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What stirred the pot was when she slapped me, owing to her twisted cacophony of lustful thoughts and that was when the SlapGate scandal began.
I am unsure if I can call it a social issue though, in my defense, it pertains to issues that concern me socially!
It was a regular day in my town, which by the way thrives on parties. The high of a day isn’t in how happy you have been or what you achieved at work but the shallow – “You didn’t get an invite?”
It never mattered to me for very early in life I learned the art of distinguishing real from fake. I could attribute it to my ever-consistently loyal gut or maybe it was an inherent part of my nature to just be able to look beyond the masquerade!
I too, went along with the flow in my early thirties, almost as though deliberately choosing to look for the real in the fake. And I was unpleasantly surprised! I don’t call myself a feminist but I have an absolute zero threshold for slut shaming women. Sadly it often comes from other women, close relatives, or friends- and such is my story.
When someone with power asserts themselves on you for vile purposes, there is not much you can do but hold your ground. Publicly, a lot was said, privately even more so. For a moment, not to sound melodramatic but I almost felt the pain Sita must have felt at being questioned about her character in the full public glare! But I chose to stay silent. When friends turned foe and conveniently believed falsified stories and rumours, I tried to make a joke out of it to keep my sanity. But deep inside me, another wave of black silence descended.
It was a regular socialite party with an eclectic mix of generations. I saw her walk in and get intoxicated, which was a usual affair. The town was drunk… but of course, no one dared question her as she belonged to aristocracy! And who was I but a simple married woman? The fact that we had been friends, great friends at that was a fact long camouflaged with deceit, insecurity, and of course jealousy. Why to this date I am ignorant of!
What stirred the pot was when she slapped me, owing to her twisted cacophony of lustful thoughts and that was when the SlapGate scandal began. Yes, I was slut shamed in public! I was told things that I could never in my wildest dreams imagine from anyone, let alone a woman I once considered a friend. I was humiliated and abused for something that was solely her warped mind.
But, it was done.
I did hit back, for self-defense is a vital lesson we are taught. I did talk to my friends hoping they would have it in them to stand for the right instead of the wrong. But, it was a small town and people thrived on parties… Standing with me meant isolation from the glamour and, of course, I had to be guilty for no one dared take a stand against her. She was too evil a human, too powerfully conniving a mind to displease.
So, I stood alone.
The parties continue, the fakeness remains believable. It hurts deep inside me when I teach my daughters never to shed tears for someone who wrongs them, but contradictorily, weep every night at my helplessness.
Crying doesn’t make me a weak woman, it simply makes me human. Or is this a story I tell myself to wake up each morning?
(Abuse against women – emotional or physical cannot be pushed under the rug anymore. I’m finally ready to share my story if you have it in you to listen)
Image Source: wdstock from Getty Images Signature via Canva Pro
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Pooja Poddar Marwah is an Indian author and blogger. (October 22,1978) Her foray into writing began in a parking lot, whilst she was waiting for her kids’ co-curriculars to get over.
Her debut 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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Mostly Normal is a book of innocence, longing, filial love, angst and acceptance, encapsulating a gamut of human emotions within its lightweight edifice. The book touches the human heart and will stay with you.
Some books enthral you till the last page, and then there are those that you stop reading after turning a few pages. Some books are a one-time read, while you carry some books with you long after you have read them. Then, once in a while, a book hits you so close to home that you find it difficult to slot into any category.
I will put Priyadeep Kaur’s Mostly Normal (BookSoul Reads, 2022) in this last bracket.
At a little less than hundred pages, Mostly Normal is a testimony of the power of words to inspire, irrespective of their length.
Most women do not get to live their lives the way they want, on their own terms. So why should they be tied down in their old age?
Every morning, while dropping the kids at the bus stop, I find a grandfather waiting with his granddaughter. I see him again when I fetch the kids. This has been the pattern for the last few years.
He is seen actively participating in his granddaughter’s activities, from morning and evening walks to attending her parent-teachers meeting, sending her for extracurricular activities to even planning her birthday party. He is admired by all. He is appreciated for making himself useful in his old age. People rave that the doting grandfather is doing his duty towards his children and grandchildren. The much-admired grandfather is also a widower, having lost his wife years ago to chronic disease. It’s also to be noted that both his son and daughter-in-law are working parents.
Every day, the onlookers appreciate his sense of duty and dedication. They say that this is how the elderly should keep themselves occupied. They should bring up their grandchildren while their children go off to work.
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