Friday, 18 July 2014


This is going to be a short piece about sexism for a dear friend and blogger-Vishal.

The link to that post is here:

How ingrained it is in us..How we are brought up along side it but we rarely reflect unless we are forced look in that direction.

This is not going to be a bra burning piece,just for the record,I am all for it,for the fun of pyrotechnics but I respect those who choose to do that as a form of protest.

The problem is that patriarchy and sexism are so inherent in our "great" country that people have forgotten that being ogled at -or the attitude of boys will be boys,that is how the society is,behave this way because you are a girl- is beyond abysmal.

Women do not understand that we are not objects to be ogled at,we are not meant to be toys or a piece of property,we are as much an individual as the next dude with different and "super" set of genitals.

There is something known as equality and we have completely lost sense of it.
Boys flashing their dirty underwear label is a "dude" but a girl's accidental or even if it is deliberate like the former is tagged as slutty.

Boys can step outside at odd hours and if they misbehave,they are being boys but heaven forbid if a girl steps out late at night-she is asking for it.

We need a change,this is not about being a rebel sans a cause.
It is just about bringing children up better with better ideals-they need to learn to recognise sexism when it happens.

People just do not understand. We are crass and uneducated by any and all standards-for we do not understand simple concepts like patriarchy,sexism and inequality between genders.

It is is not always in your face,sons are better than daughters but it is sinister and insidious it is an attitude that is drilled into girls while they are being raised. It might not necessarily say that you are lesser than the boys but learning the feeling of being ashamed. Shamed for being a girl,shamed for having certain boy parts,shamed for doing certain things,just plain shame.

People need to be taught-men and women-that there is something known as equality of genders and most importantly,there is a need to make people learn that their "culture" or "norms" are not to be imposed on everyone. Their yardstick of judgement should stick to themselves and no one else. Also girls are individuals,they have nothing to do with family's honour,the honour belongs to the girl and no one else.Women are individuals and not properties.


She sat down with her broken pieces and cried.
She realised that it was all over long before it has actually started.
When you play and confer with the devil for so long,it is not long before it comes knocking at your door.


The murder was an accident that brought her immense pleasure and glee.
It was a simple pitch and toss,deemed an accident.
She was free from the clasps of the man who ravaged her every other day.
It is easy to pass it off as an accident when one is adjudged as a drunkard.

Ah,alcohol,as the beaded drops condensed on the shoot-less champagne glass,she seemed in a zone.
She woke up in a daze and got up and started rummaging through her drawers- Need to find a duvet.

Life was easy here. Incarcerated with her consent,she was doing well.
It was disturbing at times but she was finally at peace and safe.
The enactment of that night brought her a sheer rush of adrenaline.
Guilt,drained her at times when she remembered his tender moments but they were always followed by beatings and cuts; She enjoyed the intimacy and this brought out the demon forth from him,for he thought her promiscuous for she enjoyed.

She wanted to be free. She was not free. Finally she was,free in her incarceration,she was free to pursue her love for self.

The night as it happened,was simple. It was the simplest tale in the world.
He came through,she laced his wine with Nitro and Viagra-he was aware of the former.

They made love that night,slowly,languidly-she made no sound,moved not a muscle-lest he starts beating her.
In pain,she tensed up as he increased his bunny hop.
He crumbled right on top of her as he clutched his chest. Right on cue,she screamed.
Cried and called the Emergency number.

Then she started the act-she thrust herself onto him and thrust until content-the noise would at first be thought of the grieving wife and not necrophilia.

The paramedics found no trace of that glass for it had been replaced by a glass that the dear hubby had used at dinner.
She was questioned and let off.
Within a week,the jig was up for Nitro was found in his cadaver.

She confessed,before the glass shards were found in the trash,because she was unable to live without his love.


She was at peace here. But he was not here.
She felt pain in her veins as she injected herself with a drug cocktail. A prickling feeling raced through her body.
Then the excruciating pain started,she screamed but stopped and had a seizure.
She was found in a pool of her vomit after having drowned in it.

Revenge,revenge,thou art a lesson-Like the poisoned chalice,revenge had come back to haunt her.