Me too ..

When I woke up to the #MeToo hashtag, my first reaction was to type out a status with the tag. But after going back and forth a bit, I decided not to tag along. 

I don’t think sexual assault or sexual harassment or even sexual violence need tags or even that they need  victims of these assaults to unite. They literally don’t. I was reading the book ‘The Spy’ by Paulo Coelho few days back and in that when Mata Hari confessed how she had been assaulted by the headmaster and how it took sometime to realise that he had assaulted other girls too, it did seem that unity and talking about it in open did matter. However, that’s the case of one woman who was thought to be ahead of her times or perhaps that’s just a reflection of how the society is and how the society has been towards women by and large. 

Assaults that happen within homes, within extended families, within friends, within protected boundaries of schools, colleges and universities, don’t necessarily make or break the relations. Just that ‘be careful’ and ‘be watchful’ are added to the victims vocabulary. A long list of ‘don’t’s’ follow soon. Who to mingle with, who to talk to, who to confide in, and more importantly who to trust, then become questions of paramount importance thus paving way to a greater impact on the human mind. 

In this entire whirlpool of thoughts, feelings and emotions, somewhere thinking about your own self takes the front seat and everyone else follow; thus marking empathy as a long distant cousin who is perhaps better if avoided at all costs. Sympathy takes a seat in the front row. Rightfully so because it’s this sympathy that the same individual has received when she or he was a victim of someone’s ego, of someone’s vulnerability or fell prey to someone’s power show. And hence, when it was his or her time, sympathy is what he or she could rightfully provide. 

Rising up for causes, tagging along the existing ones, has always left behind a large proportion of individuals who have forgotten what it feels like to be cared for. They surely know and appalaud the courage of those that choose to relive the dark moments or spots from their lives; but they don’t necessarily know the value of empathy and the importance of their own voice because they have been left in isolation. 

Until of course, like that headmaster of Mata Hari’s school, or like Harvey Weinstein, or like some person A or B or X, we are able to tag the name along to the suffering, I don’t see much point in uniting saying ‘Me Too’ just to add to the fact that sexual assaults happen all the time, all around us, to a majority of us. 

If this has to stop, we need to know the individuals on the other side. The victims side of the story has been spoken about, written about and has been in the media for long. The list of Don’ts have significantly increased over the years. We must be doing something wrong! 

Perhaps we don’t need to unite and raise our voices to say ‘yes! I have been sexually assaulted or harassed’ .. Perhaps we need to unite and say ‘this man or woman has assaulted me or has harassed me’ .. Whoever it is! Even if it’s in your own family, that’s what we need to unite against .. Empathy can only be rebuilt if we know the face of who are fighting against. 

We can’t be fighting against the entire human race! There must be an abundance of goodness otherwise how is it that we wake up everyday in hope and in love?! 

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Girls .. 

If I could tell you that one thing that I realised quite late in life,

It is to live in the heart than to live in the mind.

While the world might insist that mind is far stable;

I would still say that heart is the space that is love abled.

To walk through life, you wouldn’t need someone’s thoughts,

You would need a faith in you that you could walk.

As time passes, you will learn a lot,

You will grow, fight, fend and talk.

Through it all you would need to be loved,

To feel, always let faith and belief have you wrapped up.

You wouldn’t need someone’s knowledge to build your own, 

Neither would you grow in someone’s shadow or live in someone’s drone.

Keep the mind far far away because most battles have happened due to mind’s disparity with it’s crave.

Stay in the heart, keep others in it too;

To build a better world, for all of us, this is the least that we can all do.

And being a girl, this should come easy,

Read it in books that our brain is blessed with wires running differently; 

Thus be always guided by your own intuitive connectivity. 

Count the blessings not in form of materials, money or power; and may you always strive to give more than you acquire.

Like attracts like, trust me, very few will admit that to you;

Hence, be the magnet of love and sew. 

International Day of the Girl Child ❤️ 

October 11, 2017.

The life before ..

The life before ‘social profile’ sat in prominence is hard to imagine. Was I this interested in people and their lives is hard to believe and argue? The number of times that I have liked someone’s travel album or someone’s new born baby’s photo is beyond count. Earlier all this information used to travel through in time and I would genuinely be happy or think or leave it to my imagination on how their lives would be. That imagination of mine would generate hope, would generate positivity and a lot of genuine warmth in me for them. Now, with everything right on my wall and in my face, I am pretty sure that my feelings are stagnant.

The same click, the same love, wow and sad expression, how much more do I have to add? Is that all that I am allowed to feel when I switch on that social media tab? I guess everyone likes to be angry once in a while and thank god, I am able to click on anger too but then do I really click it for posts of friends, colleagues and people by and large? No. I seldom react to being angry on a piece of news that I feel has an impact on me somehow. The conformity that I have been made a subject of, governs me day and night. I get notifications on everything that I post online. Why do people react? Why don’t they act? Have we always been a society that acts to react? I wonder.

Do I miss the age old traditions and long waits for a piece of news? Perhaps I have been pushed into the age of ‘now’. I am so used to getting reactions right as I finish posting that I no longer no what it feels like to wait. I could argue that it is a good thing to have happened in time. But I could also counter agrue that perhaps what waiting would have taught me, these instant reactions wouldn’t.

Do I then blame the social media for being a part of life? I guess I blame myself for ‘being social online’.

 

 

3am .. 

She opened her eyes and tried to figure out which city she was in. Delhi, Bombay, Kolkata, Bangalore, London, Sydney, Hong Kong, Vietnam, Cambodia, Kaula Lumpur, or was it some random city in the United States?! The dark room made it hard for her to see. The ceiling felt familiar but the lights were put out for her to read. She closed her eyes and decided to fall asleep. 

This became her 3am routine. Day after day, night after night, years went by and every night ended for her at 3am and every morning began at 3.05am for her. What followed then was a strange sequence of struggle in her thoughts and in the broad daylight when she smiled and laughed, even she didn’t know who she was. 

Several searches revealed strange facts about being up at 3am at night but those never appealed to her. What did appeal to her were those 5 minutes of transition between her reality and her existence. She could argue that her existence was her reality, well, actually not. Her realisations weren’t her reality. They made up for the reality that she chose to see and to trust. Her existence, well, she just existed like the rest of us, in flesh and blood. 

Finding it rather hard to tell and to digest, she decided to move through her transitions and reason. Oh well, like several others, she didn’t realise that even reasons weren’t available for the best known cases. Sometime in history books, she had read that it’s always a struggle between the mind and the heart so she decided to figure out what was it that was tearing her apart. Was it all in her mind or was in all in her heart?! Something somewhere did need to be fixed for her life didn’t feel like life usually does. 

Freedom.

The very fact that none of us have a choice to die closes all avenues and norms of ‘freedom’ that we keep talking about time and again through centuries. We are all born out of other humans. We evolve into humans. We carry out tasks like other humans. We basically move up and down and in circles like every other human. In these movements through time and air, we entangle ourselves into thoughts, theories and actions. We react, we act, we feel and we live. We force feed ourselves into gaining knowledge of the unknown given that we feel very strongly about the power of the universe that we are all a part of! However, in the process we fail to acknowledge that this very universe didn’t give us the key to be equal and to be free in our human form 😂 What it has done though is this. It has given each of us a desire, a little code of information in each of us that makes us all exactly equal and exactly similar. So I don’t understand these baseless debates around equality and around freedom.. Doesn’t suit us humans to even talk of freedom because for sure, the only certainty that we do know of, that is, death, we don’t even have the freedom to choose it so what on earth are we talking about and killing each other and fighting for?! 

Broken. 

Her signatures didn’t match, neither did her cards work 

Heels hurt her ankles; and the back zip made her uncomfortable

She stood patiently looking at her watch 

She was hoping something, somehow would tick in the clock 

The minutes turned to hours and hours into a day

Her routine of waiting never changed its way 

Righteousness never flowed in through the passage of her door 

She never knew what it would be if life had been tuned not abhorred

Perhaps destiny, is what she consoled her heart of!

Maybe the winds were listening to her in disgust and moved on 

Patience gave into pretence; circles reduced to dots 

Brokenness defined itself through her unnerving faith and trust.

(Re) learn to love 

In many households, the home owners eat a different kind of rice to that of their domestic help. In many households, the drivers or housekeepers sit on the floor or stand at the gate or sleep in the car waiting for the owners to arrive or waiting to serve their owners. 

People separate themselves from people based on their work profile, based on their materialistic possessions. Then it becomes the core responsibility of the people, of all people, to eradicate those differences and to view each other simply as ‘humans’. Because this is by far the most hardest thing to do as people love to fan their egos, the discrepancies enhance and the distances increase. 

We then come to view the world in segments. We then come to take it for granted that our domestic help is there to clean our house up, that’s their job; we pay them. We don’t work with them to clean up! Most don’t even take their drivers for a drive or drop them back home once their job of serving you is done; because that’s not your job! 

Paying them is not serving them. Paying them is a way to make sure that they are able to buy whatever goods there is that they need to keep their bodies running. Money doesn’t buy anyone the thoughts or love or feelings. 

If a human is available to serve you, it’s not you, the human, that they are serving. They are serving the highest in you by the highest in them; so that you, the human and they the human are equally benefitted through the process. Hence, help them. Work with them. Eat together. Pray together because that’s when you would heal and also relearn to love humans beyond boundaries and definitions.