You can strip me naked...

 I was born a little ‘Girl’ to parents, who caressed me with love and affection,

          But I was stripped naked, when society labeled me as the ‘Weaker Sex’

I was born again, when education instilled in me the required confidence,

         But I was stripped naked, when society yelled ‘Why educate her? She is a Girl!!'

I was born again, the day I first bled,

        But I was stripped naked, when myths, taboos made me as 'untouchable'.

I was born again, when my body developed contours,

       But I was stripped naked, when this body was hounded by savages.

I was born again, the day I got married,

      But I was stripped naked, when dowry, domestic violence and marital rape tore me apart.

I was born again, when I became a mother,

     But I was stripped naked, when the society knew 'it' was a girl.

Today as my soul departs and I rest in peace,

    You can't strip me naked, as I am too far from your reach.

You can pull me down, tear me apart, and strip me naked,
    I will keep on rising every time, because I am a WOMAN...a Woman of strength.

FEMFLASH 2013
(pic courtesy:- blingee)

A silent hope…

I remember the day when this political party came to power; I heaved a sigh of great relief not because of the similarities in our political ideologies but because like the others, even I desired to witness some change or ‘poriborton’ in the real sense.

However as the days passed, I gradually realized what this poriborton was, and how and why people of the other states actually get a reason to make fun of us. Be it the buffoonery, mudslinging and all the other idiosyncrasies of our politicians, the dismal job prospects or talk about the lack of security given to women, we are always the butt of jokes.

I am writing this not out of sheer frustration looking at the state of affairs, I am writing it because I am sad and I seriously wish my city really stood for the name ‘City of Joy’.   

I have been born and brought up in Calcutta and yes this is the place where I have actually transformed from a young girl to a woman. So this place has not only given shape to my body, but also to my beliefs.

As a student, I have never felt my city to be this unsafe as it is today, yes of course there has always been some weird uncle ogling at me, or a brat trying to elbow me in a crowded bus or someone pinching my bottom. But I guess all of us have been ingrained in such a way to believe that these unwanted freebies will always be there because you are a 'GIRL'.
Being a girl, I am always expected to stay prim and proper, and for e.g. even if my bra strap gets visible or if I am wearing something body hugging, then some guy can get aroused which actually makes this otherwise godly person to behave in this wild way.  I know, I am digressing from the subject, but is it possible to separate the two,-safety of women and the dominance of the prevalent patriarchy in our society? 

Hope the level of  harassment could have been restricted to the above mentioned bars. As with every passing day, various new forms of perversion are being invented, applied and experimented on women. 

Today morning, my parents had a very serious discussion with me about their concern that I am returning home late (which is 10 PM) every day because of my office. I couldn't understand why all of a sudden this curfew was being set for me that I need to leave office by 6:30 PM.  I got agitated, lest realizing the reason for their berserk behaviour. It’s only when I glanced at today’s paper that things fell into place.  

Today I feel crippled in my city, because I can’t do things which my heart desires for, I can’t wear clothes which I want to wear, because there will be someone salivating mere looking at my breasts, I can’t write or speak freely, because I can be termed as a Maoist. I can’t use the social networking sites or share or tag my friends there, because there is someone for whom tracking my social activity is more grave an issue than tracking or trying to curb the crime on women.

Yes I am sad, in my own city, the city where I was born 26 years back, the city where I have spent the best days of my life, the city which has moulded me and is responsible for who I am today.

Dear Calcutta, we are all waiting to breathe that fresh bout of air if not today, but tomorrow for sure. 

MALE or FE-MALE

Words like patriarchy and feminism always stirs up some weird emotions inside me which automatically activates my fighting cells. (if there are any)

My morning today started with a very healthy discussion with a friend of mine on these issues. What overwhelmed me in this conversation was his sensitiveness towards this subject, him acknowledging the stinginess of all ‘our’ mindset which is so hell bent on patriarchy and him even admonishing me for accepting all the injustices around us so easily.  It was a discussion which I wanted to continue, but time was the major constraint so we decided to carry on the conversation some other day.

The second half of this discussion with some other person happened some time later. It was just after lunch and me savoring the delicious mushroom and sausage curry, I overheard a conversation which irritated me to great extent.

I was near the wash basin, when the person next in line who is our office boy Mr. X came to wash his Tiffin box. This person has recently tied the knot and it is not even 15 days that he is a married man.  Every day he had been complaining of only one thing- “My wife can’t even cook properly; she is either sleeping or watching TV all day long”.  Mr. X was cleaning his Tiffin Box when the next guy in the queue comments in Hindi “Have you lost it, why are you cleaning your Tiffin box- have you forgotten that now you are a married man and you have wife at home?”

Failing to curb my annoyance over hearing such a statement, I ask him to repeat again. He gladly grins and tries to modify his statement “You are getting me all wrong, what I meant was why you wasting your time washing your Tiffin box, when your wife as she is a house wife can do it. In this way, the others in the queue won’t have to wait so much for their turn”.

I smiled and pitied his up-bringing and ignorance level and after some fracas decided to give up.

As I found, the deeper I dug, the murkier it got. I just told him one thing that today I understood why derogatorily the area from where you hail is referred as ‘cow belt’.  He was least bothered with the discussion and in fact again started reiterating the fact that what else a housewife is supposed to do.

So today, I actually had an interaction with two different types of ‘Male’, one who wants to merge two different identities, by adding two extra alphabets to himself- FE-MALE, while the other can be rightfully termed as a chauvinist as he wants to prioritize himself by retaining just the word ‘MALE’. 

Can I share your dabba please?

"What are you carrying for lunch today?” “Can I join you for lunch? “Hey there is a lot to catch up during the lunch period today”. For every office-goer, out of the eight hours spent in office, lunch time is the only period which everyone waits for eagerly. (Or at least I do)

I can do anything in this world to get even five minutes extra time in bed every morning. I hate waking up early…but I had to if I packed tiffin myself. Just to escape the entire ordeal and being hit by the laziness bug, I availed the lunch service from the Dabbawala for a very brief period. Initially the excitement level was at its peak, the craze to open the dabba and gradually unravel the surprise at each step of the dabba. This zeal didn't last long and soon I got bored with the usage of the same ingredients in all the dishes- For e.g. nariyal or coconut was used in daal and all the sabjis everyday. Many a times, the sight of the food itself was so unpleasing and for the rest of the days, the food was not even palatable. . 

On these specific days, my dabba was left untouched, and let me assure you, I was not the only one in the league. My office was located at one of the prime locations and I had the option of ordering anything under the sun from the nearby restaurants. Yes, I never stayed hungry, but many are not fortunate like me.

Recently when I read about the Share My Dabba initiative which allows you to share your food with several hungry children on the streets in Mumbai, it touched me. It’s a well thought idea and beautifully executed by the Happy Life Welfare Society and the Dabbawala Foundation. It works in this way, if you wish to share your food with the street children, just put a sticker on your dabba, this will enable the volunteers to identify your dabba and distribute the food accordingly.

Statistics point that more than 20,000 street children in Mumbai starve to get even a morsel of food. I believe Share My Dabba is a very small step which is at least trying to narrow down this huge gap which exists in our society.

What is disheartening here are the numerous criticisms which are trying to mar the noble cause of this initiative. Some have been saying that sharing food in this way to thousands of hungry children is similar to feeding your leftovers to the dogs. Others have been complaining about the hygiene level of the dabba. Now let’s give it a thought logically without getting too emotional that this initiative is trying to degrade the feelings of poor children.

For e.g. if you are sharing your lunch with your friend, will you keep it all messy? Will you be unhygienic? Will you just keep leftover in your lunch boxes knowing that someone else will be having it next? Or will you share your food if you are suffering from some ailment and viral fever? You won’t right? So it’s exactly the same case where you are sharing your lunch boxes with several hungry little street friends.

Let’s not tarnish the image of this well thought and executed idea, for those of you who feel, it’s deplorable and disgusting to share your leftovers to street children, don’t put the stickers and thus you won’t be sharing. And for those who want to share your food, contact your dabbawala for the stickers and share them without considering it a charity.

Fraudsters go door to door in the name of Big Bazaar

Below is a very common conversation which actually happened between my mom and a salesman yesterday.
It’s a very common sight especially during noon when these salesmen go door to door to sell their product.

With so many fraudsters in the market, it is next to impossible to trust these people.

Door Bell rings.....

Mom- yes who is it?
Salesman: Madam Can you please open the door?)
Mom:  What is it for?
Salesman: Mam, I have come from Big Bazaar- we are issuing discount cards to senior citizen members. Is there any senior citizen member in your family?
Mom: Yes. What is the card about and what benefits will I get?
Salesman: See Mam as you know Big Bazaar is having this Maha sasta offer from 23th-27th January. With this card you can avail 5% special discount over the existing offer. Then every Sunday, we will get our vehicle down to your building and will provide with fresh vegetables. All you have to do this get down to your building and we will swipe the amount from your card with some bonus points being added to your card.
Mom: So what are the documents you need for issuing this card?
Salesman: Mam as I have mentioned, this card is free of cost. All we need is a xerox copy of the senior citizen's pancard. Mam there is also a special free gift offer for today.
Me: My ears got alert at the mention of the word FREE..I shouted from the other room.." Maa please ask him what is the free gift"
Salesman: Only for today, along with this free card. Big Bazaar is offering a 75% discount on this micro-oven. The refrigerator was also on offer, but it is out of stock now.
Mom: No thank you..I have enough electronic products and we don't require any
Salesman: Mam, imagine it’s a 75% offer, which you won't get anywhere. He then sees a glimpse of me. Mam you can also gift it to didi for her wedding.
Mom: No we don't need this product. But come after 5 minutes, I will get the xerox copy of the pancard and other things for the issuance of the card
Salesman: Sure Mam. I will come in 5 minutes.

Mom was quite skeptical as she said, if Big Bazaar comes in every locality with their car and sells vegetables door to door. They will obviously face opposition from the local vendors. I don't how they will do it.
The salesman never turned up after that. The form is still lying as it is on our table.
Today morning I decided to call Big Bazaar and know if they are actually having such special offers for the senior members.

Me: Are you having any special offers for the senior citizen members by issuing them some Big Bazaar cards?
Big Bazaar employee: No mam, Big Bazaar is not having any such offers and it is anyways our ‘maha sasta’ offer going on and we don't offer door to door delivery of vegetables. These are a bunch of fraudsters in the market cheating people in the name of our company.
 Mam you tell me something- 75% discount on micro-oven is it even possible? By giving this attractive offer, they will lure those customers who are planning to change their micro oven (As the offer sounds great-Imagine you will get a Rs 5,000 oven for Rs 1,250). We have already informed our local police about this fraud.

It’s a request to you to please spread awareness among your neighbourhood and friends that actually no such offer is going on in the market. I don’t know about any other city, however if you come across such offers- please don’t fall for the trap and take them to the local police station if necessary.

Note:

The posts below were written over a period of 3 years. They got deleted somehow, so I have posted them again in this new blog of mine..:)

Apologies for all the mismatch in timings with regards to the blog.

All the incidents which have been mentioned in this blog till date have been quite special or thought provoking to me and that is the reason I had penned them..For those who haven't read-hope you guys enjoy going through my blog.

Short stint with rommmates

Room mates are such an integral part of your life specially when you are staying in a far off place and living all by your self. In my college days I was indeed blessed to have Payel as my roomie...the camaraderie we shared was beyond any words..the care and the concern which she had for me was nothing less than her own sister..In short I was pampered like hell which made the other hostelites envy me.

However I was SHOCKED on coming to Mumbai and to get a kind of reverse treatment from my room mate, Deepa. As it is life was tough then. 1stly new job...new people around...new city and to top it all a pestering room mate. I used to look forward to share things with her..my usual habit which I did with my previous one too...but her arrogant mannerisms made me stay away from her...her stingy ways made me cry and untidiness was something with which she was eternally binded to. I wanted to either run from this place or make her leave this house...

However my ears in those days became extra sensitive and alert while I kept waiting for my other flat mate who being a reporter came a bit late after completing her chase with the Ambani brothers...The half an hour conversation which we had every night made me forget the cold war scenario inside my room and helped me to go to bed with a smile..

God finally showered all his blessings on me and my room mate finally left one day...

By then some changes already started taking place in me... I acquired some of the basic culinary skills to survive... thanks to the immense patience on Bhuma's side who literally taught me from scratch...otherwise maa used to say that "amar bor er kopal a onek dukhho...maggi chara aar kichu khete parbena''..ie my husband won't get 2 have any thing other than maggie..."What ever little I made ...the boost which she gave me helped me to keep my spirits high..

The next addition to our small media family was Kamya...a cool bindas Delhite and a big cleanliness freak..coming from the same media world we share the similar problems...and Bhuma being a few years senior in this profession gives us her valuable suggestion to help us survive in this field.

Our conversations revolves around many things... from media gossip..to politics...to intellectual and healthy debate..

All I can say that these two girls have spoiled me a lot...I LOVE MUSHROOMs..so does Kamya and Bhuma..but they so happily part with it by transferring all of them on my plate which I don't think I would willingly do for any one.

I know that very soon we won't be having these late night adda sessions...I HATE KAMYA FOR THIS:(

Anyways this is life...Sometimes we forget that we are not here to stay always...our priorities are different for coming to this city...but I personally feel that for how short a period we put up...why not stay like a family as we have nothing to lose but only fond memories to take with us...:)