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The simple act of walking on the streets reminds us that we are not truly free. Here's a take on the freedom to walk.
The simple act of walking on the streets reminds us that we are not truly free. Here’s a take on the freedom to walk.
The #FreedomIs campaign asked readers to share their idea of what freedom is, and what freedoms they wanted, through a selfie with a message. The results were varied and beautiful. You can see the collection of #FreedomIs selfies here. Don’t forget to send in your own!
I am a big believer in freedom – all kinds of freedom. It can be to eat, drink, dress, to choose your lifestyle, partner, religion etc, The list is endless. If it makes you happy, you do it! It is freedom for you. Live and let live. I was shaken from this so called freedom of mine when I discovered that like so many other things in our country, this freedom too, is misleading.
I was walking on the posh walking plaza near my house last week. I do it occasionally; I am not a regular walker and that is my freedom – to walk whenever I want to, at whatever time I want to, and whereever I want to.
I am on the verge of 40 and nowhere close to the “Yummy Mummy” that the media wants us mummies to become. While I am out for my walk, I am the opposite – overweight, unruly hair, sweaty, and maybe just about pretty average to look at. As I tried to get into the rhythm of my walk, hoping to shed my lethargy and a couple of kilos with my brisk walkimg, I realised a few truths
You go the hospital, an orderly or clerk will accost you in a corner. You go to the mall, the watchman will act funny. The lift man tries to be too friendly. The place could be an office, school, market, tailor-shop, swimming pool (god forbid it is a public pool), ration shop, movie hall, a bus or train, or the endless places where a lady might need to go.
Where is the freedom if I cannot walk freely in my own neighbourhood? Where is the freedom if I fear abuse and rape at every step I take? Where is the freedom if I cannot dress as I please? Where is the freedom if men cannot respect our choices?
For me, #FreedomIs walking free.
Pic credit: HowardIgnatius (Used under a CC license)
Inderpreet Kaur Uppal is a freelance author, editor and writer for fiction and nonfiction based in New Delhi, India. A post-graduate lecturer in Human Resources Management, Corporate Communications, Training and Development and Organizational Behaviour read more...
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"I chose to go out into the remote, wild, unknown, and make it home," says entrepreneur Kiranjeet Ahluwalia Chaturvedi, who owns Birdsong & Beyond.
The story of my mountain home Birdsong & Beyond started taking shape in 2009, on the internet, the way many stories do these days.
My childhood fascination for a life in the Himalayas led to an internship with a central Himalayan NGO instead of a much prized corporate assignment. But when they offered me a full-time job, I refused. I was overcome by fear and a lack of confidence.
My other longings pulled me away – the longing to fit in, to earn validation from others. By my mid-30s, with all the trappings of a middle-class urban life in place, the call of the snows couldn’t be ignored anymore. So I got to work on it with clearer intentions and a stronger sense of what I needed for myself, and why.
Many Indian elderly are firm believers in enslaving a daughter-in-law in the name of tradition which is actually a tradition of oppression and not of religious faith.
Albeit, the popular culture has interpreted scriptures as suggesting that Kanyadaan is the supreme form of donation given to someone, the connotation that the word donation alludes to definitely objectifies the girl.
Even when the exegesis justify the act of giving away the daughter, considering it a ritual to mark the initiation of the daughter into her husband’s gotra and her becoming the part of his family tree.
There is no denial of the fact that this initiation is not required on the part of the groom thereby formally denoting the end of the filial ties with the daughter as it was popularly instructed to the bride during the Vidai ceremonies:
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