Burying our daughters

     We always tell our girls "it's unsafe outside, don't go", instead imagine a world where we told them "it's unsafe outside, go make it better!".
     The fact that I am a girl and hence vulnerable and unsafe, doesn't ever escape my mind(I'm sure a lot of women will share the same feeling), because the world around me keeps reminding me that I shall be eaten alive the very next moment. Will we ever teach ourselves to be fearless, and fight for ourselves?
     I've had to see my mother go through the struggle of letting me go, and I always thought what's her problem? I need to go out someday! But having worked with beautiful children the past two years, I can see where the protective instincts come from.
     When she finally let go two years ago, I forgot to tell her how proud I was of her! But, little did I know the world hadn't stopped trying to hide me, to bury me! People all around me, even today, 'advise me' not to travel alone, not to go out after 9 or not to hang out with young boys too much!
     But is burying our women in safety, or rather disguised safety, really the answer? What is the difference between restricting a woman from living her life fully and ending the life of a female foetus? We don't want to be responsible for either one's repercussions. 
     Nineteen years of my life my protective mom taught me that I couldn't fight for myself because the world outside was mean and evil, I wouldn't be safe. But despite the love, when I flew out of my nest the world took up the task of telling me to hide behind safety.      Ironically, as I hear these voices who only see the vulnerability of my gender, the past month has been so inspiring and uplifting because of all the strong kick-arse women I've met! I've heard the CEO of India's biggest fellowship pour her heart out, I've heard the founder of an amazing school tell me gender biases are just an excuse, I've met a founder of a weavers society who worked with them for fourteen years to empower and build an enterprise from nothing to a 5 crore turn over, and oh so many women with the power in their voices that are still flashing before my eyes.
     Maybe I should just listen to these women, and tune out the rest, atleast that's what my mom says.

Sine you've read till the end, do read these too :

• The Big Elephant in My Room - My parents' seperation
• Dream To Be Free

The Tea Boiling Over

     The year 2013 was a very tough one, especially the month of December. I lived in a typical Indian rural village, caught between the traditions of the old times and the advancements of modern societies. I had to live with a family from the village, as any other family member, experiencing their lives without the luxuries that I came from.

       Amidst all of this, was the little daughter and her friend living every day as it came. Waiting for the tea they made everyday for all household members, and watching them in their childish freedom, wrote a poem. 

      Despite the shift in the society towards womens' rights and equality, the reality in our daily lives remains unchanged. Perhaps this pain is what brought on this expression. 

The girls making serving tea in the school.

Every inch of the old dusty mud house

Touched by their loud innocent giggles

The air slowly invaded

By the aroma of the tea they make.

Their mother bathing half naked

By the open tap overlooking the hills,

Warns them of the tea boiling over,

As they continue amusing each other like kids.

How are they to know

Every minute spent here with mother

Is just another step

Towards their new destined homes?

Homes decided while they sat dreaming

Of their futures untold to them yet.

Their very mother by their side

Shall send them off with packed suitcases

Before their childhood giggles mature into a woman’s laughter.

Their innocence blind

To how their families will soon,

Very soon,

Sell them off in marriage

Only to fill their old dusty mud house

With sobs of another’s little daughter.


Don't forget to also read :

• The Big Elephant In The Room - My Parents' Seperation
• The Super(wo)man Inside All Of Us