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Creator, destroyer, mother, goddess, woman. Some versions are celebrated, some are shunned. Why is that?
Who am I?I wonder…
They say I am Janani, I am the creator of them.But why then do they kill me – in the womb, at my birth?They are born of me; their birth is celebrated with glee.But, why are no robust celebrations held at my birth?Where will they come from, if there were to be no me?Do they ever wonder?
They say I am Ma, the mother goddess, the protector.But why then do they only pay obeisance to my idols in temples?Can they not see that their idol is a representation of me?They seek protection from my idol yet I am offered no protection?I am subjugated, oppressed, abused and dishonored.Do they ever question their actions?
They say I am the Devi, the granter of boons.But then, why do they shun me when I menstruate?Is the sign of procreation not the greatest boon of all?Why do they shame me, isolate me when I bleed for them?Why am I removed from society and family?What is this hypocrisy?
They say, I am the gruhalaxmi, the Goddess of fortune.They clothe me in red; apply vermillion and a red tika.They apply red dye to my hands and feet, save the impressions.They say that my steps into my new home will bring prosperity.And yet, my daughter, born of my womb is bemoaned?Are these the same people?
Is the colour of my blood different from the colour of my suhag?Is scarlet not red? Is scarlet not vermillion?Why is there such distinction in the colours?Or, is the distinction in the black hearts of the people?Are they unable to see that we all bleed the same?When will they see that we are all equal?
Image by Maike und Björn Bröskamp from Pixabay
Sonal is a multiple award winning blogger and writer and the founder of a women-centric manpower search firm - www.rianplacements.com.
Her first book, a volume of poetry - Islands in the stream - is slated read more...
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Relatives kissing children's penises made me wonder how this is leaving boys vulnerable to potential abuse under the garb of affection.
As we witness in all Indian family gatherings – whether a wedding, a birthday, or a summer vacation – nostalgia soaks us all.
However, one such gathering exposed me to a horrific practice that, though common in many houses worldwide, is very problematic.
It all started with my horror at hearing one of the supposedly funny anecdotes about my cousin’s birth.
Many men suffer from an inferiority complex when their women are earning. They feel their wives will rise higher in the professional worlds.
I hear many women tell me about how they are privileged that their husbands do not want them to work.
One claims that her husband wants her to have a luxurious life and just relax and rest. Another feels her husband just wants her to stay at home and enjoy cooking. Some feel that their husbands just want them to look after the children. Some other women look at these women and feel that they are so lucky and fortunate to have such loving and caring husbands.
My question to these luxurious women is that then why did you educate yourselves? Why did you painstakingly study? Is your purpose in life to only be dependent on your husbands for money? Do you not have any skills that can be utilized? What about teaching and showing others what you have learnt.