Tuesday, January 27, 2009

I am am Indian Woman....

I am an Indian.
I am a woman.
I am an Indian woman who is not shocked at the recent beatings a few women took in Mangalore yesterday just because they were in a Pub , at the hands of a few men who called themselves members of the "Shri Ram Sena"...
I am an Indian woman who has been pampered, protected and fussed over all my life.
I am an Indian woman who reads the morning newspaper and is not appalled by the frequency of rape acquittals in my country.
I am the Indian woman who carries a Pepper Spray in her handbag whenever she has to go a distance.
I am an Indian woman who has female friends who have been abused at a tender age.
I am an Indian woman who reads about honour killings in the newspaper and feels disgusted, helpless and bewildered...but forgets about them in a weeks' time anyhow.
I am an Indian woman who is afraid of taking part in mass rallies and protests in my State because the Punjab Police has been known to molest female participants there and with no accountability.
I am the Indian woman who is apprehensive while standing in long queues and in concerts because she has had her behind pinched by a stranger at some point of time, only to look at a sea of seemingly innocent faces when she turned around...
I am the Indian woman who does not give much credibility to Indian men.
I am an Indian woman who is afraid of wedlock because I don't believe education has made our men restrain from domestic violence.
I am the Indian woman who wants just one day when she can say "I am an Indian woman" and be proud of it, without having to push all these things from her mind.
I am proud to be an Indian.
I am proud to be a woman.
I am not proud to be an Indian woman.

Time Paradox

Having completed the first quarter of my life with amazing ease (..NOT!!!) , here I am wondering if the rest of my life is going to be anything like the first 27 years of my life.
It might sound like a "time paradox ( in the words of Deputy Jughead Jones)" but the reason why my now is difficult is because my past was easy and the reason why my past was easy is because my present at that time was difficult, making it seem easy now because the past is no more here.
If its hard to understand, read it once again...go on...its really not that difficult...but I did say its a paradox, didn't I? So how could it be easy??
Jughead & January would be proud of me....

Because you just can't........

you can't measure a soldier

by the size of the uniform that he wears

you can't measure misery by the cross that it bears

you can't use my dignity to hide your own shame

you can't live your life with your father's name

you can't love and let go and want it back once more

you can't promise and then say you weren't really sure