they themselves can prove to be the stronger one and recover fast. That's a very practical phenomenon. but the trouble begins when the fast-recovering one is not the guy, but the girl. Then it becomes abnormal and unnatural, because we all expect her to stay low and watch crappy sentimental movies and eat loads of chocolate - not because she loves to watch those Suraj Barjatiya movies or stuff herself with Silk and Bournville - but because she is a girl and she must do these to prove that she was in love with the guy!!

This is the general view-point, to which I refuse to conform, and so does my friend. I know guys who are really nice, and support this non-conformity. I am not fighting an anti-men case. Stereotypical views harm men more than they harm women. Even if a guy wants to cry, he will more often than not control his tears. And that hurts. Here is my question - Can't we just be honest to ourselves and accept that the world is not like us and that we are not the ultimate ones? Can't we just open our minds - in stead of merely opening our eyes and ears and mouths - and accept? If we have hurt a person, can't we just accept the punishment, and not be nagging about returning to where we were?

I rest my case.