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YES, I am a Girl, I am a Women, I am a fighter, but, where is my "VOICE"?...Where is my voice lost?
YES, I am a Girl, I am a Women, I am a fighter, but, where is my “VOICE”?…Where is my voice lost?
Where is my “VOICE?To complain, To ask for my rightsTo marry my choice, To demand my education
Where is my “VOICE”In decision making, In dissentingIn disapproving, In this patriarchal society
Where is my voice,To be first in the queue of life,To be a hero within my gender,To be a part of this world in every dimension of life,To be an equal partner in every relation of mine
Where is my VoiceTo tell the pain I carry throughout my lifeTo tell the scars of every nightTo tell my story as a daughter, as a wife, as a mother and so on.
YESI am a Girl, I am a Women,I am a fighterBut, Where is my “VOICE”?
Picture Credit – Pexels
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Women and Child rights activist, Blogger, Author# UNICEF# #International youth journal# 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.
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'Sania denied fairy-tale ending: suffers loss in AUS open final' says a news headline. Is this the best we can do? Is it a fitting tribute to one of the finest athletes we have in our country?
Sania Mirza bid an emotional and tearful farewell to her Grand Slam journey as a runner up in the mixed doubles final. Headlines read –
“Sania Mirza breaks down in tears while recalling glorious career after defeat in Grand Slam’
“Sania denied fairy-tale ending: suffers loss in AUS open final”
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.
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