Check out 16 Return-To-Work Programs In India For Ambitious Women Like You!
In my life I've never gone to my father, brothers, or my husband asking for protection and help even though they are more than ready to come forward to do so.
In my life I’ve never gone to my father, brothers, or my husband asking for protection and help even though they are more than ready to come forward to do so.
I was a feminist even before I knew what the word meant.
If my parents asked me to do any chores, I would insist my younger twin brothers did the same. I was not going to do anything that they were exempt from. As young as I can remember, I was a feminist. A born feminist. It’s in my genes.
Like most Indian families that celebrated all festivals, we celebrated Diwali and Christmas with the same enthusiasm. However, one festival that was a complete no for me was Raksha Bandhan.
So, my brothers longed to flaunt those colorful threads in front of their friends. Girls from their school and neighborhood would tie them Rakhis. Not me.
Who did I need raksha from? After all, I was the Rakshini herself. I argued.
Besides, I’m the older one. I’m there for their protection always and vice versa. We don’t need a thread to prove anything to anybody. That was my logic, and my brothers understood it in time.
Years later, I had a change of heart for one Raksha Bandhan. Think it had something to do with the overdose of oxytocin post maternity.
Am I over-thinking for a festival dedicated to sibling love?
Did I rob my brothers of their joy of flaunting their sister’s love in front of their friends?
Guilt took over. I decided to make-up. But, just once only, my feminist side reasoned. And so I bought two Rakhis for the first time in my life to tie for my brothers.
This time, they laughed.
“Are you mad, Tina?” Both refused to let me tie the rakhis for them.
That’s when I came to my senses. This is not me. We don’t need a thread to show and prove our love to anyone. We are always there for each other in good, bad, and ugly times.
I have traveled in my student years in buses and trains, dined in restaurants, and shopped-alone. Looking back, I did a lot of things solo without ever needing male protection as such. But that was more to do with my intrinsic nature, that yearns for its independence and solitude.
I loitered not just during the day on my bike but also went out to nightclubs. I could just be. But I knew well that with that freedom comes responsibility—to live up to the trust that my parents had in me—and I did.
Like most women, especially Indian women, I’ve been and still get stalked, proposed to, and subjected to unwarranted attention, whether online or offline. But in my life, I’ve learned to tackle such problems on my own. I have never gone to my father, brothers, or my husband asking for protection and help even though they are more than ready to come forward to do so.
As I discovered from the start, I’m enough to protect myself. That’s also my Raksha Bandhan message to my daughter, who is an only child—
“The hero lies in you.”
First published here.
Image source: marcisim on Pixabay
Author, poet, and marketer, know more about Tina Sequeira here: www.thetinaedit.com read more...
Women's Web is an open platform that publishes a diversity of views, individual posts do not necessarily represent the platform's views and opinions at all times.
Stay updated with our Weekly Newsletter or Daily Summary - or both!
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.
Being a writer, Nivedita Louis recognises the struggles of a first-time woman writer and helps many articulate their voice with development, content edits as a publisher.
“I usually write during night”, says author Nivedita Louis during our conversation. Chuckling she continues,” It’s easier then to focus solely on writing. Nivedita Louis is a writer, with varied interests and one of the founders of Her Stories, a feminist publishing house, based in Chennai.
In a candid conversation she shared her journey from small-town Tamil Nadu to becoming a history buff, an award-winning author and now a publisher.
Nivedita was born and raised in a small town in Tamil Nadu. It was for schooling that she first arrived in Chennai. Then known as Madras, she recalls being awed by the city. Her love-story with the city, its people and thus began which continues till date. She credits her perseverance and passion to make a difference to her days as a vocational student among the elite sections of Madras.
Please enter your email address