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Allow her...let her... Enough of such language that pleads. Women, rise up your arms and reach for the sky. Dare to reach beyond what you think you can!
Allow her…let her… Enough of such language that pleads. Women, rise up your arms and reach for the sky. Dare to reach beyond what you think you can!
Am I asking for too much? Is it too difficult to accept the fact that a woman should live her life in her own terms? Is it not doable that she makes her own choices and everyone accepts it with much needed poise and dignity?
No, I am not even talking here about the big things in life you see. I am trying to tap the mundane, just the basic, something that is routine, her right. Is that still very difficult?
The bare, naked truth is, it is difficult. Difficult not in one, but on various levels. ‘Allowing’ women to have their way is a farce, an illusion that we all live with. Let’s face it.
Where do I possibly begin? Because as I write this, everywhere around me, I just see women who are being pinned down for their choices. What they want to study, where they want to study, and topping it all if at all they should study? Yes, you heard it right. And then, what she wears and why she wears what she wears. And then whom she loves and why does she love. If she is working, then why is she working? And, if she isn’t, then why isn’t she working. And then it’s kind of deluge after marriage – if she is breathing, why is she breathing, at all?? Huh….
When a girl is born, she is born with some choices. She has every right to make it work in her own way, on her own terms. We all are masters of our own destinies. Building it bit by bit and hiking in their way of life. Why do we need to prove ourselves at every single point? We don’t. And we shouldn’t in fact.
Why do we always need permission to make our choices? Or should I say why we should anyone seek permission at all? Again an emphatic NO. Why are we judged for being what we are? Isn’t it that every individual has the right to live the way they want? Why we are answerable for the path we choose to walk on? We shouldn’t answer any such questions!
What we should actually do is walk the path that paves the way for the others too. Light a lamp of hope, I call it. Why has sacrifice, compromise, and making adjustments at the cost of our self esteem and self respect become a way? Again… Stand up, don’t let this happen. Live and love for yourself, before you do it for anyone else.
It is a conditioned society that we live in. Why this conditioning is so pervasive for women, always? Why squash all her dreams and aspiration under the burden of norms and rules? It is an undeniable fact that women form the basic fulcrum of the society. Or should I say the universe, the mere mankind. She is the birth giver, the nurturer. And sadly, the one who gives you life is not allowed to live. Several are there who die every moment. They are crucified under the pretext of ‘false manhood’. They are lynched because they are ‘thinkers’. They are ripped for being “outrageous”, and they are murdered for just ‘living’. I say, think, act, be different, cut the norms and live.
Breathe, and breathe fearlessly you girl. Dance, and dance like noone is watching you. Sing, and sing as if that’s the last song of your life. Walk, and walk chin up like a tigress does, and dream, dream as if that was what you were born for. All you wonders out there… aspire. Inspire. Find your own unbound happiness, and turn your world around. Don’t extinguish the fire within, and win world with your unflinching determination and might.
Dare to live, dare to love, dare to reach where no one else has. Dare and do, you are born for this!
Image source: pixabay
An avid reader, a blogger, a book reviewer, a freelancer writer and an aspiring author. She has an opinion about everything around. And through her writings she reaches out to the world. A mother of read more...
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As he stood in front of his door, Nishant prayed that his wife would be in a better mood. The baby thing was tearing them apart. When was the last time he had seen his wife smile?
Veena got into the lift. It was a festival day, and the space was crammed with little children dressed in bright yellow clothes, wearing fancy peacock feather crowns, and carrying flutes. Janmashtami gave her the jitters. She kept her face down, refusing to socialize with anyone.
They had moved to this new apartment three months ago. The whole point of shifting had been to get away from the ruthless questioning by ‘well-wishers’.
“You have been married for ten years! Why no child yet?”
I huffed, puffed and panted up the hill, taking many rest breaks along the way. My calf muscles pained, my heart protested, and my breathing became heavy at one stage.
“Let’s turn back,” my husband remarked. We stood at the foot of Shravanbelagola – one of the most revered Jain pilgrimage centres. “We will not climb the hill,” he continued.
My husband and I were vacationing in Karnataka. It was the month of May, and even at the early hour of 8 am in the morning, the sun scorched our backs. After visiting Bangalore and Mysore, we had made a planned stop at this holy site in the Southern part of the state en route to Hosur. Even while planning our vacation, my husband was very excited at the prospect of visiting this place and the 18 m high statue of Lord Gometeshwara, considered one of the world’s tallest free-standing monolithic statues.
What we hadn’t bargained for was there would be 1001 granite steps that needed to be climbed to have a close-up view of this colossal magic three thousand feet above sea level on a hilltop. It would be an understatement to term it as an arduous climb.
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