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In our first Shopping Story, Monika Pant writes about a shopping venture that made her look beyond her small circle in life.
Woman in poverty
Monika, in her own words: I am an English teacher, short story writer and poet. I have authored several series of English course books. My short stories and poems have been published in various collections. I am currently writing a couple of novels based on my experiences as a cancer survivor and a children’s mystery novel.
She sat with her bloated belly on the steps of the bakery in my neighbourhood. As I swung the door open to enter the shop, I glimpsed her pinched face and my heart lurched. Today was my daughter’s birthday and I had come to order a scrumptious chocolate cake for her. She looked at me, half imploring, half indignant that she had to suffer the indignity of pleading. She said not a word, her eyes said it all.
I remembered the cravings I used to have when I was carrying, and I mused on the injustice of it all. Do cravings merely afflict the rich and affluent? I would not generally categorize myself as one such, but today I felt that it made sense to believe that I was surely one of those fortunate to go for a chocolate éclair, or a kawab, or even a Chinese dinner, if my mood so dictates. Even when my cravings are not justified.
I did not know what her craving was. Nor did I know whether she understood what it was to crave. Merely getting sufficient nutrition for the growing baby in her might be a difficult task for her. Yet, I knew the hunger pangs that visit an expectant mother on a regular basis. That does not discriminate between classes, between haves and have-nots. Even classifying her as a have-not, made me cringe in shame. Who was I to make distinctions of this sort? All I knew was that there was a child ready to enter the world where he or she would have to battle all odds: to survive, to live a reasonably dignified life. Then again, the child might reverse the fortunes of the mother who bore him.
All these thoughts crossed my mind as I reached out and gave her some money to buy some food for herself. Nonchalantly, she took it and got up, probably to buy what she could. I gazed at her retreating back. I felt so poor that I could not give her enough to cater for the baby she was expecting. I started wishing I had given her some more. I wished that I had had a shawl with me to give her so that she could brave the approaching winter.
Though for many days afterwards, I carried a shawl in my car, and my eyes searched for her on the steps of the bakery, I did not catch a glimpse of her. Some day, somewhere, I am sure that I will see her and I will make amends. I hope to thank God for what I have received in my life in this way. A mother taught me to go further in my life and look beyond my limited family and understand what I owe to all those less fortunate than I am.
*Photo credit: focus2capture (Used under the Creative Commons Attribution License.)
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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.
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