Posts Tagged ‘Feminist’

“I’m terribly scared mother”, I’d say every night

Clutching the tattered end of her sari as she put me to sleep

“Don’t leave me alone mother for I fear the Monster!”

I pleaded and implored her to not leave

There are no monsters in this world, my child” she’d say

But I saw monsters, each and every day

I saw the monster in my mother’s terrified eyes

In the bruises she tried very hard to hide

I could see that the monster hurt her everyday

Yet, never for once she paid heed to what I had to say


“There’s a Monster in the house mother!”, I’d say

I hear it yell and growl behind closed doors everyday

Too scared I am to come out of my room mother.

I know it is very much out there!

“Honey, these are your imaginations or maybe just a dream”, said she

Was she fighting it alone just to keep it away from me?


One chilly night, she died – fighting the monster all alone

How brave she was to give up her life – A hero for me she was!

Quietly as I sobbed, my father approached me with open arms

Tightly I shut my eyes as he came closer and closer

And tried convincing myself, “There are no Monster’s in this world”

“There are no Monster’s in this world”




We may protest and debate and reform our laws and policies… We can make an issue out of it and soon forget about it. But is that enough? Where is the root of all this?

We live in a society where the very mention of the word “sex” causes us to shy away. Talking about sex openly is still a taboo. We are taught as if it is something that has to be suppressed. We are expected to remain chaste, naive and ignorant about sex till we are married (or at least till the age of 18). Come on… One of the rapists was a minor…!!!

We live in a society where we receive little or no sex-education at school… where premarital sex cannot even be mentioned without hesitation, How is it any different from any other human sensation and instinct? Hiding it or shying away from it causes more curiosity and hence its unwanted after effects. Philosophically speaking – what we resist, persists.

We live in a society where poverty, illiteracy, abuse and violence etc. are too rampant to rear morally sound people – to produce sensitive human beings. Blaming the culprits or even hanging them is not going to solve anything.

We live in a society where an unmarried mother is questioned about her morality. Don’t we know that a male plays an equal role in human reproduction? We live in a society where there is tremendous gender bias… where we find only female feminists. Even they are looked down upon as dogs that bark for no reason. To liberate females, males have to be liberated as well. Blaming men for oppression or blaming females for accepting it will lead us nowhere.

Why live in denial?

And today I “shamelessly” write this for you to read it and be “shamelessly bold” enough to share it, only if you agree to it.





Dr. Anurag was examining a patient’s medical report in his cabin when head nurse Seema dashed in without even knocking. Anurag looked up. Her worried face clearly meant – an emergency case. He rose immediately and waited for her to gasp and speak.

“Doctor, Police case… suicide attempt… ICU 4…” She spoke in broken words, catching up for breath.

Anurag signaled her to follow and both were soon walking down the wide hospital corridor towards the Emergency Wing. Even after eight years of medical practice, emergency cases still managed to shake his heart which was otherwise very strong. The faces of relatives waiting outside… teary and fearful eyes… with all their hopes resting on him… All this always touched his inner being somewhere. It definitely wasn’t a very comfortable feeling.

“How bad is it?” finally he asked.
“Very bad sir… slashed wrist and overdose of sleeping pills.” replied Seema.
“Damn… Flushed the intestines?”
“Yes. Nurse Eva is in-charge… poor little thing.” Old Seema was always full of sympathy for young female victims of physical abuse. She never called any patient “poor little thing” otherwise.
“So, not just suicide attempt. Physical abuse too?” He inquired.
“Physical and sexual” she answered.
“No… Well Yes… her husband.”
“God!!!” Anurag exclaimed in disgust.

He tried not to look at the faces of the patient’s family members waiting outside the ICU. He went in quickly. The patient lay there with the Oxygen mask on. She was on the ventilator… There were bruise marks above the left eye. There were many old as well as fresh marks on her neck and shoulders.

The Nurse removed the cloth covering the patient’s body… Red and blue scars covered almost every portion of the milky white skin. The body was covered with scratches and teeth mark everywhere… as if a wild animal had tried to tear her apart.

He examined every wound carefully. There were many old scars and few fresh ones, clearly indicating regular physical abuse. He checked her heartbeat and pulse… it was terribly slow… The ECG monitor showed an almost horizontal line… He signaled the nurse to increase the oxygen supply.

After instructing few things to Seema and Eva, Anurag left the ICU.


“Hello Doctor, How is the patient?” A police officer asked as he walked out.

Anurag looked around to see the anxious family members. “Well. I cannot say anything right now Inspector… it’s a 50-50 thing.” he felt there was no point keeping the family in darkness.

“Can we speak doctor? We need to talk.” The inspector asked.

“Sure… At my office?” Anurag suggested.

The Inspector and a constable followed with a bunch of paper in his hand.

Anurag sat on his chair and waited for the police officer to speak. The Inspector sat and stretched himself on the chair. Then he read out “Well doctor, patient Gurpreet Kaur… age thirty three… Where are the other fucking details?” he growled at the constable standing next to him.

“Gurpreet Kaur… thirty three years…” Anurag suddenly grew restless… the name was enough to make his heart skip and beat faster. “Gurpreet… thirty three years old… was it her? No. She might be some other Gurpreet…” he tried to convince himself. He looked at the inspector for rest of the details trying not to appear too desperate.

“Oh, by the way doctor… she is a doctor… MBBS… but never practised… her family got her married to a NRI businessman eleven years back. She told her family about all this many times. She wanted to file a divorce too. But her parents wouldn’t listen… Family honour, you know… divorced daughter is a humiliation in the society. Now see what happened?” The inspector explained…

“Gurpreet… thirty three years old… MBBS… married for eleven years…” Anurag tried connecting the dots inside his head, it is definitely her. He remembered the deep dark mole on her left wrist. Yes it was his Gurpreet. Blood rushed into his head and his heart pounded vigorously. He rose from his chair, excused himself and almost ran towards the emergency wing.


“She’s better now. Stable enough.” Seema pointed at the ECG monitor and left.

He walked towards the bed as the nurse left. Tears welled up in his eyes as he stood beside her. Memories gushed in… Gurpreet… the fiery feminist. The tall, slender and unassuming girl who had thrashed a senior in front of the whole college one day. He had been stalking and harassing her best friend. Anurag was among the mute spectators watching his frail classmate Gurpreet pin down that giant fellow. He had fallen in love with her that very instant.

She was bold and confident… enthusiastic in sports and extracurricular. She was the first one to raise her voice when any injustice or bias happened. She had relentlessly pursued the management to approve publishing a quarterly women centric magazine. Gurpreet was the editor of “WeMan” and it was published regularly for next five years despite constant ridicule by boys and certain girls as well.

Anurag sneaked in the “WeMan” every three months into his hostel room and read the blazing editorial that Gurpreet wrote. She wrote about strong single women, body hair in woman, cosmetic market, portrayal of women in advertisements and a myriad of feminist topics. He used to hide it in his drawer after reading and locked it safely to avoid his roommates finding out. He wasn’t as bold as she was!

He could never collect enough courage to confess his feeling in five years. By the time he had gained enough strength to propose her, she was already engaged to a NRI businessman. She said it was her conservative parent’s final decision and she could not do anything about it. That was the first time he saw her surrendering to typical social norms – that too for something as significant as marriage!

He looked at the fair face with dark curls… she looked beautiful even with the oxygen mask on and tubes all over her body. He moved closer… stretched his hand towards her face… he wanted to touch her… at least for once!!!

Was he misusing her helplessness and unconscious state… he asked himself. He pulled his hand back.

“You love her. It is OK to touch her as long as you do not pity her. She would have hated it if anyone pitied her or her circumstances. Go ahead… she deserves a tender touch of love. Touch her with love, not with pity.” another voice in his head spoke.

Anurag stretched his hand and gently touched her face… with his index finger… He smiled at her although he knew that she could not see it. She was still unconscious. Once she gets well and is completely cured, he decided to propose her again…!



Kindly comment on the content as well as the style… honest and sincere criticisms and literary suggestions are welcome.




I was about 14 years old when it all began… All my girl friends started to thread their eyebrows. I could not help noticing how artificial it looked – the clean distinct line of eyebrow hair above the eyes. Some would even sneakily use their dad’s razor to shave off hair on their arms and legs. I could feel the prickly hair that emerged afterwards when I accidentally brushed against them.  Back then I was too busy in my own happy world to try these things on myself.

It is really surprising to see teen girls and young women spending so much time, energy and money on so called grooming up. Why is body hair in woman considered so repulsive? And how do these young girls get so inspired to bear the pain of plucking out the innocent little hair off their body? It has nothing to do with health or hygiene. It is a deeply rooted psychological issue in our society. A hot female model or a film celebrity is always the first idol every young girl aspires to become. Their hotness is portrayed by impeccably airbrushed breasts, waist and hips… not a trace of body hair is to be seen anywhere. Not a single model or celebrity has body hair or bushy eyebrows! They are the ones who promote all sorts of hair removing products and flawless skin.

Peer pressure is another big reason. No kid is appreciated for being different. They immediately get tagged as weirdo or a geek. Some have that natural individuality in them but this does not last long. Ridicule, constant reminders and standing out distinctly from others can be uncomfortable to the toughest individualistic person at times. And at that tender age, all they want is to fit in. They do it because everybody else is doing it. This is an unconscious choice that every girl makes.

Men have their share of body hair – much more than a woman does. Apart from arms and legs they have hair on their chest and bellies! Why isn’t anyone advising them to wax it off? The same hair removing products can be applied to male bodies as well… aren’t they? Body hair in men is considered a sign of strength, manliness and even erotic. Young men are repulsed by body hair in females. Exposure to porn is immense and the idea of a female body is completely distorted by this. Women portrayed by porn and the media are so unnatural. And hence every young man today desires a flawless woman. And many women give in to their partner’s desires to achieve that desirable look – being body hairless is one of the major steps. Bikini waxing is gaining more and more popularity among young women. Is there any woman who really enjoys this painful process?

Luckily I wasn’t sucked in by fads or trends or whatever you wish to call it. I never cared if my eyebrows were thick or uneven. I tried avoiding skirts and shorts as much as I could. But I love to wear them! Why should I care so much and compromise on the type of clothes I like to wear? The weird looks by men and women definitely make me feel conscious at times. I try not to care. I actually don’t care. Especially, when I see women staring at my legs with surprise, I give them a smile. I do not understand why can’t they love and accept themselves and others the way they are? Do they stare at men’s legs (ten times hairier than mine) in the same way? I am what I am… I do not need to peel out my skin or put layers of makeup on my face to make myself look beautiful. I feel confident and beautiful from within and that is what really matters. I do not have to follow any trends to make myself feel confident. I have taken this conscious decision to stay natural and remain a non conformist in this programmed society.

I do not want to tag myself as a feminist. Why use that word at all? I am a normal girl who wants to live a normal and natural life unaffected by the psychological, cultural, social and emotional maxims of the society.