Fight #Flashfiction

Roohi was the most promising child in the karate club. Just 13 she had already won several championships and was now a purple belt holder. Walking back from the class every evening with her mom she saw the kids selling fruits and flowers on the pavement.

One evening she gave the banana she had in her bag to the little girl selling flowers and got to know her name was Radha, she was just seven. The friendship gradually developed, Radha was fascinated by the Karate uniform and displayed some moves she had seen peeping into the Club compound sometimes.

Roohi told her mom that she was old enough not to have fancy birthday parties any more can that money be given as Radha's fees for a basic kaarte course. her mother agreed reluctantly.

Three months later winning her first fight radha ran up to Roohi, "Give me five didi ! WHat do you say - what your teacher told you- hail sisterhoods !"

This was Roohi's proudest win ever.

This post is part of a blogathon/ BarAThon at Blogarhythm

Namelessness of the one with a thousand names

“Few tasks are more like the torture of Sisyphus than housework, with its endless repetition: the clean becomes soiled, the soiled is made clean, over and over, day after day.”

― Simone de Beauvoir

I wash everything

I scrub it clean

along with the vessels

the vegetables

my consciousness

of any sense of me

I peel the skin

delicately

potatoes can also

look like hearts

to mad women

like me

Time looks like

a fine stainless steel grater

I grate my ego

fine, finer

so that all

my questions die

your love sharp

like a shining knife

I chop, chop,chop

my self in to

smaller pieces

so that of my "I"

remains no sign

Now I knead

mix it, dissolve it

add more water

that will bind it fast

to make a stiff dough

of tradition

against which I punch

my knuckles

till they hurt,never bleed

the oil heats like

my simmering soul

In the wok of your

grand celebration

I deep fry

the remains of 

my hard work, pride

self-worth and name

The festive feast 

for your Devi

Venerate, celebrate her

who isn't nameless like me but  

who has a thousand names* !

* Durga- the Hindu deity is believed to have a thousand names

Why Complain?

There is an iron mold

hard, stiff and cold

they all have to fit in

goddess, bitch, 

wife or whore

each in their own frame

and why complain?

they have the pedestals

the whore-houses

homes and tombs

what good is empowerment

 without a man

work for him ,birth progeny

provide pleasure

take his name

why complain?

Feminism is only

for the mad single women

who waste their lives

asking questions

in vain

you the good women

must be seen not heard

you the "devi"

the maa and the behan**

why complain?

*mother, ** sister but here used together to indicate sexist abuses in Hindi

Yes I have a Vagina ! #KanganaRanaut #AIB

Recently AIB launched a parody video featuring Kangana Ranaut is not only probably her personal stance about sexism and nepotism in Bollywood but to extend the metaphor is also a reflection of the conventional cliches that dictate most of Indian men-women relationships at large as well.

She outdoes her Aap ki Adalat interview here taking a satirical and musical dig at what is wrong with the Indian ideal male hood.
At the onset the heroine is asked- Who are you? , a question that haunts most women in a traditional setup where largely still even their last names are not a choice but denote them “belonging” to father/husband’s family. At best they only get recognized as “love interest” of the hero in films and as wife/girlfriend/spouse of a certain so and so.

The lady being a physicist/scientist or any other professional is of little interest and while her opinion is dismissed as just a “cute” whim the same opinion from a male is THE WORD, and widely accepted as intelligent speak.

Women must be seen not heard is still like the default brief in Indian patriarchal psyche whether it’s the hero, director( symbolically other men/women in authority) , just titillate and look good, no need to use your mind or voice. As one of her female co-star says in the video, “….don't say anything just smile and dance.”


The woman asserts- I have self-respect, yes like most “modern” women would and not just remained confined to “smoke a cigarette and abuse brand of modern womanhood”, and that becomes the point of conflict in most relationships.

In a satirical vein the lady touches lots of raw veins that still hurt a lot of women in real life too – social approval for older man/younger woman relationship (even if it’s almost pedophilia kind of an age difference) but older woman/younger man and she becomes the cradle snatcher. Older heroines pushed to the margin selling detergents/soaps just like women are after marriage/motherhood while men can still be Casanovas and male leads.

The lady also talks about cleavage being used to sell products, no carbs to have perfect bodies to be objectified because we have a vagina.

The glass ceiling in getting better opportunities, in getting better pay for same work, in men having entitlement to call the shots is not just a Bollywood thing but an everyday reality for most women. 

Their work pre-defined to reduce themselves to being showpieces and remaining lesser than and/or dependent on men , though symbolically putting the name first in the casting or “giving” them progressive roles in homes and outside seems to be the favor men are doing.

The mansplaining throughout is so real in everyday situations and relationships and the last nail is how when a woman speaks she is not even “allowed” to own her bad-ass card but labelled as playing the victim card.

More voice to every girl who doesn't mince her words !! 
Yes We have a Vagina !!

Mansplain !! (Men Explain Things To Me )

The do's and don'ts

should and shouldn'ts

yours to say

and mine to obey

the list is long

- smile some more

- just ignore

-let me handle this

- just dismiss

he takes the call

crawl or brawl

Since Mahabharata 

they have the dice 

as if we are mice

blindly following a piper

into a ditch

Dear men

please abstain

I understand

this pounce and save

is an old game 

I need no saviour

no patron , no saint 

I can take my calls

and wage my wars

keep in your pants 

your mansplain* !

*verb

informal

1. (of a man) explain (something) to someone, typically a woman, in a manner regarded as condescending or patronizing.

Term derived from Rebecca Solnit 's Men Explain Things To Me

#ALetterToHer from Agony Auntie

Dear Woman,

Hi! Don’t be annoyed about me not using your name. Your name doesn’t matter, nor do your circumstances or identity. You could be an urban, educated, liberal, independent modern girl, or a not so educated, conservative, traditional rural girl.

He could be your husband, lover, boyfriend, live-in partner, but none of these permutations and combinations alter the anatomy of your emotionally abusive relationship.

Remember the first time he cracked a misogynist joke in your presence and you smiled or maybe even laughed along, after all he was your man, you were expected to stand by whatever he said, believed or laughed at.

Remember the first lump in your throat he caused. It could be about something as trivial as your bra-strap showing or the tea not being just right. You sobbed in the washroom or wept aloud after he was gone and then turned into self-censor for your dresses and recipes (well done). 

He loved you, you told yourself over and over again, he meant well, of course good women like you never annoy their men.

Remember how suddenly you the woman of his dreams became someone else- selfish, conniving, clumsy. How every conversation was suddenly flooded with accusations or threats? “If you love me…became the string, and you the puppet.Obviously you are nurturer by birth, aren't you?

Remember how you surrendered slowly to criticism, prying and his overbearing presence in your life. But love is supposed to overwhelm, isn’t it, you must believe.

He was asking for your undivided time and attention. You were his woman and that was such a privilege. Remember when a few times you did meekly voice your discomfort, and he said you were just overreacting. Of course you were too sensitive and sentimental like most women are, or maybe it was ‘that time of the month’; definitely your emotions had become faulty and so inconsequential. You were making a mountain out of a mole-hill; women must have the patience and tolerance like Mother Earth.

Remember the flowers followed by the apologies? He was just following the blue-print of a perfect romance. You must have surely provoked him, otherwise he was a good man, the man you so loved. He never hit you, only said a few rude words now and then, or just denied conversations and sex.

Remember how your priorities changed? But then that is what women are supposed to do, right? He should always come first, even before you for you; you did learn a new way of love, erasing yourself.

You liked what he liked, disliked what he disliked and yet you couldn’t make him happy. Didn’t anyone tell you, boys will be boys? Why couldn’t you just let him be and continue loving him unconditionally?

Dear Woman, women must not have too much self-respect dear, or it becomes ego, there is one valid ego in this world the male one.

Now though I and any sane woman would advise you against it, here I give you an excerpt from my personal feminist manifesto, but follow it at your own risk, your love is at the stake.

·   Learn more about intimate partner violence. (You know it is fashionable to talk about cycle of violence.)

·  If you suspect that another woman around you is being abused, show concern, listen, show her my letter. (But how can one powerless woman help another?)

·  Speak in hushed tones about the abuse and the abusers but never ever interfere, it is their ‘personal matter’. Also why bother when he can most probably get away with it.

·  Show your support but not at the risk your own abusive relationship.

·  Last resort- Call the police. (But beware that involves a lot of shamelessness.)

Last but not the least stay safe and never wash dirty linen in public.

Remain a good Indian girl always like your mother and her mother before her (Watch Mother India once a week) and be a role model for your sisters and daughters.

We must all get married and stay married, at any cost.

Yours truly

Pseudo-feminist agony auntie

Image : Google Images

(Disclaimer: The author recognizes EMOTIONAL ABUSE as a serious act of violence in intimate relationships. The views/opinions expressed are in a sarcastic vein and are meant to highlight the ironical perceptions about abuse in the society we live.If this letter makes your angry, it has succeeded in its purpose.)

Must read a copy of Meena Kandasamy’s new book, When I Hit Youhttp://bit.ly/Meenabk2 because the conspiracy of silence around domestic abuse labeling it as a personal matter,must be broken, because one story is many stories.

A - Atwood Margaret (Inspirational Writers) #AtoZBloggingChallenge2017

“I would like to be the air that inhabits you for a moment only. I would like to be that unnoticed and that necessary.” 

- Margaret Atwood 

Margaret Atwood
Courtesy : Google Images

A handmaid's tale 
surfacing
in an 
eco-feminist trance
The writer, 
the woman,
the nuance !

Here is a list of all the current #AtoZChallenge Posts