Speak up

This post is dedicated to the silent sufferers of domestic violence, sexual exploitation, eve-teasing, gender discrimination and\or child abuse.

Recently, I went to the market where I was browsing for a t-shirt at a roadside stall. The vendor was a 20-ish boy and I am way older than he is. As is our custom, I kept addressing him respectfully with my share of ‘please’ and ‘thank you’. He was however constantly referring to me in a patronizing tone. I hated the way he continuously showed me the wrong colors and patterns and completely ignored what I was asking for. What nailed it however was when I had finally paid for the stuff and was walking away. I ignored taking the polythene and was heading towards our car when suddenly he shouted in his atrocious manner ‘Panni to le lo ki sare market me dikhati huyee le jaogi’. That is it, I thought. It was just a t-shirt…a perfectly legitimate item. Not an undergarment or sanitary napkin; which I need to carry in a black poly packs much to my chagrin. I mean what is there to hide in garments we wear on daily basis or something which I need to use every month.

Not to mention, the havoc poly-pack pollution is causing for the environment. Honestly! If each one of us commits using one less poly pack per day that will help us more than all the awareness campaigns for global warming. 

Also I hated the way he completely ignored politeness, manners and etiquettes when he referred to me like that. I simply couldn’t take it any more.

I walked up to him, raised myself to my full height and said, “Bhai Sahab, pahle to aap tamiz se baat kijiye. Itni der se mai ‘Aap Aap’ kar ke bol rahi hu aur aap mujhe tu keh rahe hai. Dusri baat ye hai ki polythene ka istemal kam karna chahiye. Jab maine khud nahi manga to apko kya padi hai.”

That nailed it!! His expression changed from surprise to shock to embarrassment in less than 10 seconds. Sheepishly, he apologized to me and politely handed me the poly pack. It was hard to suppress the huge sigh of relief at finally taking a stand. Even harder was the attempt to hide that grin which came on my face. He was completely in awe when I walked back with my head held high.

Guys, it was a very small incident. But it mattered to me because I matter to me. How I am being treated matters to me. I have a right to be treated with equality if not respect. That is why I chose to speak up.

‘Being polite does not mean you have to be a coward and shouting does not make you right’ rightly nailed by Sonal Kalra in her write-up. Thank you Sonal!

  

As your love remains unchanged

I have been crushed, I have been trampled

I have been tortured to each limit, every measure.

But your sweet memory

Still remains…..

The heart cries but says ‘No gain without pain.’

…As your love remains unchanged.

I loved not looks, I loved not voice

In my achievements I hardly rejoiced

But all the joy

Lies in loneliness and rains

…As your love remains unchanged.

I don’t have the power

To change my feelings

I am not a coward

Though hurt, I am not screaming.

I am the trust that will always remain.

…As your love remains unchanged.

I have been through

A sheer hard luck.

I have come to

My very last buck.

But every time I suffer

My relief is your name.

…As your love remains unchanged.

I am being selfish

Though hard I try

To suffer but surrender

To your dreams and choice.

But still what I gain

Is your love remains unchanged.

And now I know

It is useless to try.

I can’t forget you

All through my life.

But I will refrain

From calling out your name.

But as you know

Your love remains unchanged.

Through pleasure and pain

Through sunlight and rain.

Your love remains unchanged.

It will remain unchanged.

-Bhavana

Let’s love ourselves

Here is what I plan to do this Valentine….

Imagine piling up every single notebook you have used since childhood or collecting butts of all the pencils you bought since you were 5 years old. They don’t add value to our life, they add clutter.

Then why should we collect memories of everything that went wrong? Why should we recall every single shortcoming, every single failure and every single disappointment when something untoward happens?

Why do we clutter our mind with negative thoughts? It has been rightly said in ‘The monk who sold his Ferrari ‘The mind is a garden and negative thoughts are like weeds. We have to remove all the weeds so that our beautiful thoughts can survive.’

Let us start loving ourselves. Let us for once accept ourselves totally and unconditionally. Let us trust our decisions, let us respect our choices.

We talk so much about how to behave with other people, how to be supportive, thoughtful and considerate. Now it is high time we do it for ourselves.

Come on! Let us face the world head on. Look into its eyes and dare it to prove us wrong. Let us dare the world to ridicule us, look down upon us, mock us and do whatever possible to discourage us.

Let us laugh at the face of all adversities, failures and shortcomings.

Let us show them what we are made of.

Come on everyone….Let us start loving ourselves before we love someone else.

Let me sit with my thoughts

Hi Readers

Problems are a part of our life. How so ever cautious we may be, we are human only. So when something goes wrong, you don’t have to kill yourself over it. Read on to find if this is the right thing to do:

Let me sit with my thoughts

Be it a pressing problem, a missed deadline or a break up – all generates a hoard of mixed feelings.

Some are sad and forlorn; they make you want to scream.

Some of them are abandonment personified, they make you seek company.

And some…some are positive as well; they make you think why it happened and what can be done.

So next time folks, when something goes wrong…

Don’t sit with friends and family to seek a post mortem.

Seek answers, seek solutions, seek changes.

Let us make mistakes but

Let’s not make the same mistakes twice.

PS: It does not mean you don’t have to share your problems with your family or close ones. It means giving more credit to introspection. Remember nobody knows yourself more than you.

Is it worth it? - An insight into arranged love marriages

Courtesy 2 states by Chetan Bhagat arranged love marriage is the way to go for today’s youngsters. It is easy for some and not-so easy for most of us.

The problem starts when a guy or girl approaches marriageable age. Prospects start coming to the girl’s house. The questions they ask range from ‘What is your height’ to ‘What are your future plans’. As if they will let her follow her dreams. It is a bitter truth that we girls have to constantly compromise career growth for family satisfaction. Most of the girls I know were ‘not allowed’ to pursue their desired field! ‘Allowed’ is the operative here.  I personally know doctors, engineers and management professionals who married well and quit their jobs.

Then if the girl passes the acid test, the family starts negotiating the deliverables. What kind of marriage, how many guests, which marriage hall to what kind of and how much of ornaments is discussed in detail and followed promptly by the girl’s side.

This does not end here. There are festivals and social occasions where you have to reward the in-laws suitably. Otherwise you never know when they will send your daughter back to your doorsteps.

Now let’s have an insight into arranged love marriage:

The guy and his family directly ask for the girl’s hand. There is no need to show her around and then wait for the reply. Further, there is no threat of a rejection. This is the worst part of an arranged marriage. You cannot imagine the pain of rejection when people say no for reasons as simple as her complexion or height.

Both the families are on equal footing. The girl does not necessarily come loaded with gifts and ornaments. She is accepted for herself and not for her family’s status or position.

Life long she gets to live with a person who knows and understands her. Someone, who knows her as a person not as XYZ’s daughter, she remains free to follow her dreams.

The best reason to accept such proposal is ‘This makes her happy’. Not for now but for ever.

Disclaimer: Not every person has the same experience. It is quite possible that the girl may have a supporting family in arranged marriage and a nasty experience in a love marriage. I apologize if I have hurt anyone’s sentiments over here. 

Illicit relationships: The reality Unleashed

Hi readers

This week I came across a shocking reality. A woman I know and respect shared the story of her husband’s illicit relationship with his own bhabhi. She bared all and I could not help crying on both the situation and the helplessness of it. It is so easy for us to say ‘Fight for your rights. Don’t keep quite if you see something going wrong. Do not stay put and bear the injustice.’ Its easier said than done…this truth was revealed to me when I…a staunch supporter of women’s rights could not confront the man and woman involved. Even though I see them everyday, I cannot find the courage to protest. No one does!!

Even though everyone has known of it since 12 years now, no one dared to tell them what they are doing is wrong.

The lady in question tried to fight for herself. What she got was black and blue marks all over her body and shockingly, an abortion. 12 years have passed since then. Owing to some complications during the abortion she did not have another child. Her treatment is stalled and she is unable to cope with both the loss of the child and the inability to help the situation.

Here I am…ultra feminist, fighter for women’s rights. What have I done? Nothing, zero, zilch. I can’t give the old excuse that I provide her moral support. Can my moral support give her the unborn child back? Can it erase the stigma that she faces? Can I stop people from calling her a barren woman? Oh no, I can’t. I can’t even stop that person from doing all this.

I watch that man every single day. Talking to her, mocking her, scolding her and sometimes beating her too. I am silent and so is the world!!

A whole lot of good the women’s day is doing for her. Who knows how many women are trapped in such situation? For how long?

God give me the strength to speak up.

  

To Damini

You are no longer here and I don’t know whether you knew of the outrage in India. Outrage which broke out after you were brutally raped and tortured to the extent which is not humanly possible.

I assure you today, we will follow it up. We will make sure those Satans are punished. The youth will continue with the protests, the candle light marches and the black dot on facebook. We will do whatever we can to get you justice.

Let the prominent people in this country ridicule us with their remarks. We will follow it till the end.

              

Rest in Peace love…away from this inhumanity.

Have you ever....??

Have you ever been raped

For putting on the wrong dress?

Have you ever been hiding

In a corner for a fag?

Have you ever been dragged

By your hair

For having a drink?

Have you ever been looked at

Like a dish appetizing?

Have you ever been denied

The right to earn a living?

Have you ever been thrown

Out of your home screaming?

Have you ever had to face

An untrue allegation?

Did you ever have to bear

Your face’s deformation?

Have you ever been threatened

For going to school?

Have you ever been slapped

For writing a book?

Have you ever been numbered

While walking on the street?

Have you ever been afraid

Of people who are passing?

Have you ever come across

The biases we face?

Have you ever been punished

For mistakes you didn’t make?

Have you ever been criticized

For looking too good or too bad?

Have you ever been judged

For being well groomed and well fed?

Did you ever have to face
the one who called off your marriage?

The one who walked away

Just because he wanted to be rich…

Come and see my world

And try to live my life

If you can live just one day

Then you would be absolutely right

In teaching me lessons

In dictating what I should do

In trying to plan my life

And making all my decisions.

    - Bhavana

I live in a world

I live in a world

Where I don’t have a name

I am being known by someone else

My recognition is

Someone else’s fame.

I live in a world

Where I keep listening to others

I don’t have a say in

My present or my future

I live in a world

Where others decide

Who I will share my life with

Who is going to be by my side?

I live in a world

Where I have no future

Each day is just the same

Exactly as the other

I live in a world

Where I take care

To speak only when spoken to.

And not question, only answer.

I live in a world

But without a living

I am not living my life

I am only breathing

I live in a world

Where my heart screams.

It bleeds for love

And longs for dreams.

I live in a world

Where there is a void

Of feelings, of love

Of joy and pride.

I live in the world

But I question my existence

Every single day when

I put on this pretense.

          - Bhavana 

I feel guilty….. And I am sick of it!!

Hi readers

There is one happy news I have got to share with you all… and sad too. The happy news is my boyfriend  of 2 years decided to decided to propose marriage.

He went through the family route. Convincing first his and then my dad.

You might be thinking I am over the moon now… not really. My folks keep me pinned to the ground.  They aren’t really thrilled with this whole arrangement, to be honest. They are angry, hurt and upset. It makes me feel guilty every time I look into their eyes and read betrayal in capital letters.

It hurts in the weirdest of ways. I mean it isn’t like I was planning to run away or something. I only wanted to marry him. He is a steady guy and we have a great relationship. It is based on equality, trust and a lot of patience on his part. He waited for me through 2 breakups before I settled for him. He all but stood upside down to have me say yes to him.  I made him promise he will convince my folks that he is the guy for me.

Here he is…inviting my dad to his family home. And here they are….whining and complaining and shouting as soon as they came back.

The problem….he does not belong to my caste. Thankfully at least we belong to the same religion.

Suddenly I feel as if two horns have grown over my head these days. As soon as I am in the same room with my parents, they broach subjects like how a certain person’s love marriage failed miserably. Or how an XYZ uncle’s son is employed in ABC Company and earns an impressive amount of salary.

I know what they are trying to say. I know what they feel about our do-it-yourself kind of marriage. I know they are itching to break this relationship.

That’s what makes me feel guilty. I don’t know what the right thing is anymore.

Is it right if I walk away from him for my family? Is it right if I simply choose to ignore the beautiful relationship we share? Is it ok if I call off the marriage?

My previous relationships taught me one thing very clearly. How so ever important a person might be, it is always possible to live without him.

But is this a valid reason? Will I be able to tolerate one more broken relationship? Will I be able to hurt him like this and yet be happy? What if I regret later? Will there be a way of turning back?

God, its so unfair at times. I see my brother talking to his friends as late as 12:30 in the night. Yet my parents choose to conveniently ignore that. Here I am…..no matter how short his call is, I always get a dressing down for it.

Why is it so hard for them to accept him?  

I wish for once they were happy for me. I wish they could welcome him as openly as his family accepted me. I wish our talking on the phone stopped irritating them. I wish they could see how sincere, honest and hard working he really is.

I wish for once I could cease feeling guilty and completely enjoy the feeling that we are making it official soon.

I wish my parents forgive me for choosing someone, for retaining the right to choose. I wish I could stop feeling guilty…for I am tired of it.

PS : It was years ago...I broke up with him...

I am sorry, my dear country

Namaste India

I am a woman and I am your citizen. I am sorry for I will not celebrate the republic day just like I did not celebrate the ‘New Year’. I refrained from the festivities because of a simple reason. I don’t know if I am safe living here.

‘The brutal rape of a 23 year old medical student’ this was the headline in your newspapers and channels countrywide 16 December onwards. The whole country was shocked at the brutality and the nonsensical reason behind it. There was so much rage, anger, disbelief, denial and protests at that time. People were enraged, maddened with the thought that this could have happened to their sisters, daughters, mothers, wives…So they launched country wide protests. By the way, your attempts to suppress it were commendable. The silence from all major politicians, sending the victim for treatment after the battle was completely lost, calling the young people who were leading this protest ‘the discotheque generation’…Wow! Every thing has subsided now. The protesting voices are quite, the newspapers have moved on…people have resumed their routine.

However, I can’t. I can’t! I can’t! I can’t!

Being the country of Lakshmi, Saraswati and Durga how could you let this happen? Not only her but children as young as 3 and women as old as 75!!

Why are you dishonoring us? Are dowry deaths, female foeticides, domestic violence, eve teasing, child marriages and honor killings not enough that your men can do this too?

Why we are still looked down upon? Where is the freedom, the liberty, the gender equality that the constitution talks about? When you ask me to shut myself at home before 9 pm, are you not taking away my constitutional right to freedom?

Than why should I have faith? Why should I celebrate the making of this constitution which is so openly violated?

Sorry, extremely sorry.

I am a patriot at heart and I really respect you. But I will not be able to celebrate because I am still not free. I don’t want to celebrate liberation when I am not liberated.

Love you my dear country, hope you give me a chance to believe you once again.

Your unfortunate daughter

I am an empowered woman - On Women's Day

The dictionary meaning of empowered is ‘having authority, power, strength and confidence.’ I have them all and much more for I am an empowered woman.

My day does not start with the bed tea or breakfast or gym. Nor does it start with a smiling face telling me to get up or I’ll be late.

It starts with me looking at the watch, getting up with a jerk and heading straight to the kitchen. I don’t look for the morning newspaper; I look for things to cook. I don’t take hours to decide what I am going to wear for the day I spend hours cooking breakfast for everyone. I am an empowered woman.

There are a hundred things that bug me throughout the day. No it is not a list of comments on social networking websites nor is it whether I am going to get a promotion or not. It is whether I had been too harsh with my teenage daughter or is my son getting into the wrong company. Simple things like my children staying in their room for hours on end make me wonder whether they are doing drugs. I am scared for them. I am an empowered woman.

I protect my family, I provide for them. I support whenever required without thanks or sorry. I fade into the background when everything becomes all right. It does not matter whether I earn a six figure salary or not. What matters is whether I am ready to spend that money on every one except myself. I pay the bills and loans without any question. I give expensive gifts on birthdays and anniversaries. I stay in touch with both the extended families. I don’t complain when someone forgets my birthday or the husband forgets our anniversary. I am an empowered woman.

I don’t smoke or drink. Yet on my husband’s demand or social pressure, I do it as if I am habitual. I want to be a one man woman. Yet when my husband wants me to swap partners, I do it without a hitch. As if getting intimate with someone other than my husband is every day business. I am an empowered woman.

I pack my husband’s bag for every trip he takes. For business or pleasure, I never ask. Yet when I get the same opportunity, I call him to ask if it is ok with him. I don’t get to decide whether I can go or not. I am an empowered woman.

Time and again, I have to prove I am loyal to my husband, caring towards my family and earning my own money has not made me rude and arrogant.  I have to make small or big sacrifices to prove I am not one of those ultra modern, career oriented, so called selfish women. My husband can’t afford to lose me yet he behaves as if he’ll get women like me a penny a dozen. I bear all this silently. For I am an empowered woman.

Being a foster parent - My experience of raising 5 super cute and cuddly pomerian pups

Recently, at home my she-dog gave birth to 5 sweet, cute and absolutely adorable pups. When I saw them for the first time, I wondered how I was going to handle them. Then I heard the first cry of one of them and that led me on. Now, when they are all healthy and rapidly growing, I got a chance to sum up my experience. With inputs in the form of cuddling, growling, licks and hugs from all of them.  Alcho cchum very cute attempts of sitting on my lappy and pressing random keyes like bdegfdbcdshsejfn …….you get the drift!! Here we go…..

1. Firstly, it means total and absolute attention to every lick, growl and cry or look the moment it occurs. At times, I even had to abandon my bath and come check them just to make sure they are ok.
2. It means telling them in baby talk that you are going to take a leak and will be back in 5 minutes. Also making them understand the difference between a leak and a shit so that they don’t get scared if you take longer.
3. It means refraining to cook and resist the urge to make some coffee only because the kids are either sleeping in your lap and they hate to get out. It may also mean the lost look they give you will not allow you to get up even if you need it so bad.
4. It means realizing what a blessing home delivery can be. It also means blaming your rapid increase in weight on unhealthy snacking when all the time you eat only what you get your hands at.  
5. It means tucking them safely and snuggly in their blanket only to find 5 minutes later that all of them are sleeping on it.
6. It means having very little sleep at night and getting up every hour to check on them or coax and cajole the mother to feed them.
7. It means wondering whether using swear words in front of them will be a bad influence. It also means refraining from shouting when they pee on your laptop or shit on your sweater like one did just now.
8. It means getting lost in their pretty eyes and teaching them to lick you every time you hold them. Also means beaming with pride and joy if any of them does it on their own.
9. It means taking them to the doctor when one of them half opened its eyes and you were scared there is something wrong with it.
10. It means taking a casual leave from office when one of them catches cold.

In short being a foster parent means being a parent and more….much more.

Being a foster parent – The Doggie Language

All the peace in the world cannot counter the feeling of your dog sleeping lovingly on your lap, lost in his doggie dream world. All the love and care in the world cannot match the way he licks your teary eyed face.  All the polished and sophisticated words in the world do not matter to us when we speak a language entirely our own.

When we spend so much time with such a loving creature, you both get attuned to each other’s body language. Best of all, you develop a vocabulary entirely your own.

Sample this:

Scene 1: My pooch is giving extra attention to you and barking continuously, not letting me put a leash on him. Then suddenly you hear me say “You have become a meanie” and he settles down.

Scene 2: I am trying on a new dress and he decides to appreciate it. He jumps on my lap with his favourite toy in tow, licks all over my face and plants himself firmly in there. Completely ignores the fact that my dress is now covered in dog hair. All I can say to him is silly words of endearment. Words, which sound gibberish but to us they perfectly make sense.

Scene 3: I am walking my dog and he decides to dash after a stray dog. He pulls on the leash tightly and starts panting in the process. I call him “ Chiku gussa kutti mat bano, pyari kutti bano”  

If any of these happened in your presence, please don’t think I am out of my mind and please do not say anything in front of my ‘ lovie dovie’. My fur ball can understand each word you say.

Being a foster parent 2: A dog lover’s tale

Dear readers

Apologies for my long silence! I have been so busy these last few months. This time its changes galore. I have just shifted house and my job is becoming more & more demanding.

Recently, I happened to acquire a sweet little pomerian pup. I named him Chiku…rather he named himself Chiku by not responding to any of the other names I used to test on him.

Let me tell you one thing guys, I have had a number of experiences ever since I adopted him. The first one was when I had to take him to Singrauli by train. It was great to have him as a travelling companion. He simply refused to sit in the basket and snuggled nicely by my side. Fortunately, the other people in my coach were pretty supportive. At least they did not react…..

We have been together since then and very happy. My typical day starts with him jumping on my bed in order to wake me up. It’s because of him that I get to see the lovely sunrise, the morning dew and the fresh cool morning breeze. And then, all hell breaks loose…. As soon as I open my almirah and try to take out some clothes for the day, he will snatch whatever he can and dash… He really hates it when I have to go to the office. Many times, he tries to take my keys too.

It’s a sight when I come back home for lunch. He jumps into my lap and always wants to be picked up as soon as I enter the house. The next thing would be to call my mom. Believe me; he has plenty of things to say to her!

It is pretty endearing no matter how many times he sees you in a day, he will welcome you with the same warmth.

I’ll close this one with the promise that I will keep you updated on his progress. Yes, of course I am one of those lovey dovey persons who click plenty of pics of their pets, upload them on the net and never forget to like others’ cutie pies!!

See you soon.

Animal Cruelty: Level 8

Friends,

Today I will bring you face to face with the animal cruelty issues. In my hometown, I have often seen and stopped people from kicking, stoning or harassing poor puppies or cows etc.

But what I saw here in Singrauli MP is at a different level altogether. I am not much of an activist as such but I am surely a humanitarian.

The day just began normally with me attending office like every other day. On my way back, me and my colleague just felt like having Samosas from a particular shop.

I am telling you guys, going to that shop was a huge mistake.

When I was about to leave, suddenly the attendants there saw a mouse and started harassing it. They were probing it with sticks and stuff. I thought they were trying to draw it out of the shop. But when it came out, one of the ass***** stepped on it and just started jumping in order to kill it.

Inspite of my creating much ruckus, he just smashed it right in front of my eyes.

That night I could not sleep. I could not forget the horror of the whole thing. The pleading look in the mouse’s eyes just haunts me.

Guys I am telling you, we don’t need a revolution to understand the value of human life or any life for that matter. Sometimes, we do have to deal with pests but what he did was totally not done.

You know what; more disturbing was his loser like attitude. I just feel like giving him a tight slap and wiping that smirk from his stupid face.

In a country where incidents like the 16^th Dec and Guwahati molestation case happen,

Animal cruelty is not even in picture right now.

God help the poor creatures and keep them out of reach of bastards like that guy out there.

An Open Letter to Indian Parents

Hi All

For some reason, my blog on blog,com is disabled and I am unable to access my account, Hence I am migrating the same blog to this platform. This blog is all about the quirks of Indian parenting. All said and done, it is my own point of view and I do welcome those who beg to differ. 

Thank you for liking it so much.

Will keep adding on to it.

Love
Feelings