Earthquake

Eyelids shut

dreams and tears

share the same home

her rebel soul

exiled for life

in a body 

throbbing in pain

The water runs down 

the contours of her form

she stands still

like the nude woman 

in the fountain

and lets time 

dissolve 

her

drop by drop

hoping for

an earthquake.

W - Women & Mental Health #AtoZ #MentalHealthAwareness

Mental ill health among women is on the rise. One in five women (19%) experience a Common Mental Disorder (such as anxiety or depression), compared with one in eight (12%) men.

Mental disorders can affect women and men differently. Women are more likely to have mental health problems than men, with young women at particularly high risk. Some disorders are more common in women such as depression and anxiety. There are also certain types of depression that are unique to women. Some women may experience symptoms of mental disorders at times of hormone change, such as perinatal depression, premenstrual dysphoric disorder, and perimenopause-related depression.

The origins of much of the pain and suffering particular to women can be traced to the social circumstances of many women's lives. Depression, hopelessness, exhaustion, anger and fear grow out of hunger, overwork, domestic and civil violence, entrapment and economic dependence. Understanding the sources of ill health for women means understanding how cultural and economic forces interact to undermine their social status.

Women tend to experience mental illness slightly differently than men. Specifically, women are more prone to internalizing mental illnesses such as depression and anxiety, while men are more prone to externalizing mental illnesses such as drug abuse, alcoholism, and antisocial behaviors. An internalizing mental illness is one which causes a person to turn inward. It often leads to withdrawal, ruminating, loneliness, and feelings of sadness. Women who find themselves retreating from life and internalizing their emotions should consider the possibility of a mental illness when this sign is combined with other factors.

Some women specific mental health issues include Post-partum depression.  Having a baby can be an exciting time in a couple’s lives. However, the process can also trigger some mental health concerns. Aside from experiencing postpartum complications, such as depression, anxiety, or birth trauma, there are also experiences with infertility, pregnancy loss and reproductive complications (PCOS, endometriosis, etc.) that can crop up during this stage of life. Postpartum depression may occur in women who have a history of depression, anxiety or trauma.

Women in poverty are more likely to face poor mental health, with 29% of women in poverty experiencing a common mental health disorder compared to 16% of women not in poverty. Women in poverty who have experienced abuse are even more likely to experience poor mental health.

Females are generally more predisposed to hormonal fluctuations as well. Biological differences alone can prove key to the development of some mental health issues.

Men and women still have different levels of control over the determinants of mental health such as access to resources, status, roles, options and treatments. As such, gender is important in defining susceptibility and exposure to a number of mental health risks. Gender can also explain differences in mental health outcomes.

DISCLAIMER: All the information being provided her has been sourced from the internet and books and some also via personal experiences. It has no medical authentication per se so suggestions if followed must be done in consultation with a trained mental health professional.

References:

https://genomind.com/8-common-mental-health-issues-affecting-young-women/

https://weareagenda.org/womens-mental-health-key-facts/

This post is a part of April Blogging from A To Z Challenge

You can find all my posts here.

The Cosmic Woman

stranded in herself

her soul tugs at

the invisible gyve

the light

at the end of the tunnel

distant, cold,white

a planet chained

to its orbit

the indifferent cosmos

has forgotten her

between eclipses

and glares

her craters ache

for a pause

and some respite.

Beauty

Representational image from Google Images

“Sometimes people are beautiful.
Not in looks.
Not in what they say.
Just in what they are.”

― Markus Zusak

She is a team leader

but works mostly from home

She dotes on her daughter

but sometimes misses school events

She talks so much sense

In Skype meetings

If you ignore her bad hair

And the scattered things

She has the most generous smile

and almost instant empathy

she posts inspiring quotes

and never complains about a thing

besides these she looks after

a spouse bedridden

and hopes for better things

She is beauty personified

And in the face of life’s hurdles

She never forgets to sing.

I believe every woman has TRUE BEAUTY within her in all the roles she plays. For over 18 years across 650 plus salons across the country, Naturals has been helping the Beautiful Indian Woman get more Beautiful.

Today Naturals Salutes the Beautiful Indian Woman.


Presenting Naturals TRUE BEAUTY… http://bit.ly/naturalsOF

(I write about several women who are caregivers, sole breadwinners and more for their families.)

The Body of a Woman

I tell my toes to let go

of the circles they drew in sand

across several beaches

and the soles to remember

the sinking as the waves

withdrew their love

I tell my legs to let go

all memories of the difficult walks

the calves to remember 

the fatigues of love

and the thighs the longing 

to relax and spread

without fear or shame

I tell the vagina

to let go of the cliches

and know its name

to remember the pleasures

and the pain

and own the mystery

of the feminine mytsique

I tell the belly

to let go of the hungers

of the body and soul

and remember the stretch marks

are medals of honour

from time and sometimes motherhood

very few in the world have the privilge

of being home to another

I tell the breasts

to let go of fears, of stares

and remember only the caresses

of a lover's gaze

or that fuzzy feeling

of being a woman, whenever

someone seeks your warmth and comfort

I tell the heart

to let go the beating

when life gets too much

and remember those that fight all life

also have a right to fall

to go quiet in their invisibility

and not complain at all

I tell the lips

to let go of words, mere words

and instead remember to have a voice

that will say each word

as the heart prompts 

and whenever say LOVE mean it

I tell the eyes to let go

dust and roughness of time

and wash yourself regularly

with your secret saline waterfalls

to see the smiles in other eyes

and to close the lids

self-hypnotize

I tell the mind

(if its still there)

to let go of control

and listen to these individuals 

that give it the throne

and remember that the soul must go

onward to never return.

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

Suns and Lovers

Fathers, husbands

brothers ,cousins

uncles, granddads

sons or grandson

Men are a part of 

every story

of women

'Suns and lovers'

Moons and friends

and yet there is

that clenched fist

any of them

could be a misogynist !

This post is part of a #blogathon here at BAR.

Anatomy of Abuse #ALetterToHer

The vase he threw

was not to express

his anger or frustration

my dear girl, it was

- Intimidation

the hollow apology

was not to undo the harm

but dear naive girl, it was

- Manipulation

the counting of 

your "inadequacies" 

was not to improve you

but - Humiliation

the keeping you away

the don't go anywhere, stay

was not to protect you

it was subtle Isolation

the threats of harm

to self and/you

to frighten and terrorize,

the loud voice and 

sometimes the silence

the gaze, the body language

to coerce and threaten

Dear blinded in love

remove the tinted glasses

and see it as it were

a cycle of abuse

the silence before 
the eye of the storm
and the honeymoon

over and over
in a vicious gyre
Dear girl
Inhale strength

Spit fire.

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

#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.

The woman who used to be #ALetterToHer

The first push 

was accidental

she presumed

the wife jokes

becoming nastier

the controlling

the belittling

was just foul mood

gradually the definitions 

were altered

silence was the price

for peace

love was a noose

a prison 

with no release

"his good heart

was never filled

with malicious intent"

she chanted

the constant

walking on egg shells

and shards of self

the bruises

the best makeup

could not conceal

the flowers and

chocolates

the vacations and gifts

just masks

the nice man

she provoked

the marriage 

she couldn't sustain

the numbness

the scars

somewhere inside

she could not see

and the woman

she became

from the 

woman she 

used to be.

Meena Kandasamy's When I Hit You is a chronicle of an abusive marriage and a celebration of the invincible power of art. It must be read because it breaks the silence surrounding the violence in a traditional wedlock in modern India.

Q - Qabbani Nizar (Inspirational writers) #AtoZChallenge

“The female doesn’t want a rich man or a handsome man or even a poet, she wants a man who understands her eyes if she gets sad, and points to his chest and say : 'Here is your home country.” 

― Nizar Qabbani

Image courtesy : Google Images


Hearts are

the worst

disputed territories

the war

never ends.

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

Love Song of a Broken Woman

Muses are not always

Greek goddesses

Stories often lack

mythical significance

The chaotic noises

in a troubled mind

And the hole in the chest

Carved where once

blood pumped feelings

Are a broken soul's tavern

Tired is the only

Universal feeling

Of making up, making out

Breaking in ,breaking out

Breakdown

Fallen in love

Icarus or Lucifer

Just a woman

In an eternal fall

Shards of careless words

Peel the remains of love

From a carcass called body

And then the master stroke

Silence - to drive the knife home

And twist it to the last.

NAVRATRI SNAPSHOTS 2015



•  A 40 years old, mother of two teenagers is distributing ice-cream sticks on the road near her apartment complex to street children. Some of them pre-teen and teenage boys, soon she is being pulled and groped and loud whistles and leering and she runs back inside the gated residential complex. The misguided kids enjoy the free ice-cream, aunty goes back to her condo, runs a hot bath and all that remains of the incident are the wrappers piled on the footpath.
  When we let go of any incidents as minor incidents of street harassment, don’t we pave way for far more dire incidents?
  What makes our boys believe they are entitled to rowdy behaviour ?Is our "Charity" misguided?

•  I am watching news, my little one who is unaware of the technical gross details of sexual violence and RAPE, knows the word and knows that it is a cruel and bad thing to do to anyone. She stops colouring and after overhearing bits and pieces of a debate over the rape of two minors, she asks, "Mumma why do people hate and hurt little girls , so much? " I have no convincing answers.

• In a neighbourhood Kirtan, almost every other song or line has the word "laal" (red), traditionally the colour for married women ( Saubhagyavatis), those singing these lines loudest are widowed mothers, sisters and wives , sitting in a corner away from the deity, the inauspicious women.

• Not far from the Indian capital two little children are charred to death because they were not fortunate enough to be born upper caste, we look away and feel we have done our bit for the future kids of this country by distributing a few plates of poori-halwa.

•P : Mumma we Indians are generally brown you said , because of our genes and race and ,and climate.

Me: Yes dear.

P: Then why are all the goddesses fair, other than Kaali?

Me: ahmm....

P: and why don't they make Kaali beautiful? If a woman becomes angry does she become ugly?

I have taken some time from her to answer these difficult questions.

MY VOICE IS MY FEMINISM

It took me a while
to come to this space
where I am no longer
scared or awkward

to restrain the man's hand
trying to grope a girl
on a bus

to protest loudly
when I hear men
use abuses
that are women-centric

to tell every girl I meet
that she doesn't have to hide
her body or her mind

to confront men
related to me
by blood or society
if they abuse or discriminate

to use my word
and my writings
to catalogue
the lessons and the fight

so however little it may be
a small speck in this
struggle of enormity

my voice is my pay forward
to my mum
her mum's mum
my daughter's future daughter
and all women everywhere

This is my sword and my shield
my defence and my attack
and I will break
the conspiracy of silence.

This post is dedicated to an inspiring fellow blogger popularly known as IHM who blogs at THE LIFE AND TIMES OF AN INDIAN HOMEMAKER. Her work and her personality as reflected in her work inspire me as a blogger, as a mom and as a woman.

A WOMAN AS WONDERFUL AS HER WORK

A government official's speech on his book launch begins with his recollection of his humble childhood who aspired to be someone big. He narrates a few incidents about his hard work  to change the fortunes of his unlettered parents, and then he calls her to the stage- the lady he has dedicated his book to-his school teacher. Her salt pepper hair, through which her small studs peek ,her simple yet elegant cotton salwar-kameez and her smile that reaches her eyes are all memorable.

She never had access to a fancy education and could barely finish her Junior basic teacher's training course before she was married off at 20 without even her formal consent.

Born at the wake of independence in a small hilly village this girl struggled to go to school like her two elder brothers and while they went to the local missionary school and she had to be content with the village government school, 2 kms away.

She started working as a teacher only after her marriage but financial independence did not take away any of the social stigma attached with not having a child soon after marriage.

The child happened 14 years later but throughout she loved her students and her work devotedly, it was her solace, her strength and she was the light of hope for many of her students. She worked as if IT REALLY MADE A DIFFERENCE to the young girls she taught and their families. The kids in school, according to her needed her more, because they came from families with almost no resources and no inclination to send their girls to school. 

There were ugly scenes with families and a couple of times with the police as well to prevent child marriages and allow girls to study further if they so willed. 

Her husband had a good job for a comfortable life even without her salary but she wanted to work- for herself, and more importantly for her belief that a teacher could ignite minds and souls like no one else ever could.

Now she works with several NGOs. Her age does not prevent her from still giving it her all. Her husband and daughter now understand, love and respect her even more for bringing beauty to her work.

Often we keep looking out for inspiration, from biographies of great people, from a biopic about a legend and in the process fail to look at the stellar lives lived by people closer home. These commoners do not have awards on their mantelpiece or public acclaim but their stories are stories of grit, passion and love for their work. It is difficult to look at your own from a distance and narrate their story objectively, but today I have tried.

I am proud that this amazing lady in this story is my mom. It’s a tough call, a huge dilemma, which is more beautiful, my mom or her work.

This post is part of a contest at Women's Web and Mia Tanishq.

SHADOW

They say my gender

is a shade of shadow

on me,on them

and on that evasive ‘honor’

but I believe

my essence as a woman

is a ray of sunshine

that pierces through

their age old mindsets

the real dark shade

of exploitative shadows !

This scribble won a book give away here.

A ROOM OF ONE'S OWN

"We do not claim any space

we do not own any

the power is theirs

ours is the

decorating of the space

with care and romance"

a thousand years of

my mother's mother's obligation

has me tied

the greed for my space

buried in deep confusion

promising more each day

to everything

more than I can humanly fulfill

I weave the background

with bleeding fingers

and an injured soul

for them to run the show

and bask in the applause

Dear Virginia

you were so right

about that "room of one's own"

not the kitchen where

the memory of a burnt cake lingers

not the bedroom

where no matter how great

me would always be

a part of the huge"us"

not the living room

with the smells and echoes

of so many thoughts

This then is that room

this white space of mine

waiting for my words

the blinking cursor

beating like my

eager heart

to pour my soul out !

HAPPY WOMEN'S DAY

Say it to the female fetuses
you have shoved
down the drain
of your stinking desire
to have a male heir

say it to little girls
you denied food,education
and equality

say it to women
traumatized, brutalized
raped and killed
or silenced to
bear the agony
over and over again

say it to the women
you consider
just objects
lesser than you
in all respects

or best
say it to those women
your foot soldiers helping you
in maintaining status quo

come on Patriarchy
lets celebrate
your victims
whose resilience,even for you
is hard to let slide !

"I do not wish women to have power over men, but over themselves."  ~Mary Wollstonecraft
WOMEN'S WEB CONTEST