Unequal Role Perceptions

I was fifteen when I had told a friend that I want to be a single mother because "I don't want to share my baby with anyone else." I told her that I felt my mom was capable of doing everything that my dad does if she wants to but my dad can't do the same. So, I can imagine her bringing me up on her own but the idea of growing up with only my father scares the shit out of me. I also admitted that I like boys but I'm not sure about sharing things I love with them(chocolates and books being my obvious choice back then). My friend was horrified and even though she didn't tell me, I'm sure she thanked God for not being my daughter. A decade has passed but the story remains the same everywhere.

                                                                                                                        I'm not a staunch feminist. In fact, I have chosen to call myself "not a feminist" for at least the past five years. So, the idea of some people perceiving women as weak, fragile and dependent doesn't annoy me, it amuses me. Yes, I have seen women who always need someone to fall back on but I know for sure that I can bloody well protect my child in this big, bad world and provide for them as long as I have a job and I'm physically fit.

                    On a related note, I was reading an article the other day about male rape victims finding it difficult to share their pain and seek medical help because being raped isn't "manly" and trying to carry on with their so called normal life despite the regular bleeding and the pus-covered anus. A little more research on the same topic made me throw up and cry. I kept wondering what purpose such skewed role definitions of our society served other than alienating people and breaking their hearts. Putting your wife through indirect mental torture because she earns more than you do is as bad as leaving your husband because he is a rape victim. Forcing your son to go for Cricket coaching instead of Odissi classes is as bad as not letting your daughter go to school. When would we accept human beings as human beings? I see so many brave, intelligent, powerful women wasting all their energy on the eternal I-can-do-it-better-than-you fight with men instead of trying to find out what it is that they are originally good at and focus on being the best at that instead of always trying to be better than someone. If one always strives to be as good as someone at something, the person would never be able to rise beyond that someone. I should aim to be my best. If I end up being better than a few people in the process, that's only an added bonus. Is it that hard to achieve? I dream of a society where sex would be just as menial an information as someone's blood group on a form which is meant to be used only in case of emergency. I dream of a society that welcomes both a masculine woman and an effeminate man with an open embrace. I dream of a society where I won't be judged for being a single mother and my son won't be called names if he finds my aanchal comforting even after the age of eighteen. I dream of a society where I'd be a human being first and then a woman.

Maxi dress- Emami Market, cuff and rings- New Market, silver kolhapuri- Shreeram Arcade, lipstick- Orange Punch by Colorbar

The City of Dreams

You know how some people say the entire concept of a place having its own distinct vibe is overrated? Well, let me tell you they are ABSOLUTELY WRONG and I'm a living example of that. If you are a regular reader or connected to me on social media, you'd know about the slow and dangerous depression that started taking over my life ever since I had moved to Indore. I tried embracing the place- exaggerating the quality of dahi at 'Joshi ke dahi vada' and extending the time in the gym but with its not-so-charming small town vibe, closed people living in an age where women are supposed to do all the household chores and keep quiet if they are harassed on the streets, banners and hoardings urging people to quit drinking and eating non-veg or be hanged if the non-veg happens to be beef...Indore just never worked out. I was slowly turning into a person I didn't know- introvert, pessimistic, cynical, irritable and snappy. I also kept falling sick often and the experience of going to a doctor and describing my problem in Indore had been so bad for me that I preferred gulping medicines down day in and day out and stay indoors instead.
                                                                                                As they say, after every dark phase, there is a silver lining. In my case, it was an intimation from the Management regarding my temporary posting in the Mumbai office. Even though I was still recovering, I was elated and couldn't wait to leave! And then came the much-awaited day when I could finally say goodbye to Indore even if for a few months. I woke up the next morning, somewhere near Sion, already feeling the infectious positivism I find Mumbai synonymous with. I could already smell the fish and seafood, see the bustling vada pav stalls, feel the sand and water under my feet, hear the Colaba hawkers calling out to me in my mind. The City of Dreams represents the undying, indomitable spirit of life to me. People do everything they can here to earn themselves a livelihood. And despite poverty, inflation and all other common problems(other than safety of women) Mumbai shares with the other Indian cities, the people in Mumbai just refuse to let these get to them and make them unhappy. Every person has different sides to their personality and each place uncovers one of these. I'm no exception either. The moment I arrived in Mumbai, gone were the depression, the urge to lock myself in a room and cry for hours, the withdrawal symptoms and everything else I had been struggling with. When I ordered my first vada pav in two months at a roadside stall near Chandivali, I was a happy soul and it hasn't changed since then. Small, small things make me happy in this city- a long walk all alone post 11 p.m. without the fear of getting groped, watching people rushing about in one of the local railway stations during the peak hours, looking at the street lights and the cars whooshing past them when I wake up after a rare nightmare(traces of Indore I'm slowly and methodically getting rid of), the city talking to me when I stick my head out of the auto to embrace the fresh morning air on my way to gym early in the morning, the vada pav wala near LnT crossing who never forgets to make my vada pav with extra green chutney and no sweet chutney...and all I feel coming out of my heart is gratitude. Gratitude towards life for giving me a chance to be happy again, to get my dreams back in exchange for the nightmares I had been dealing with for the past few months, to live...
                                                                                                                                         And since this city has healed me so soon and so perfectly, here goes an outfit as a tribute to my second favourite city(Kolkata would be Kolkata and hence, my favourite city always, no matter what)-

DIY distressed denims and crop top- Jabong, satchel bag, ring and spiked loafers- B.K.Market, waistcoat- Colaba Causeway, shades- Myntra, lipstick- Orange Punch by Colorbar

Ever since Debi distressed this pair of denims for me, I find myself reaching for it at least once every week. And since my love for layering refuses to die even in the humid Mumbai weather, the waistcoat had to find its way with the crop top. The serene beach, the wind in my hair and the sand under my feet took care of the rest. I'll be back with more florals, pastels and everything girlie and meanwhile, you take care and like I always say, keep it stylish.