She & Her & Some Hope

She is a girl, fearless girl, who has been brought up with immense love and care. Her family has given her freedom, made her into an independent women, given her everything she needed, and moulded her into a responsible women.  In spite of being brought up in a small town, she hasn't been any different from her other counterparts. She stepped into Mumbai, to live on her own, when she was just 15.

Today she is a 21 year old woman, and when she hears about these rapes around the country, one feeling that haunts her is Anger. She is not scared; being scared is not going to help. Telling her story will only make people point fingers at her. Raising her voice will get her all the more stares and challenging the rules set up for a woman of this country will only increase her chances of getting raped.

Every morning when she walks down the road, there is a feeling that someone is constantly following her, that someone has his eye constantly at her.  But she ignores them all, walks down the road anyway, head held high, staying alert. Sometimes she sits alone and cries, cries for her freedom, cries for some safety, cries because her male counterparts are safe, cries because she is a girl, but then she goes off to sleep, because reasoning has never helped in this country. 

A gang rape, which came under the limelight, makes the people hurl abuses at the government, the police, and the country. What about those which go unnoticed each day? And forget about the rape, the same people raising their voices on the social networking sites, will discuss about how the girl will spend her life. Traumatized for sure, but she isn't dead, she can lead a normal life, if you let her lead one. She doesn't mind saying this, that rape is over-rated, yes it is OVER-RATED, because we don’t stop giving sympathy, no, the victim does not need sympathy, she needs hope.

She will live in Mumbai, will not leave India, she will have the same respect for men in her country, but she will have no trust. She will go out, meet her friends, might as well come late at night, and will always know that every moment there is chance of getting molested, of getting raped. The memories won’t stop haunting her; in fact she will go through the same feeling, every time women will be raped in India. She will lead a normal life, but will know that there won’t be a moment when she will be safe. She will continue to live on her own, head strong, with little hope, that one day she will be safe, and till she gets to see that one day, she has to live, live with the memories, live with the hope.

Priorities

“Priorities, Priorities, they define your life. 

Hurt you, break you, and claim your sleep.

Yes, time heals everything, yet the effect is so deep, it leaves a scar. 

Priorities, Priorities, they define your life”

Last Evening

The kind of a girl I am, I cannot be alone, not even for a moment, except when I am depressed, or when there is no other option, but to be alone. Last evening, after office I decided to go shopping, all by myself. The deciding part itself took like an hour, and then accepting the fact that I was going alone, took another hour. Even offered my colleague to accompany me, but then she refused, and, I finally ended up going out alone.

I have my own weird reasons of not going alone somewhere out, I have never really been alone, always been indecisive and  always had this odd feeling of roaming around all alone, plus my talkative nature just can’t stay quiet, especially when I am somewhere out, and get excited about anything.  Now let’s get back to last evening, when I dared to step out alone, entered a mall alone, and bought things all alone, with much confusion and saved a lot of time and also saved a lot of money.

And before I tell you how I am feeling, right now, while writing this piece of blog post, let me clear that I didn’t go shopping for clothes or accessories or any girly stuff. I went shopping for stationary. Yes, you heard it right stationary. 

So I was sitting at my office, with not much work, and I with no mood to either read or write or surf on the internet, so I sat in front of my desktop, staring into infinity and thinking about random things (one of favorite pastimes at work) and somehow it struck me that nothing is making me cheerful at that particular moment, and I don’t want to go back home and stare at the wall, so I an idea struck me that I should go shopping, shopping for something productive.

 Now how is stationary productive? I have always been really fascinated with painting, sketching, drawing or whatever form of art you call it. And some 2-3 months back, my grandfather had given me an advice that I should spend some part of my salary to buy something that will increase my credibility and add to my talent. So I decided to buy a book, and guess what I ended up buying Paints, and sketch book, and sketch pens, and pencils and paint brushes and so many more things. And then I came back home, and kept staring at it like a baby, you know every year in school, when your parents used to buy you those new books, and pens, and pencils, and bags, and you used to be so excited about everything, that was how excited and happy I was after buying those small, productive things.

And I wrote this whole thing, just because I had to express my happiness somewhere and write how easy it is to shop alone. Next time when I ask anyone to come to shop along with me please remind me this incident. I would really appreciate and treat that person with a pastry.