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Saturday

He...


I was watching the angels sing,
the songs of love with her fluttering wing.
While I was pondering on some unsaid thoughts,
he came unannounced, unexpected
like he owned the place.

He walked over in peace,
helping the little heart to seize.
He is intangible and charismatic,
clever and quick as a flash.

Those are moments of silent joys
in the still time
letting the heartbeats slow down, unwind
to enjoy the serenity of life
But I await seeing him yet again
to ask my heart back.

Rising the Silence


Feminism is not a dirty word. Feminism means having a vagina and a vagina is not an invitation. Our body is not an invitation. That doesn’t mean we cannot still take pride of long legs, shapely calves.  It’s totally our call to wear flattering necklines, accentuate our waist, or butt.

I refuse to pack chilli powder in my hand bag each time I step out of the house. I will not buy the advice of mastering martial arts or acquire cans of pepper spray - ‘just in case’.  Why am I to do it? Is the equality only in the words not in the society? Do I need to fear the opposite sex when I am equally competing in every field? Do my male friends really need extra humanity lessons to be humans?

 The streets, stations, subways, buses, autos, trains, over bridges, cabs belong to women as much as they do to men. We reclaim what is rightfully ours, without being browbeaten into scampering away in fright. Why retreat at this stage? If anything, the moment to go ahead and change the rules of this dastardly game is now. If we weaken our resolve and move even an inch from the position taken, we’ll have surrendered a basic right. The right to freedom. The right to safety.

It was quite shocking when my German friend who happened to be in India and asked me about how safe is it for people to settle in Delhi with regards to the Delhi rape case.

Is the answer to that is a female foetus is not safe even in a mother’s womb? And are we discussing the safety of women as those who are ‘allowed to live’?  But this is not the time to feel martyred. There is no room for self-pity. This is the time to demand real change.

The solution lies in our hands. And those hands need not reach for chilli powder. If we adopt defensive strategies to ‘protect’ ourselves, we are admitting weakness and anticipating defeat. How many women in scary circumstances will have the physical strength and the presence of mind to reach for those chilies? The onus of staying safe was never on us. Let’s not foolishly take it on ourselves at this critical stage and let the real culprits off the hook. And those culprits aren’t the rapists. Criminals take their cues from society at large. A society that disregards and looks the other way when politicians rape, loot, kidnap and murder with liberty, is a society that is inviting trouble. Men like the Delhi rapists who must have believed they’d get away with the crime – just like all those govt. body whizzing around the capital, followed by a convoy of security cars to ‘protect’ them. It is this blatant abuse of power that we need to put up a fight against. Until those changes, women will remain soft targets.  Through all this, an extraordinarily courageous woman continues to fight for her life and let the world know she wants to live. It’s a poignant war cry from what could soon become her death bed. Yes. The situation is grim. And this is a national emergency which must be recognized as one. No woman in India should ever be told to arm herself with chilli powder. No woman should even feel the need to do so. This is what the fight is about. Women must be able to take safety for granted. Just like men do.  For, when Delhi gets raped, India gets raped.

Are we grown up to be flame of the house or being flamed for the male desperation?

“Listen to the mustn'ts, child. Listen to the don'ts. Listen to the shouldn'ts, the impossibles, the won'ts. Listen to the never haves, then listen close to me... Anything can happen, child. Anything can be.”
-Shel Silverstein


Credits: Shobaa De