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Women's friendships are crucial to their lives - these often lift one up and sustain us in dark times. A touching personal account.
Women’s friendships are crucial to their lives – these often lift one up and sustain us in dark times. A touching personal account.
It felt like I was in an abyss, a dark and endless one at that. Like I had been held underwater for far too long while I struggled, fought, and kicked for a breath of fresh air. It was like being punched hard in the stomach, reeling with pain, gathering the courage to get up and being punched once again – a vicious cycle.
It’s easy to see that these were signs of grief and trauma. I was engulfed in sorrow and was slipping further and further into the pit of misery and despair. I had to make a move and change the situation I was in primarily because of my own actions. But to do so, I needed something. Not something monetary, but a push. Or perhaps a pull, a hand stretched out just far enough so as to assure me of its unwavering presence on the other end.
That’s when I wiped my eyes, looked around me, and realised the actual depth of my abyss. It was only as deep as I wanted it to be. I could see not one but several hands extended towards me, urging me to take that one step across to the other side.
These hands had been there all along. I hadn’t been able to see them clearly as the tears had blocked my view of what lay ahead of and around me. Those hands were signalling to me to cross over. It took boundless courage and strength but I did it. I took the plunge! I was free!
It was in these moments of suffering that I realised the magnitude of female friendships. If not for those outstretched hands, I probably would never have been able to do what I did.
Yes, I had to take that step all by myself. Yes, I had to keep moving each day. Yes, I had no idea what I would do tomorrow. But these women, these firebrands, had shown me what it means to be a woman of substance. While I was losing faith in myself, they clung on to me like melting wax on a wooden surface. They made me realise the consequences of forsaking my self-worth in exchange for affection.
I was no longer delusional. What more did I need to stand upon?
The events of tomorrow are beyond my knowledge or control, but what I do hold power over is myself – today and tomorrow. I have realised now the intensity of kindness and generosity. The power of simply being there for someone who may be holding on just by a thread.
We women are powerhouses, the source of strength, power and courage. It’s time we realise this and stretch that hand out to another in need.
Image source: shutterstock
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As parents, we put a piece of our hearts out into this world and into the custody of the teachers at school and tuition and can only hope and pray that they treat them well.
Trigger Warning: This speaks of physical and emotional violence by teachers, caste based abuse, and contains some graphic details, and may be triggering for survivors.
When I was in Grade 10, I flunked my first preliminary examination in Mathematics. My mother was in a panic. An aunt recommended the Maths classes conducted by the Maths sir she knew personally. It was a much sought-after class, one of those classes that you signed up for when you were in the ninth grade itself back then, all those decades ago. My aunt kindly requested him to take me on in the middle of the term, despite my marks in the subject, and he did so as a favour.
Math had always been a nightmare. In retrospect, I wonder why I was always so terrified of math. I’ve concluded it is because I am a head in the cloud person and the rigor of the step by step process in math made me lose track of what needed to be done before I was halfway through. In today’s world, I would have most probably been diagnosed as attention deficit. Back then we had no such definitions, no such categorisations. Back then we were just bright sparks or dim.
Pathaan touted as SRK’s comeback has been in the news for mixed reasons. Right from the hype around SRK’s comeback and special mentions his body contours; yet I can't watch it!
The movie touted as SRK’s comeback has been in the news for mixed reasons. Right from the hype around the movie being SRK’s comeback and special mentions his body contours and even more than the female lead!
For me, it’s not about Deepika’s bikini colour or was-it-needed skin show. It’s about meaningful content that I find is missing big time. Not just this movie, but a spate of cringe-worthy narratives passed off as ‘movies’ in the recent past. I feel insulted, and not because I am a devoutly religious person or a hardcore feminist, but because I feel the content insults my intelligence.
But before everything else, I am a 90s kid who in the case of movies (and maybe more) is stuck in time as it wrapped around me then and the gamut has too hard an exterior for me to crack it open!
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