Sreemati Sen Karmakar holds a Masters in Social Work (MSW) From Visva Bharati, Shantiniketan. She is a Development Professional, specialised in Psychiatric care of Differently Abled Children. That hasn’t stopped her from exploring other fields. Years of experience in Social and Consumer Research are also a part of her portfolio. A mother of two, she is passionate about travelling and writing. When she finds the time, she writes. Writing is catharsis.
She has been writing on a number of online platforms. One of her short stories was recently published in ‘I’m Not In Stories Only’, an anthology of horror stories by Criticspace Journals and Evincepub Publishing. She has also contributed to an anthology of short stories on Caregivers, titled, "No One Fights Alone", published by Criticspace Journals and Evincepub Publishing.
What is wrong in telling my son about periods and buying pads while he is around? Isn't that one more step towards normalising menstruation?
A dad who wants to pass on his A-1 skills to his daughter
For five days, when we bleed and suffer from the cramps, it’s absolutely fine to demand the much-needed rest for our body. Proudly declare, yes, we bleed!
Right from her second birthday, she was told that her place was in the kitchen. Is a woman's place only in the kitchen? Does she have no other identity?
My father's best friend took advantage of this relationship and sexually abused me for years before I spoke up, only to be silenced. But I've now found healing by fighting back as an adult.
Isn’t it high time that we changed these norms and expectations? And one last word….next time you think of such ridiculous ideas, also remember that you have a daughter.
“You have been a true warrior, beta. When everyone around us refused to help, you were the only one! Salute, warrior! ”
The indignity of baring her breast, allowing strangers to handle her private parts and the disappointment of not being able to feed her child smothered her. The happiness that she had known was short-lived.
She had no idea how long she had stood looking at him. The doors opened to her floor. Holding her by her elbow, Arjun guided her to her seat.
As if taking a cue from his friend, the furry ball jumped on mother and licked away her tears.
Food was never special for them. It was a means of sustenance. Delicacies were always cooked for men. Women learnt to survive on leftovers.
She was not a conventional beauty. Her defiance and fiery temperament was deemed unsuitable for their family. The conditions laid down by her were totally unacceptable.
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