Check out 16 Return-To-Work Programs In India For Ambitious Women Like You!
Women are taken for granted, invisible unless they have a function useful to men and the patriarchy. But we are not taking this lying down.
Call me by my name, As I have fought for it.
A school teacher once told me that my name doesn’t have a meaning; I have to give it one. Millions like me live and die in the sea of anonymity, but I ran, bruised and bounced back to carve my name.
Call me by my name as you don’t know who my father is; His story was never written; but I will make sure mine is.
Call me by my name as I walked into a thousand rooms introducing myself, I filled a million forms explaining who I am and What I can be. I spent my blood, sweat and tears sailing in a sea of anonymity.
Bitch behind my back, Or pat my shoulder, Or tell me where I’m wrong,
Laugh when I fall, Mimic my tone, Or compliment my resilience, I have spent my whole life pushing the glass ceiling,
So, even when you criticise; I’m happy that I’m at least seen.
Our lives exist in statistics. We are a part of the population census, we make up for the literacy ratio and for the vaccination numbers. We are the vote bank.
They don’t make memorials in our names, we don’t get eulogies; our bodies evaporate and become death tolls.
We become death certificates hidden in government files that get dusted and eventually get forgotten.
Our PM doesn’t tweet our name when we die; he doesn’t even know we are alive.
Our lives are small. We die running after roti, kapda, makan. But I’m hungry and I want more, And you better not tell me what I deserve.
Beware! We are lethal. We are fire, and desire and we are water – we make our ways.
We are not here to revolve around the centre. We are not planets, we are the Sun. We give life, but come close and you burn.
Call me by name as I have earned it. I don’t want to be an obituary in a newspaper – I want to be the headline.
Will you remember my name, my existence, my fight? Oh honey, I will make sure you do.
Image source: a still from the film Dil Dhadakne Do
I am Janvi Sonaiya, native of Jam-Khambhalia in Saurashtra, currently based out Ahmedabad but a global citizen by choice. News steers me and I am intrigued by all that happens in the world we 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!
UP Boards Topper Prachi Nigam was trolled on social media for her facial hair; our obsession with appearance is harsh on young minds.
Prachi Nigam’s photo has been doing the rounds on social media for the right reasons. Well, scratch that- I wish the above statement were true. This 15-year-old girl should ideally be revelling in her spectacular achievement of scoring a whopping 98.05% and topping her tenth-grade boards. But oddly enough, along with her marks, it’s something else that garners more attention – her facial hair.
While the trolls are driving themselves giddy by mocking this girl who hasn’t even completed her school yet, the ones who are taking her side are going one step ahead – they are sharing her photoshopped pictures, sans the facial hair, looking nothing less than a celebrity with captions saying – “Prachi Nigam, ten years later”.
Doctors have already diagnosed her with PCOD in their comments, based on photographic evidence. While we have names for people shamed for their weight – body shaming, for their skin colour- racism, for their age- age shaming, for being a female- sexism, this category of shaming where one faces criticism for their appearance has no name. With that, it also has zero shame attached to it.
Please enter your email address