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I let my husband go to his workplace with a tear in his shirt. I saw it. I still did not pester him to change the shirt, so I can sew the tear. He was okay with it. He did not give two hoots about it. So I decided to not give two hoots about it either.
This morning, I made a very revolutionary decision of not letting the patriarchy win in my head. I let my husband go to his workplace with a tear in his shirt. I saw it. Likewise, I told him. It was not a big tear. I would not have even noticed it if it was not for our “come home soon” hug.
If some keen observer at his workplace decided to spend his productive time staring at my husband’s shoulder, he would have noticed a shiny vest peeking out coyly.
I still did not pester him to change the shirt, so I can sew the tear. He was okay with it. He did not give two hoots about it. So I decided to not give two hoots about it either.
Hawwww! I heard the collective gasp of women surviving daily under the pressure of ensuring their husbands go to work neatly dressed. Regardless their own proclivity of spending energy towards how and what should someone dress like, they know they will bear the sole responsibility of how their husband’s clothes look. The blame shall be laid upon them.
Why! I heard all the Hemas, Sushmas, Jayas and Rekhas flabbergasted. Why indeed would I not take the effort of sending my husband prim and proper?
What! I heard my mother’s screams. Where is your good wife decency? Is this how you send your husband in society?
NO! I heard my deeply conditioned brain ask myself, is this how I intended to become the Lakshmi of this household?
The feeling of having failed my life, family, husband crept insidiously, persistently, and I ignored it.
I did not, in all honesty, wake up with such an intention of revolution. I had missed taking my dose of Desvenlafaxine yesterday, so my serotonin and dopamine both were running low, and the withdrawal symptoms hit me only at night.
Furthermore, I had dreamt about almost naked women with their naturally augmented breasts, and men with their weird bulks, living in cave like structures, sustainably handling their first gay rebellion. I woke up groggy, with a mild headache starting to make its home in my brain.
The internal auditor of my bank had steadfastly refused any explanation or grant any concession with respect to the performance of my department. A cousin was complaining about my mother, who is living with them, being stubborn about not going to the dentist for her prolonged severe toothache.
The menstrual cup that I have been trying to get comfortable with for about a year now kept popping right out at the touch of my skin. The spouse decided the tea was not milky enough and poured an extra dose of milk, taking off all the caffeine out of it.
And so I decided to triumph over my own patriarchy by not minding my husband about his clothes. I wanted this win. As I sit and type this, after having my SOS and my daily D Veniz dose it suddenly feels like a very tiny thing to be proud of, but when I think back and recollect the sort of pressure I felt at that precise moment my husband was stepping out, I feel good now for not letting it win.
I am glad that at least today I will remember myself as a person who had all the chances to spiral right into the abyss, of patriarchy, of societal expectations, of stressful work-life balance, but chose to stay as focused on not spiralling as a cat focusses when she is stalking her prey. This win would be mine.
Image source: shylendrahoode via Getty Images signature, free on CanvaPro
As I await the revolution - I crush the mustard seeds and milk the poppy. read more...
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What I loved was how there is so much in the movie of the SRK we have known, and also a totally new star. The gestures, the smile, the wit and the charisma are all too familiar, but you also witness a rawness, an edginess.
When a movie that got the entire nation in a twist – for the right and wrong reasons – hits the theatres, there is bound to be noise. From ‘I am going to watch it – first day first show’ to ‘Boycott the movie and make it a flop’, social media has been a furore of posts.
Let me get one thing straight here – I did not watch Pathaan to make a statement or to simply rebel as people would put it. I went to watch it for the sheer pleasure of witnessing my favourite superstar in all his glory being what he is best at being – his magnificent self. Because when it comes to screen presence, he burns it, melts it and then resurrects it as well like no other. Because when it comes to style and passion, he owns it like a boss. Because SRK is, in a way, my last connecting point to the girl that I once was. Though I have evolved into so many more things over the years, I don’t think I am ready to let go of that girl fully yet.
There is no elephant in the room really here because it’s a fact that Bollywood has a lot of cleaning up to do. Calling out on all the problematic aspects of the industry is important and in doing that, maintaining objectivity is also equally imperative. I went for Pathaan for entertainment and got more than I had hoped for. It is a clever, slick, witty, brilliantly packaged action movie that delivers what it promises to. Logic definitely goes flying out of the window at times and some scenes will make you go ‘kuch bhi’ , but the screenplay clearly reminds you that you knew all along what you were in for. The action sequences are lavish and someone like me who is not exactly a fan of this genre was also mind blown.
A new Gallup poll reveals that up to 40% of Indian women are angry compared to 27% of men. This is a change from 29% angry women and 28% angry men 10 years ago, in 2012.
Indian women are praised as ‘susheel’, virtuous and to be emulated when they are obedient, ready to serve others and when they put the wishes of others before their own. However, Indian women no longer seem content to be in the constrictive mould that the patriarchy has fashioned for them. A Gallup poll looked at the issue of women’s anger, their worry, stress, sadness and found that women consistently feel these emotions more than men, particularly in India.
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