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Showing posts with label women. Show all posts
Showing posts with label women. Show all posts

Thursday, September 9, 2021

You, me and ...... maybe you



Your hands trace the contours

I smile

You softly let your fingers scroll

on my warm skin

I smell green apples

what is it?

Your perfume or incense?


In the quiet

I can hear your heartbeat

and you can touch mine.

Each scar, each mark,

has a tale to tell!

you gently brush

a stray strand of hair

from my face

tuck it behind my ear

and trace

a gushing stream of cold water

down my neck,

I release my stiff shoulders

my breast bone loosens

the binoculars of my heart

read every line in your palm!




In a small salon

two women

share their stories

without a word

and give each other

the gift of empathy.




Woman in Spa






“This post is a part of ‘UMeU’ Poetry Blog Hop #UMeUBlogHop organized by Manas Mukul . The Event is sponsored by Soul Craft and You, Me & The Universe.”



Friday, April 26, 2019

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:



This post is a part of April Blogging from A To Z Challenge
You can find all my posts here.




Tuesday, March 12, 2019

A crucifix I carry I call it home!



A crucifix 
sometimes has a roof and walls
windows with latches
doors with holdfasts

it is a monster
changing forms
like a leech
fangs deep into the skin

it demands and demands
cleaning,chopping,dusting
boiling,grating,cooking
locks,keys,bulbs,soaps
candles and matches

it is hungry
it is angry
sucks hope from the marrows
you dump and dump
exhaustion and hurt
till your heart stinks
ready to burst


the aches and pains
the monster's love bites
all over body and soul
always wanting
more, more,more


I looked for synonyms
to make it sound better
residence, abode, household
A crucifix I carry
I call it home!

Saturday, May 12, 2018

Period Pride with Papa

I grew up in small town India in the 80s, and in the 90s during my teenage years PERIODS was considered one of the dirtiest words ever. There were horrendous incidents of my friends spotting their school skirts and then walking (yes walking, we lived in a hill station) with great difficulty to home covering the spot with a sweater or a blazer, the school’s small infirmary didn’t have any ready to use sanitary pads back then and most mothers and older sisters still living in their time wrap to even talk about it. At homes those four-five days meant isolation and untouchability (girls were considered impure during periods.)



I was almost 13 plus and awaiting my periods to begin still when my father (yes you read it right) my father- papa sat me down to talk to me about periods. He first asked me what I knew about my body and anatomy and the changes happening to me as a young girl. I told him my sketchy know-how garnered from biology chapters and library books and even a sanitary pad company sponsored workshop in school about periods but I also told him about my fears about periods and how most of my friends use what they called “rough cloth” and how it kept them discomforted those 4-5 days.






He talked to me in a very technical and non- evasive way about periods, asked me what I would prefer using the new belted sanitary napkins that were the norm then or we can make our own disposable ones using cotton gauze and cotton, because he didn’t want me to use “rough cloth” like the other girls.






I loved making things with my engineer dad so I said okay let’s make our own, and that’s how I was taught to made my first disposable cotton gauze sanitary napkins by my father. A few months later I also got used to sometimes using the commercial ones and then came another major hurdle- I had a major leg surgery for which one of my full legs was in plaster. Two days later I got my periods. Lying straight in a bed with a wet pad wasn’t a good feeling at all, that’s when my father in the pre-internet days did some research and found about tampons. He bought me some and not only advised me to use those but helped me change them too, I was 15.







That one parent-child moment changed my perception of body image, sexuality, menstruation and gender forever. I passed on my new-found knowledge, confidence and ease about periods to many friends though both me and my father got labelled as "strange" as a result most of the time.



Ever since I was always eloquent about menstruation awareness and related issues and now that my father is no more and I am myself a parent to a pre-teen girl I realize in that one moment my father gave me that voice and that confidence.






He never allowed anyone in the family including my religious mother to put any menstruation related restrictions on me regarding going to the temple/kitchen in the house or touching the pickle. I could tell him I am having menstrual cramps and he would make the best hot chocolate ever and give me a hot water bag to place on my tummy.








Yes I was so blessed to have such an evolved parent who moved beyond the pre-defined boundaries of "masculinity", fatherhood and motherhood and dis all he could to raise a strong, confident, feminist-humanist who is committed for life to keep using her voice and agency to pass on the favor to as many young girls as I can.


My late father with my daughter




Kadam Chhota, Change Bada!


Every change begins with a small step, whether it’s a change within your family, or the whole country!

On 11th May, is the digital premiere of India’s Hero, Padman, on ZEE5. Don’t miss this inspiring true-life story, only on ZEE5. Download the app and subscribe now. For every subscription, ZEE5 will donate Rs. 5 towards the personal hygiene needs of underprivileged women.







Monday, February 19, 2018

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.


Friday, October 20, 2017

The Women & The Buddhas of Bamiyan



The tanks called tradition
fired and fired first
next the artillery shells 
of Culture
causing scars
with its anger

the prisoners,victims once 
turned oppressors
then carried "family "
and truckloads of
love - the deadliest 
explosive to teach
the rebels to shut up


from the holy towers
of motherhood & matrimony
the rebel "idols" detonated
the killing of her "me"
self-respect in smoke
identity in burnt gunpowder
resonated

but lo and behold
as the smoke and dust settled
it was clear 
only her legs had been crippled
there she still stood
with her head held high
on her injured shoulders

fresh dynamite called
defamation was brought
and in holes as deep 
as sexual violence
planted in her heart

the planned obliteration worked
and there it was
the hollow, where
once she was

Rubble
reduced to dust
The Bamiyan Buddha
and the broken woman's trust ! 


This poem was inspired by this article : http://www.bbc.com/news/world-asia-31813681




Thursday, September 28, 2017

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




Wednesday, September 20, 2017

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

Friday, September 8, 2017

Warrior Women





The fragile-brave woman
who refuses
to kill
an unborn girl
and stands by 
her daughters
through every storm

the little girl
who insists
"education"
in the face of
a terror regime
and a gun to her head

the young woman
who speaks
periods, breasts
and abuse
without the shackle of 
honor, 
fear or shame

the survivor
who battles a 
crime
violence or a
fatal disease
but doesn't compromise
her mind,voice or name

the old woman
who lets go
of centuries of do's & don'ts 
and stands with the girls
against the men

warriors all
in words, thoughts
and essence !
All Warrior Women !





This post is for a Blogathon titled WARRIOR WOMEN here @ Women's Web

When a Greek pirate ship sails in to loot the wealth of the Cholas, it is brutally defeated by the navy and forced to pay a compensation. A payment that includes a twelve-year-old girl, Aremis. Check out this new historical novel Empire (
http://bit.ly/DeviEmpire) with a warrior woman, Aremis at the heart of the novel.

Sunday, September 3, 2017

The Author as a Sculptor



Your skillful male hands
knead the mud
to shape me
as you may
in a set mould
of humble clay

since centuries
the same cast,
a million women
repeat and relive
a future of past

broad forehead
to bring you 
lines of fortune

lotus-eyes to bring 
compassion and wrath, 
or when you say
doom- doom !

only love 
and endearment
her lips allowed 
to smile and sing

the tongue that drinks
your adversary's blood
and never utters
a single word

the perfect curves
to be the mother
in her endless womb
your dreams to nurture

the thighs strong
to bear you sons
fight your wars
defeat your demons

the embellishments, perfect all
to show your prosperity
and the burial in water
the final downfall

the ritual carving
of a mortal mother
every year
you dear man
her author
her sculptor !

Tuesday, August 29, 2017

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

Sunday, June 25, 2017

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.

Wednesday, June 21, 2017

Of Ice and Men




Image:Google Images




He rubbed her wrong
and you looked away
She body shamed her
and not a word to say

 the sexist jokes
and the street harassment
the discrimination
fear and embarrassment

you remained aloof
and closed your eyes
patriarchal men
as cold as ice.

This post is part of a #blogathon at BAR.

Monday, June 19, 2017

Life of Pie





Image : Google Images



If there was ever a pie chart
of things people say to women
that cause grievous hurt

What all do you think 
would figure in there?
Do you think
that they even care?

How sexual violence
uses victim blaming as a tool?
How something as sweet as pie
can turn into a weapon cruel?

This post is part of a #blogathon at BAR

Keywords

2019 April Blogging challenge B-A-R BOY Blogarhythm Book Review Buddha December GADGETS HAIKU Hamlet Rumi Ruskin Bond Sexism Stream of consciousness Womensweb answers anxiety apathy barathon birthday blog blogathon books breasts brothers bullying cartoons chandigarh child childhood children cities colour compassion contest cosmos culture dad daughter de death death loneliness alone delhi depression desire devi discrimination disorder diwali domestic violence dreams emily emotional abuse eyes facebook fairytale family fear feminism festival film fire first flash fiction fog freedom freeze frenemy friends games gender gender ratio girls god grandfather grandmother grief happy heart hills hindi home hope husband independence day indiblogger internet jagjit singh kashmir kerouac kids lessons life life lessons light loneliness lonely longing loss love lover marriage me memories memories men menstruation mental health mind miss mom mom dad mother mother's day motherhood mythology nest new year nobody nostalgia pain pakistan panjab university papa paradoxes patriarchy periods poem poet poetry priyamvada questions random thoughts rape relationships religion remember rickshaw ritual sad sex sexual harassment sexual harrasment shimla short story silence social media soul sufi suicide summers taboo time toddlers tradition tragedy twitter valentine violence voice war winter woman women women's day words. thoughts words.thoughts worry worship writer writing yatra yeats zen zen. बेटी माँ

COMPANIONS CALLED BOOKS

To Kill a Mockingbird
The Catcher in the Rye
Animal Farm
The Alchemist
One Hundred Years of Solitude
Romeo and Juliet
Frankenstein
The Odyssey
The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn
The Count of Monte Cristo
Eat, Pray, Love
Lolita
The Da Vinci Code
The Kite Runner
The Silence of the Lambs
The Diary of a Young Girl
Pride and Prejudice
Jane Eyre
The Notebook
Gone With the Wind
}

The Human Bean Cafe, Ontario

The Human Bean Cafe, Ontario
my work on display there !!!!!