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Who am I? I am many things, and all things possible, says this lovely poem on the self.
https://www.flickr.com/photos/13514463@N06/11409024824
One of the top 5 entries for August’s Muse of the Month writing theme, with the cue “I took a deep breath and listened to the old brag of my heart. I am, I am, I am”, taken from Sylvia Plath’s The Bell Jar.
When the moon peeps out
from behind grey clouds
creating hope on a dull night
I am darkness.
When an ink pen my lover gifted
our first year together
turns up once declared lost
I am fortunate.
When water splashes against
rocks as it makes its way down
hidden waterfall in the woods
I am sadness.
When I give up trying after
Eight years of giving it my all
the strip turns a deep red
I am living dead.
When sweat drips down my back
on a warm summer’s day
of heated arguments in the park
I am the light.
When your voice fails you
after vowing to never stay mute
unsaid is our only conversation
I am the words.
When an ice cream truck makes
a loud sound on its way around
with cheering kids chasing it
I am happiness.
When I watch her laugh without
worries, qualms or inhibitions
consumed by emotions
I am whole.
When an aeroplane takes flight
with it my heart in my mouth
cotton-candy clouds calm me down
I am at peace.
When fears envelope my thoughts
each night as I toss and turn in bed
Waiting for dawn to break
I am the nightmare.
When my imagination rewrites
reality in the way you hoped
and wished it would end
I am broken.
When everything makes me cry
I am the dream.
I take a deep breath
and calm my racing heart.
I am here,
a contradiction.
Everything and nothing
visible and invisible
the silence and the song.
Pic credit: Ley (Used under a Creative Commons license)
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People say that women are the greatest enemies of women. I vehemently disagree. It is the patriarchal mindset that makes women believe in the wrong ideology.
The entire world celebrates International Women’s Day on March 8, 2024. It should be a joyful day, but unfortunately, not all women are entitled to this privilege, as violence against women is at its peak. The experience of oppression pushes many women to choose freedom. As far as patriotism is concerned, feminism is not a cup of tea in this society.
What happens when a woman decides to stand up for herself? Does this world easily accept the decisions of women in this society? What inspires them to be free of the clutches of the oppression that women have faced for ages? Most of the time, women do not get the chance to decide for themselves. Their lives are always at the mercy of someone, which can be their parents, siblings, husband, or children.
In some cases, women do not feel the need to make any decisions. They are taught to obey the patriarchal system, which makes them believe that they are right. In my family, I was never taught to make decisions on my own. It was always my parents who bought dresses and all that I needed.
14 years after her last feature film Dhobi Ghat, storyteller extraordinaire comes up with her new film, Laapataa Ladies, a must watch.
*Some spoilers alert*
Every religion around the world dictates terms to women. The onus is always on women to be ‘modest’ and cover their faces and bodies so men can’t be “tempted”, rather than on men to keep their eyes where they belong and behave like civilized beings. So much so that even rape has been excused on the grounds of women eating chowmein or ‘men will be men’. I think the best Hindi movie retort to this unwanted advice on ‘akeli ladki khuli tijori ki tarah hoti hai’ (an alone woman is like an open jewellery box) came from Geet in Jab We Met – Kya aap gyan dene ke paise lete hain kyonki chillar nahin hain mere paas.
The premise of Laapataa Ladies is beautifully simple – two brides clad in the ghunghat that covers their identity get mixed up on a train. Within this Russian Doll, you get a comedy of errors, a story of getting lost, a commentary on patriarchy’s attitude towards women, a mystery, and a tale of finding oneself, all in one. Done with a mostly light touch that has you laughing and nodding along.
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