International Women's Day

How many times do you feel pride for your mothers because they do everything they can for you, and hardly ever ask for anything?
Ask yourselves, should you really be glorifying THAT?
Isn’t it outright sad, instead?

I feel heartbroken. The glory given to a mother is directly proportional to the sack full of sacrifices she makes. You know what’s more upsetting? Most of the children grow up seeing and believing that motherhood is the synonym of sacrifice. Most women worry that if they stop giving at whatever costs, they will lose their worth in their families.

Did you notice the many quotes that were shared on this International Women’s Day, GLORIFYING the sacrifices women constantly make for their families?

Oh yes, let’s lick our egos for keeping women’s will at our service.
Giving is good, giving connects you to other people, as one.

But giving at the cost of your own well-being and joy — it’s the tragedy that should be treated as a tragedy.

How about a quick story?
Here’s my fictional take on the context of Agni Pareeksha from the Ramayana, which I posted as Instagram story, a few weeks ago. (Followed me yet?)

* * *

Celebrations happen when Rama, Sita, Laxman return to their city. Rama — with a pensive mood — says, “Sita, because of the unfortunate fact that you were held hostage by the devil Ravana for long, there is need for you to go through the ‘Agni Pareeksha’, for the sake of our people and to remove the scope of any doubt from their minds.”

Sita gulps down the injury caused by Rama’s suggestion, but decides to carry herself with the utmost pride, and says to her brother-in-law, “Laxman. Build the fire.”

Laxman goes through a lot of mental hullaballo himself, but knows better than to question. He builds the fire hesitatingly.

* After a while. *

Laxman stands aside silently, with his head bowed down and hands joined together, out of both—apology and respect. Everyone waits and is scared for Sita to give the so-called test on her chastity through the trial by fire.
Prayers and murmurs, all around.

Sita feels hurt, but not because of the fire that awaits her. She knows she will walk out of the fire alive, untouched. She glances sideways, at Rama once, and proceeds to walk towards the fire. Prove her worth to her people. The victory will be hers.

But before she could step into the fire, she stops.
Squinted eyes, frozen glances, and murmurs, all around.
Sita looks at Rama again, shakes her head, and mutters under her breath, “Fuck this shit.”

EXITS Sita.
EXISTS Sita.

* * *

I totally understand, why so many men would believe themselves to be the center of the women’s universe; why they treat women as if women’s existence is about being dominated, dictated, controlled, summoned, and tested.

I get it. A woman without a man is like a penguin without a telephone.
Total existential crisis.

And yet SO MANY men and women believe they aren’t related to the problem. Don’t you think we can do better than pretending we are unrelated?

We disregard the deeply rooted patriarchy like we ignore the lanes on the roads in India.

Last year, I watched Ellen’s standup on Netflix, where she says that when she decided to do the standup, a friend of hers subtly directed her to the fact that she had turned sixty, and questioned her, “Will you still be relatable?”

Ellen titles the standup, ‘Relatable’. She begins by talking about how different she is. She jokes about having a butler in her extraordinarily massive house, and cements the fact that celebrities are the most unrelated people, that’s why people build fantasies around them.

But as she progresses through the show and talks about her story, similarities surface up. Similarities, that make you connect with her. She ends her show by saying,

icon-quotation-markWhether you’re gay or have dry eye, we’re all same. We’re all relatable.

Whether you choose to speak through your voice, writing, painting, marching, or by fuelling in yourselves, the audacity to live—one thing no one can make you, is shut up. There is power in the truth, regardless of the googol lies that get built around to envelope it.

Truth is intimidating by itself. Because it happened, it exists.

To the women, I’d say, flap your wings like the penguins, and march on. The women in the history — our heroes — did, and they got us this far, didn’t they?

This International Women’s day and thereon, fill your hearts with more joy, more power, y’all.
Take crunchy care, Potatoes.
Aikta

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Don't mumble, TYPE AWAY, with just your email (hidden) and name. This serving is cooked with love. Don't forget to feed the tiny, hungry stars too.

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Kriti sharma
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Kriti sharma
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you have taken your thoughts to some other level.kafi aacha likha hai.

Aikta Srivastava
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Aikta Srivastava

Thank you so much, Kriti!

Ankita
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I thought about what you asked today. I would love to do something in the medical field that could help people in a more meaningful way

Aikta Srivastava
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Aikta Srivastava

Gosh, you go girl! Some aspiration, there! And thank you so much, for posting your response to my email.