The Diary of a Mother-To-Be

My darling,

While my palms gently move along my swollen belly, my thoughts take a tour of the life that awaits you, my daughter. They drift smoothly like the carefree days of childhood.

I long for the moment to hold you in my arms for the first time, to watch your tiny lips curl up into the most gorgeous smile, to see you take those baby steps, faltering and fast, towards me; to watch you fall and then get back up, to tie those pretty pigtails on your first day at school, to teach you the ABCs and Jack ‘n’ Jill, to shed tears of joy as I watch you become a lady.

But then, it kills me to think of the thorns that this world has grown over time. Thorns that sink in deep, deep down your skin, through your bones and scar your soul. How will I protect you from those, my love? How will I shield you from those piercing, lustful stares and touches of the men who are vile right to their core?

And after all that, how will I find the will to hand over my little girl to another man? How? No I won’t do that. I won’t let you go.

But I promise you, love, that I will let your laughter seep into my locks of hair and remind you of them when you fail to find hope, I will protect you from your deepest fears and hide them all in the folds of my saree, I will show you the strength that you have in you to fight this filthy, filthy world. And moreover, I will show you the men, men who continue to remain untouched by the degradation of human mind. Men like your father. I promise you.

Forever scared and rueful,

Your mother.

Look Maa...We've Got No Respect!

Female foeticide is an ugly truth of the present. Our patriarchal society does not allow a mother to feel the happiness, which she very well deserves, on giving birth to a daughter. Daughters are still considered to be a curse to the family. Why, because it is believed that only a son can fulfill the responsibilities of his family, that the birth of a boy child in a family assures a guaranteed place in the heaven. The girls on the other hand are dismissed as “Paraya Dhan”. Who wants to have a daughter when all she’s going to do is get married and be a part of some other family after that? What good is she going to do for her own family? Nothing, right? So why even bother bringing her into this world? Yes, such is the attitude of people in general in our society. Girls are and have always been treated as the inferior beings. And the dislike and disregard towards a girl begins right from the moment when the doctor says “It’s a girl!” What sort of education at home or in school, allows people to think that it is the woman alone who determines the gender of the child?

It’s extremely sad to know that even today, sex-based selective abortions are very rampant in India. And even if a girl is lucky enough to be born, she still has to fight against all the odds that the society offers. Incidents such as dowry deaths, eve-teasing, acid attacks, rapes, molestation at workplaces, molestation of little girls by a pervert uncle, inappropriate touching and groping in a bus, domestic violence, marital rapes, etc are taking place at an increasing and an uncontrollable rate. So what does that mean? Is our nation which once took pride in worshipping Goddesses, becoming an unsafe place for its own daughters? Is India turning out to be a country where women are neither safe inside the womb nor in the world outside? Sadly, that is really the case and it’s extremely shameful.

A recent incident has proved it right. On the night of 16th December, 2012, a 23-year-old paramedical student, accompanied by a male friend, boarded a bus on a busy road in the capital at 9 p.m., only to be brutally raped by a group of men. She was then savagely beaten, stripped and thrown onto the road. The girl and her friend, who was attacked for trying to protect her, were returning home after watching a movie. Boarding that bus cost her more than just a ticket, it cost her her life.

At a protest rally held in the city earlier, when women waved placards saying: "Don't teach me what to wear, teach men not to rape," it was meant as a wake-up call for society, for mothers and fathers, for law-keepers as well as law-makers. Other posters saying: "Real men don't rape," were a chilling reminder of how vulnerable and isolated women feel in India.

India's apparent nonchalance towards sexual harassment has escalated into a major crisis. And we're not just talking about the odd sly remark or attempt to grope a woman but far more serious assaults. India's rape problem needs a re-wiring of society’s attitude.

The problem here is Misogyny. Misogyny has long permeated our textbooks, our pedagogy and our parenting. Millions of Indians continue to believe that women invite trouble on themselves by being careless. Mothers often chide daughters for wearing provocative clothing, in most cases a sleeveless garment or a pair of hip-hugging jeans. And the remarks made by Mr. Kailash Vijayvargiya regarding the violation of the ‘Laxman Rekha’ only proved that just like a compass needle that always points north, a man's accusing finger will always find a woman. Why can’t all the Indian politicos, government and the people consider our Indian territorial border as the Laxman-Rekha and save all the Sitas within the country? May be that’s because doing so will require all Indian men to become ‘Maryada Purushottams’, and we hardly have any!
But… will all our discourse about women be limited only to rape?

Women are as guilty as men for the mindset that breeds the crime. We kill our own infant daughters, we immolate our sons' wives if they bear female children, we disapprove of women who make an effort to be attractive and doubt their character.
To call women the weaker sex is a libel; it is man's injustice to women. This needs to be stopped right here, right now. In a country like ours, nobody polices the police. So we can’t rely on the police to do the needful. We need to take charge. Sharing posts and statuses on social networking sites alone won’t help. Neither will candle marches and silent protests. Will the history of our times be compiled in tweets only? Definitely not!

Nirbhayas’s incredible brave cry, “I want to live!” is the voice of the new India. We can all help to achieve this new India by allowing our children to live with dignity, without fear of dishonor if they tell us that “So and so uncle tried to push me into a corner for a smooch”. The discrimination against and abuse of women is so widespread and runs so deep in our veins that it feels as if it will take a millennium to change. But we can’t afford to wait for that long! We can’t go claiming we worship Goddesses while ordinary women are regarded as just so many kilos of meat. It’s high time that we realize the very basic fact that Women are as human as men. Neither superior, nor inferior, they’re equal. And boys shouldn’t think that chivalry lies in holding open the doors, pulling chairs or getting flowers for your lady. It lies in guarding her honor, appreciating her worth and treating her as an equal. We women are smart enough to read the “Pull” and “Push” signs and open the doors for ourselves! Duh!

The Dance of Love

She carried Her heart, an exigency of life,

Like an iniquitous pain, too stubborn to leave.

And He played with His, radiant and hopeful,

Like the carefree winds in a field.

He was an extension of Her,

As colours are to a drawing and ripples to still water.

But for Him, She was His need,

Like water is to thirst, and a soft touch to teenage lovers.

He became Her sun,

Bright and warm, when coldness shrouded Her heart.

But for him, She was the soothing moon.

She brought to rest His galloping mind.

She was on the brink of an abyss, of that She was sure,

When He caressed Her sorrows and scars.

But there was no turning back now,

For He had exhumed Her soul from the dark wells of misery.

It was time, they both knew,

The wait had been too long.

They threw themselves into the flames of burning desire,

As anticipation impregnated their thoughts.

She shivered, as His lips met Hers,

So aggressive yet enchanting, their first kiss.

For once she knew what she wanted,

And she sighed, she sighed like never before.

One Life To Bear It All

John Wayne once wrote – “Life is hard; it’s harder if you’re stupid.”

True, isn’t it? To every person who refrains from trying one more time, life does seem hard. But in reality, isn’t life like an open-book test? One just has to concentrate all his energy at that one point and find all the answers that are already there right in front of us. It’s funny how we already are aware of all the terrible things that can possibly happen to us in case our stars decide to teach us a lesson. These crests and troughs are common to all and those questions keep repeating.

What is it that everybody runs away from? – Failure.

But isn’t failure supposed to be a part of our learning process, which practically is the whole point of our existence? They say the inability to accept failure is a form of insanity. It's probably true. But sometimes… it's the only way to stay alive. Or, one can embrace it like an old friend and start over.

What is the reason for disappointment? – Expectations.

Whoever said “Do not expect and you’ll never be disappointed” was definitely drunk or was probably sleep-talking. From those extra two marks for the neat labeled diagram that you drew for your science exam, to a heartwarming text message from a close friend that you haven’t heard from in a long time, one is constantly expecting something or the other. And no matter how big or small the expectation, unfulfillment of it always leads to chagrin and disappointment, in that order.

What is it that always leaves us hurt? – Love.

Yes. As bad as it sounds, love really is a bitch! Maybe we get hurt because we give too much importance to too less important people. It is impossible for one to not have had experienced the burns of perfidy or the bittersweet sorrow of parting from a loved one, at least once, in his lifetime. But then hey! Who said that life was going to be a bed of roses?

Finally, what is it that everybody fears? – Loss

Loss is an inevitable truth of life. It sticks to you like a leech, mostly when you’re already running out of blood. People set their own priorities. One might have sleepless nights because of their money that failed to double in the share market, while one might forget to live altogether because of the death of a loved one. It’s not unknown to anybody that everything has a 50% chance of going completely wrong. But should that stop us from hoping for that other 50%?

Long story short, one is almost, always aware of the fact that there is going to be a twist in the story that will shatter all our dreams and expectations. But then again, if the rope didn’t have any knots, what would we hang onto?

So what do we do? Honestly, do nothing. Just expect the expected at an unexpected time. Maybe failure, disappointment, hurt and loss are not actually the hurdles. Maybe they’re the speed-breakers that keep cautioning us to slow down from time-to-time. After all, what is life without a little pain? We’re all masochists, believe me.

So maybe Wayne Bhai is right. Life is harder if you’re stupid. But if you’re smart enough to look past it, life’s just incredibly surprising. It is only as easy and unexpected as a paper cut!

What's The Word?

                                                                

Sorry is not enough.

For all that hurt, pain, loss, disappointment, betrayal and basically all those bitter and inevitable truths of life, of course, apart from death and taxes, we have someone or the other to pass on the blame to. Nobody is an exception. They’re like an ace shooter’s aim, bloody impossible to miss. So every time we are hurt, backstabbed or let down by someone, we start playing the blame games. And why not? After all, screaming “It’s all because of you” at someone’s face is so much more satisfying than considering the fact that may be I was wrong. We all love to believe that it really wasn’t our fault because in our heads, we’re always the “good guys”,  or maybe we’re just too scared to face the consequences of being wrong. So we wipe our dirty hands on someone else’s shirt and pass on the bad feelings of having stained something onto them.

But at times when it really is the other’s fault, especially if it’s your near and dear one’s, somehow surprisingly, instead of seeking solace from the whole “Thank God it’s not me!” thing, we really face difficulty in accepting the fact that somebody that we counted upon with all that faith and trust humanly possible for one to bestow upon someone, was the one to screw things up for us! It’s like finding out that the lifeguards who were supposed to supervise our safety and rescue us in case of an emergency wee the ones who actually pushed us into the ocean. Ridiculous feeling, that one.  And for that little moment, we refuse to believe that  our so called “friends” had left us alone in all the mess. It’s like the striking of a lightning then. At first, we only see the bright splash of light and we are so confused and scared that we refuse to believe that a storm is coming. And then the loud thunder follows, confirming all our fears that we were trying so hard to shield ourselves from. It is in that tiny little moment in between the lightning and the thunder that we hope that it wasn’t our friend, no it couldn’t be. After all, I’d never do that to them. I’d even take bullets in my head if they needed me to. But sadly, the thunder only ascertains our doubt and blows away that tiny breeze of hope into nothingness. We realize that our pain is a result of somebody whom we trusted like hell.

And then comes the apology.

“I’m really (wait for the big word) sorry! I didn’t mean to… I know I should’ve been there for you but…”

Oh of course you should’ve been there dammit! But the asshole that you are, you weren’t!

Ideally, when someone apologizes to us, we are expected to be all saintly and nice and accept their apology. “Forgive and forget, beta”, that’s exactly what our elders have drilled into our heads ever since we were kids. But can a mere five-letter word do all the healing and make you forgive and forget? May be those (fake) apologetic eyes will cast a spell on us and make us feel guilty instead, and maybe, just maybe, we’ll finally manage to forgive them, but will it help us forget everything just like that?

No.

What? Not happy with that answer? Well, we’re not God. We’re only fragile little humans with high levels of hyperactive Dopamine. So what? When we are hurt, we want to hurt them back, when they are wrong, we want to show them what’s right, when they kick our ass, we want to strangle their necks. But we definitely don’t want to forget about it, and moreover, we want to make sure that they sure as hell remember all of it as well. I guess this is all normal (just scratch the strangling part, OK?). It’s very…umm…human. So sometimes it’s definitely OK to shed all that pretention away and say “Screw you!” instead of pulling a fake smile and saying “It’s OK”. Sometimes we really do need to give our “stronger” self a rest and be all weak and vulnerable and breakdown when nobody is watching. May be that is the effect that revenge, in safe limits, can have on us. It’s satisfying, isn’t it? And it is bloody well necessary for us to move on as well.

Because, once the anger is all out, we can then devote the compassion within us to that scum of a friend who ruined it for us. Because, sorry is an overrated and a highly abused word and one shouldn’t easily fall for it, because some smarties really do know how to use it to get away from things. Because, saying “It’s OK” even when it’s not, only makes us feel worse.

Because sometimes, sorry is not enough.

Because sometimes, revenge is the word that we’re looking for.

The Girl with A Broken Smile

She breathes through her existence. Somewhere, she has forgotten to live. Bad things have scarred her otherwise gentle heart. But her heart continues to beat. Although the beautiful rhythm of its beating has disappeared into nothingness. The thrill, the excitement, the cold shiver that ran down her spine every time she even heard his name has faded like a ripple in the ocean. It’s not that she hates him, or that she dislikes him. Neither is she left with apathy for him. She still loves, reminisces, dreams, cares and moreover, hopes. However, she tries hiding all of it under a thick, dark blanket of abatement. Abatement, which was a result of his narcissism. The thick blanket hurts her as it rubs against the skin of her melancholia. But she knows very well that the pain is nothing but a reminder of their beautiful past and his false promises of the future. And as she sinks deep and deep into the pool of loneliness, she still wears a smile, although a broken one, but it’s still there. She tries hard and walks along with the crowd with her head held high. Her flamboyant choices, pretty dresses and trendy bags are her way of proving to the world the lesser-accepted fact that it does not take a guy to ruin a girl’s world for her, it takes much, much more than just that. That she can be dying on the inside with unavoidable pain, yet she can keep it all hidden from others’ eyes, for the pain is her very own and is not meant for anyone else to see. She can still make men go head-over-heels over the most gorgeous curve on her body, her smile, and make him burn in the consuming flames of his own jealousy. She has finally come to peace with all the chaos. She knows that people change, love hurts, friends leave, things go wrong, but life goes on. Earlier, she used to forget time with him. Now she’ll just forget him with time. Because she still believes that she will be loved…again!