Thursday, July 3, 2014

It will never really end, will it?

I think it's pretty well established that being a female in India is not very easy.
Crimes against women, it's kind of a never ending story. 
Everyday, the newspapers say the same thing.
Everyday, we listen.
Everyday, we watch.
Everyday, we observe.
Everyday, we live with it.
Everyday, we forget about it,

Lighting candles and protesting is great, but who did they help? Because crimes haven't stopped. They haven't stopped. They probably will never. 
This statement is not coming from a place of cynicism, but rather a crude sense of reality. 
It is ingrained in our very values and traditions. 
We're hypocrites.
We blame the men? The system? The law enforcing entity?

You'd think us females would stick together, right? When this is how grave the situation has become, one would think there must be some sense of unity among the female-kind. That's the sad part, right there. 
Don't get me wrong, I am not saying it is completely the fault of females, but
don't you see mothers wishing for a son? Having kids till a son is born? Giving him more freedom than the daughter? Don't tell me it is something unknown to you. Tell me you haven't heard a GIRL say that some other girl looks like a slut. Don't tell me you haven't heard someone say that a certain girl is 'easy' because 'woh toh smoke aur drink bhi karti hai'. 
Our very roots are based on a patriarchal set up, and we only fight it when it becomes an inconvenience.
Why does the bride's family have to give dowry? Doesn't the groom have a mother? Marriages are for companionship, not money. But does she fight against it? Don't tell me you don't know what I'm talking about, because THIS is the system. There are exceptions, but this is the rule. This is the system WE have created. 
We CAN stop it, but we won't. You know why? because we are used to it. Used to seeing it and hearing about it. 

Should I even begin to talk about the male mentality? I wonder if I should go there. But I think we all know enough. More than we'd like to. More than enough to keep us afraid  being out of the house.

It may sound silly, but why do girls half their age surround male celebrities whenever they make an entrance? Why do shows like Splitsvilla exist, where women are objectified to a great extent and yet people watch it? Something I found highly disturbing was the recent advertisement for Axe Boat Party.
Here is something about advertisements. They are made keeping in mind the audience, and what will catch their attention. And apparently, bikini clad girls 'seeking Indian men' to go crazy on a boat party is anticipated to catch the attention of the Indian masses. Is it just me? Am I the only one who finds it absolutely horrific and almost tragic?
We've become so obsessed with 'showing' we support and pretending we care, we've forgotten how to actually care. . 

I'm a female. I'm an Indian. I'm proud to be both. But I probably would've been happier being one outside India. 


Friday, June 6, 2014

Who was She?

She was, in a word, mesmerising, and her smile lit up the place. It was contagious, and she made other people smile. She was strong and brave, she was fearless. She was confident, and fought for what she believed in. She was determined, and faced each problem with her head held high. When she spoke, people listened. She inspired them, she helped them. She was amazing. Her big eyes were filled with dreams and hopes, which she was determined to fulfill. She was a good listener, and people turned to her in their time of need. She was beautiful in every way one could be. She was considerate and people looked upto her. They respected her and her opinion. She was not afraid to be who she was, she wasn't ashamed of herself. She was confident and sure of herself. It wasn't like she was perfect, but the people around her accepted her mistakes and the only thing she took from them was the experience- not sorrow and pain. She wasn't perfect but she was so much more. She made a difference by existing.

I saw her, time and again, in my dreams. What was she? Who was she? Was she only a figment of my imagination? The next time I saw her, I stared into her beautiful black eyes. Time stood still, she looked back at me just as intently as I stared at her, and the truth of this entity dawned upon me. I knew her. I had always known her. She wasn't just a figment of my imagination- she was me!
She was me, the me I've always wished I could be.