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'My in-laws are too great,' she said, 'They — "allow" me to wear jeans even though I am wed....' Another one said her husband was too good, 'He sometimes even cooks his own food!'
‘My in-laws are too great,’ she said, ‘They— “allow” me to wear jeans even though I am wed…’
Another one said her husband was too good, ‘He sometimes even cooks his own food…’
Both of them were working, I thought,
One of them earned higher than her husband, does she not?
Then why this general notion of, ‘being allowed,’ — why is cooking and cleaning only the wife’s job?
Why this ignorance, why no awareness?
Aren’t the women empowered, or are they their husbands’ governess ?
‘When you will marry you will know,’ I got a reply befitting
Do they want me to have the same issues they face? I thought there sitting…
The problem lies in the age-old notion of the differences in gender,
The wife wears a saree and sindoor, and is constantly the bender…
The husband is the stronger one, the mighty and the lord,
Their sensitiveness is a weakness, it is a general concord.
Doesn’t this difference harm both of them, and yet they readily agree,
I feared marriage more and more and when I hear, ‘Wedding,’ I flee…
Then another friend of mine got married and somehow made me meet her,
She was a homemaker looking for a job, and I was afraid to talk further…
But when she told the story of her house, she said, ‘My husband and I fight like siblings.’
Her in-laws are like her parents, and the next part to many will sting…
Her in-laws and parents divided the expenses and gifted her their heirlooms.
Spending was minimal, and she was happy, and there was no sight of a doom…
What I realized is to get over differences and accept people as they are,
The notion of manliness and femininity are way too old and sour.
The secret is to be happy and never mean any harm and do your work and be yourself and always keep ‘KAAM SE KAAM’.
Image source: 1001Nights via Getty Images, free on CanvaPro
Often the test of courage is not to die but to live.. read more...
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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.
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