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A poem around the recent floods of Assam and Bihar - with a story from another devastating disaster, the 2018 Kerala flood.
A poem around the recent floods of Assam and Bihar – with a story from another devastating disaster, the 2018 Kerala flood.
A story from the 2018 Kerala flood is presented for us to reflect on the devastating effects of this disaster, especially for those who live in bone-breaking poverty.
A reminder that the tragedy does not end with the flood, but enfolds slowly and painfully for some, long after its memory diminishes in the mainstream psyche.
When December Comes
I sat naked on the wooden bench
Waiting to be drowned in oil
Waiting for all my worries to be punched and pounded out of me
By the two women masseurs
Both, from Kerala.
One massaged my head, the other sat with her head resting on her arms.
Waiting and looking at me. Smiling.
The smile so warm, even my cold hearted self
She tells me,
Her house fell. A few months ago, when Kerala flooded.
Her two daughters and husband live there.
Did they fix the house? I ask.
Somewhat, but not really, she says. The money has to go for the girls educational na.
Her grandfather’s grandfather had also not seen a flood like this.
Then, why now. Why us.
I have no answer.
I ask if she’s been home since the flood,
This job – it must hold.
1200 kms away her family is putting together bits of their house and lives.
Half the house was submerged. Many things lost and damaged.
Trinkets, memories – the least of them. Cupboards and text books,
A table and the masalas kept stored under the counters.
So many things lost.
She smiles again.
She doesn’t get a day off every week like me.
She works from 6AM to 10PM. Massaging away pain.
All her clients come back and ask for her.
She tells me to do it too. Not because she gets paid more then. But just because.
She gets leave once a year.
When December comes she will go home.
She will pick up the pieces and live her loss once again.
When December comes.
Stuti is a queer-affirmative psychotherapist based in Mumbai. read more...
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When someone accuses you of "too much feminism", what they are really saying is, "I am uncomfortable with you challenging the status quo and disrupting my privilege".
Time and again, there is one phrase that keeps coming up in the social media discourse on feminism. Any guesses?
Ah, no prizes for guessing the infamous “itni bhi feminist” or “too much feminism” phrase, a classic eye-roller for me, and I am sure for many more of my tribe, in the realm of gender equality discussions.
Pray tell me, how can an ideology, a movement be too ‘much’? It’s not salt or the seasoning of your soup where you can go, “Oops, too much salt, only one spoon was required”. Either you stand for what feminism stands for, or you don’t.
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As women grew independent, their patterns of choosing partners have changed dramatically. Now women choose men who they feel can satiate their emotional as well as physical needs. Intimacy is no longer the physicality that happened between two people under the supervision of elders of the family for the sole purpose of procreation. Intimacy in today’s marriages involve understanding and fulfilling each other’s emotional as well as sexual needs.
So before you decide to hook up see if you know these five things about intimacy.
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