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A poem which talks about varied labels and the process of constantly reinventing oneself.
You,
a good girl,
a rebellious one,
studious,
free spirit,
Labels , different identities
given by society, parents, teachers and friends.
Are they right or wrong
I don’t know.
The stranger within!
How do they claim to know me,
When I am not sure what to typify myself as?
I love to read
and argue.
Chatter, reflect and rebel.
But, sometimes traditional
dress up in the classic black dress,
and the gentle pastels,
I am all those labels
and none of them!
I may be more-
which I don’t yet know.
A new experience,
A new place,
A new person,
Makes me search within
for a new me.
Constantly growing,
Adding new adjectives,
Discarding some.
Darling, whatever is your present label-
Married , Unmarried, Separated, Divorced
Working mom, or stay-at-home mom,
Be proud of yourself!
These labels don’t limit you.
Allow yourself to grow,
What matters-
is the stranger within.
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Neena was the sole caregiver of Amma and though one would think that Amma was dependent on her, Neena felt otherwise.
Neena inhaled the aroma that emanated from the pan and took a deep breath. The aroma of cumin interspersed with butter transported her back to the modest kitchen in her native village. She could picture her father standing in the kitchen wearing his white crisp kurta as he made delectable concoctions for his only daughter.
Neena grew up in a home where both her parents worked together in tandem to keep the house up and running. She had a blissful childhood in her modest two-room house. The house was small but every nook and cranny gave her memories of a lifetime. Neena’s young heart imagined that her life would follow the same cheerful course. But how wrong she was!
When she was sixteen, the catastrophic clutches of destiny snatched away her parents. They passed away in a road accident and Neena was devastated. Relatives thronged her now gloomy house and soon it was decided that she should be married off.
Women today don’t want to be in a partnership that complicates their lives further. They need an equal partner with whom they can figure out life as a team, playing by each other’s strengths.
We all are familiar with that one annoying aunty who is more interested in our marital status than in the dessert counter at a wedding. But these aunties have somehow become obsolete now. Now they are replaced by men we have in our lives. Friends, family, and even work colleagues. It’s the men who are worried about why we are not saying yes to one among their clans. What is wrong with us? Aren’t we scared of dying alone? Like them?
A recent interaction with a guy friend of mine turned sour when he lectured me about how I would regret not getting married at the right time. He lectured that every event in our lives needs to be completed within a certain timeframe set by society else we are doomed. I wasn’t angry. I was just disappointed to realize that annoying aunties are rapidly doubling in our society. And they don’t just appear at weddings or family functions anymore. They are everywhere. They are the real pandemic.
Let’s examine this a little closer.
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