Have you ever felt strong emotions at a place, any random place? When you are absorbed contemplating the subliminal beauty of a place do you feel an outpour of heavenly sensations? As if there is an evocative conversation going on between your soul and that place? Your heart quivers with ecstasy. You feel life is […]

Go where you feel most alive

We are living in interesting times. There is a lot of ‘disruption’ happening around us. There are members of LGBTQ community rightfully fighting for a dignified life, there are women fighting the ageless and endless patriarchy since forever, there are minorities across the world fighting against the toxic nationalism and then there are the tribal, the Dalit fighting against the entrenched and fortified forces of suppression. I couldn’t have asked for a better time to live in. The India that I am trying to make, in my own small ways, is the India which will offer equality and dignity to all its ‘inhabitants’ ‘wholeheartedly’.

International women’s day is celebrated every year on 8^th March. It is a focal point in the movement for women’s rights. Not many would know that on March 8, 1917, women gained suffrage in Soviet Russia and has become a national holiday there. Some countries don’t have a national holiday on women’s day, in some places, it is a day of protest, and in others, it is a day which celebrates womanhood. I have seen Women’s day being reduced to getting samples, free services, and discounts on exactly the topics which abhor the idea of a complete woman.

For example, I get a coupon from a leading cosmetic company to ‘enhance’ the brightness of my skin. Another cosmetic company was promising me a cream which would ‘defy’ age and reduce my wrinkles. Free samples were doled out to women to get dolled up for ‘that’ special occasion in their lives; marriage. I came to know it wasn’t graduation or first day at work but marriage. According to a leading actress, every woman can have only one special day in their life; the day they get married. Honestly, the most special day of my life was when I ran away from the office, avoiding peak traffic hours, to watch the Hindi movie Jab We Met with my friends. It has been more than 10 years now and till date, the moment has never been repeated. Everyone has their special days but tying them up with marriage or making a sweeping generalization has always been the norm.

The 5000 years of perpetuating the archaic tradition of patriarchy have made women the most unfortunate, passive and sacrificial victims. Women operate from a lack of self-worth. Let us not forget that there is a lack of reproductive rights, sexual discrimination, and the hidden epidemic of domestic violence against which women are fighting every single day. I am reading an interesting book which is a scientific and logical yet a brutal analysis of India’s ancient past where the protagonist makes a heart-wrenching statement; “There are not four castes but five. The fifth being the women; at the lowest pedestal of caste system always at the mercy of the men whom she gave birth to, brought up, fed and satisfied. Yet she is always objurgated.” That was 5000 years ago and we are pretty much doing the same 5000 years later.

Slavery is abolished worldwide but we have given it a fancy name, ‘working women’. If you are a working mother then may the forces of the Universe be with you. A working woman is assumed to be Durga, a warrior goddess with eight hands. Except that she cannot be a warrior like Durga. She has to attend the chores of the house and work in office flawlessly with emphasis given on her being ‘mute’. She is not allowed to have long working hours because that will ‘impact’ the house. I am not sure how a woman working long hours in office triggers a meteoroid that will ‘impact’ her home. There must be some magical switch in the Universe which monitors the hours of every working woman apart from the organization which at least, in the case of time monitoring, is gender independent. In the office she cannot complain because she must be grateful she has a job. Pay parity and gender equality are a thing of the past. I recently met a gentleman whose exact words, “Arre! What you girls do in office? Plus you also get maternity leaves.” My response was….clueless. What should I respond? Should I give him details about how painful motherhood can be? Or should I tell him that by law women are entitled to the maternity leave? Or should I ask him to just shut up? I was clueless. Here is an educated man, who has a wife at home and kids and definitely knows what goes in bringing up the kids, managing the home and working in an office. Also to add, dealing with an unsympathetic spouse. I just ended the conversation to a much better place, my work desk.

Men with their unsympathetic and brute coldness towards the harrows women face in their everyday lives have started a new movement; men’s rights movement (MRM). This movement is notably anti-feminist and addresses ‘social’ issues. Feminism has been interpreted in many ways but the one thing I can tell is that it is not a religion or a doctrine. There is not a ‘do’ or a ‘do not do’ list to become feminist. In fact, we all are so deeply marinated in patriarchy that at times unknowingly we end up supporting the wrong side. I am talking about myself. Many times, I have unknowingly supported the perpetrators of the crime against women because of the patriarchal mindset I grew up in. My family was not male-controlled but we all lived in a society which was male-dominated and this did entrench my thought process while growing up. It is a challenge to become a feminist. Every day is learning process and thanks to feminism that women have the right to vote, to hold public office, to work, to earn fair wages, to own property, to receive education, to have equal rights within marriage, and to have ‘maternity’ leave.

Any historical social change in the status of women has to be attributed to the efforts of feminist campaigns. In fact, feminism can be liberating for men also. Traditional gender roles have harmed men as much as they have harmed women. Patriarchy is known to encourage violence and also result in mental health issues. Because men have to uphold these toxic gender norms throughout the course of their life, men can end up repressing their feelings, which can harm them and those close to them. Feminism can be associated with freedom from the traditional gender roles defined for men and women.

When women today fight for pay parity it is not a myth that we are fighting against. It is rooted deep in our society and is faceless. Fighting a faceless enemy can be more taxing than fighting the known faces. The Monster Salary Index 2018 showed that the median gross hourly salary for men in India was Rs 242.49 in 2018 against Rs 196.3 for women — a difference of Rs 46.19. The pay gap spans across sectors. In the IT industry, the survey showed men earning 26% more than women. In the manufacturing sector, men earned 24% more while in healthcare and social work, men earned 21% more. Source: Huffington post now imagine working on the same designation, equal hours as your male colleague and yet being paid less by around 26% and then also hearing the associated clichés from your male compatriots because of your gender. Isn’t this a point of worry? Not to forget we are all going to introduce our kids into this toxic environment where men feel entitled only because of their gender. It doesn’t stop here, there are cases of sexual harassment reported far and wide. In some cases the action is taken, in some, it is not. However, the perspective to evaluate generally starts from whether the woman, in this case, is of questionable character or not? Definitely not ‘questionable’, but should ask if ‘consensual’. Mighty trees have fallen post the #metoo movement. But still, women are the ones who take the brunt of sexual violence. Imagine fighting your demons alone. Imagine sitting on a rollercoaster running nonstop at the speed of 267mph. Imagine crying every day and fighting every day. It is a pain so real, you can touch it. Sexual violence in marriage is not even a crime in India. In India, if you are a husband you can get away with the rape of your wife. It is not a crime. Domestic violence the bitter truth of this progressive world cannot be hidden under the carpet anymore. Women fighting against this rampage are not just rural women but also a part of our urban elite. And still, feminism is questioned? Men, please stop playing the victim. The entitlement you’ve received for 5000 years will be questioned by women every day.

Someone sent me a message on women’s day which was in Sanskrit and meant, “There is no jewel like a woman.” We are fighting exactly against this mentality which makes woman a jewel to be owned. She ends up being a precious piece of rock for which men fight. The woman is not a jewel. She is a living being. She is not meant to be owned. And please stop worshipping her. Please stop putting a woman at a pedestal if you don’t mean to respect her. Don’t worship Adi Shakti if you cannot talk to your wife in a polite tone. Stop berating women in the name of tradition and culture. We live. We breathe. We have a heart which feels. We have a brain which works perhaps better than many men. We need equality. We need feminism.

Women’s day is not just March 8^th.  Every day the woman struggles. If you can make her struggles easy, irrespective of your gender, you are a feminist. If you can give her voice the strength to question the status quo, you are a feminist. If you understand that women are still fighting for equality, you are a feminist. There is nothing wrong with being one. Embrace feminism. It will eventually liberate us.

It is time rebrand secularism. Secularism is not a thought of the past. In current times and the diversity we live in, it is of utmost importance to acknowledge that only being secular is the way forward. People take pride in being Hindu, Musalman, Christian, Sikh (only 4 major religions am writing about but there are many) but how many of us take pride in being Indian. There are slogans like – Hindi, Hindu, Hindustan and it reeks of majoritarianism. With disproportional importance being given to Hindi other languages are automatically ruled out. India is not just Bihar, Uttar Pradesh, Madhya Pradesh and Rajasthan. India is Karnataka, Kerala, Tamil Nadu, Tripura, West Bengal and Gujarat and other states. These states have their own identity and beautiful languages. I was born in UP but raised in Maharashtra. My heart beats for Maharashtra. My knowledge of Marathi is as good as any Maharashtrian. I can’t say this slogan because it doesn’t include Marathi. And I am sure that is the case with other states as well. The next is Hindu. When you say Hindu what about Musalmans, Christians, Sikhs, Jews, Parsis and other religions. They too are as Indian as a Hindu is. Being India is NOT being Hindu.

As per the religious census data of 2011, released by the Registrar General and Census Commissioner the total population in the country in 2011 was 121.09 crore.
Hindu population is 96.63 crore (79.8 percent); Muslim 17.22 crore (14.2 percent); Christian 2.78 crore (2.3 percent); Sikh 2.08 crore (1.7 percent); Buddhist 0.84 crore (0.7 percent); Jain 0.45 crore (0.4 percent), Other religions and persuasions (ORP) 0.79 crore (0.7 percent) and religion not stated 0.29 crore (0.2 percent).

The above statistics in itself show how much diversified we are and we must be proud of this diversity. Countries like Malaysia attract talent by stating their diverse culture. They have Chinese and Indians along with their local Malay population. Investments flow because investors know that a diverse country is a tolerant country and hence is a peaceful country. Development only accompanies peace. Instability can never lead to development. Hence, Hindu alone cannot give you the investment you are looking for.

I would never say ‘I am Hindustan’. This is a disrespect for the country and again a majoritarian view. I am part of Hindustan. If I am Hindustan and regressive then my Hindustan is regressive. If I am tolerant than my Hindustan is tolerant. If I am hurt my Hindustan is hurt. If I die my Hindustan dies. Hence, I am not Hindustan. I am part of Hindustan. I may not be a good person but that certainly is not Hindustan. My Hindustan is replete with diversity and loves its people equally; it doesn’t distinguish. It will never distinguish.

It is time we rethink about being a religious identity. We must grow over our prejudices and remember it is not cool to be secular but warm to be secular. Cool is religious identity. But being warm is secular. When you are warm towards your neighbours irrespective of their of faith, their caste or gender you are a secular person. A secular doesn’t show attitude unlike its cool comrades when confronted. On the contrary, it acknowledges when it makes a mistake and if not tries to reason yet in doing so a secular person doesn’t breath down the neck of another individual. In fact, if the other person doesn’t agree our warm secular is perfectly fine. After all, being secular is being warm and it, in turn, is understanding other people can have their point of view and we can live with these differences. A warm secular is one who jokes without offending other faiths and loves without boundaries. A warm secular doesn’t mind being pushed in the line, it happens sometimes. A warm secular resents when a woman is tortured and troubled. Our friend will support her in her fight and not question her credentials or analyze the circumstances of the crime in support of the perpetrators of the crime. A warm secular will apologize when required.

If being Hindu or any other faith is cool, let us spread warmth by being Secular. #letusmakesecularWARM

People generally say, be the Queen of your Universe. Of course, read it in the context of your gender. However, I would say always be an Alice. Because only Alice can see a wonderland in this mad, mad, mad, mad, mad world. I am Alice and the world is my wonderland. I don’t see the world through the glasses of realism. For me, the world is a monstrous although invisible carousel, rotating endlessly in the sea of time, showing us dazzling and at times gigantic miracles. Sometimes I feel hallucinatory in this magnificent carnival of life. And sometimes I am at ease, completely in control of this antique lunatic which truly drives everyone riding it crazy. Whatever it is, the world is forever my wonderland. And what better way than to celebrate every day as an exotic in this rotating quixotic.

The Alice in me gets fired up whenever the month of February rings the bell. I keep on waiting for the 9^th to descend so I can blow the candles. Being normal is overrated, I strive for abnormality in my life. Life isn’t about extraordinary achievements. It is the ordinariness which drives human beings towards happiness. Ordinary is not an adjective, it is an order. And for me being ordinary means being Alice which the world perceives as an abnormality but I see as a doorway to magic. Thus, my birthday cannot be a day event because the perfect yet imaginary jubilance is almost impossible to be contained in a day. I have, therefore, reconciled with the fact where people celebrate birthdays, I have to celebrate the birth week.

Welcome to my world. It is a −273.15°C world where normality and extraordinariness have reached their minimum value, which can be taken as 0. From here begins the merry-go-round of things. On the other days, I might be closer to this temperature but not exactly this temperature hence, being a little bit normal and trying to achieve extraordinary results erroneously enter my system. However, from the 5^th until the 9^th of Feb, my life hits an exact absolute with minimum annoyance, retaining only oddity and usualness, two almost opposite qualities which are also the irony of my life!

I make it a point to wear new clothes for 5 days because in my world vanity is not a sin. It is merely an excessive indulgence that a human can afford once a year. For me, vanity doesn’t just concede to the inners of the wardrobe alone but also to the inners of the gastrointestinal tract. These 5 days I definitely cook and if I can’t, I make a point to eat out. I cannot compromise on the lifestyle I have chosen for myself during my birth week.

My almost fatal enthusiasm hits its peak on the 9^th when I have to go with the flow. In sharp similarity to the rest of the days of my life, the 9^th of February is never planned. Every hour of the day is spent as it comes. And this is how it was this year as well. My friend had planned a sumptuously magnificent birthday celebration for me. A strawberry-flavoured ice cream cake with purple and sky blue coloured icing which was tasteless was a perfect start. The doll on the cake was a perfect embodiment of me, at least I would like to believe so. After cutting the cake and eating it too we decided to flow through the irrevocable and delicate moments of life.

The cake and the bow

The decoration all thanks to my friend

A closer look at the doll on the cake

The first stop was USJ summit mall. Friends and Beethoven, if you ever visit Malaysia and happen to visit shopping malls, please royally snub the USJ summit mall. It is a huge structure and has endless clothing options which, by the way, are meant only for those who have the perfect figure. We roamed aimlessly in the mall in the wan hope of finding any means to spend money. USJ summit disappointed us. From there we decided to go to Petaling Street, a local street market in Kaula Lumpur ideal for local and inexpensive shopping. We meandered through the market again in washed-out hope. However, it couldn’t be as dull as the mall. As we were traipsing through the market, a man made a crude and obnoxious yet poetic pass, “Hey sexy, you want a taxi.” I was amazed at the poetic skill of the lecherous, unshaven, dark-haired, black-bearded stout. I was on the verge of complimenting him on this poetic pass when my friend dragged me towards the other corner of the street.

We were now drifting on the far right side of the street which doesn’t matter as I cannot, even if I want to, describe Petaling Street. It is an almost claustrophobic street where vendors have set up more than a thousand shops leaving places only for you to walk. If you think you can stop and see an item on display, remember you’d result in a human traffic jam. This also means the street is forever jammed. The vendors almost whisper in your ears about their items. The Street is famous for the first copies of several ‘hi-fi’ brands. One of the vendors whispered in my ears, “Madam Jimmy Chunu. I have exact copies.” Obviously, he was in my territory and it was offending but his cutesy innuendo amazed me. His innocence was contagious and oh-so-cute. I know he was referring to Jimmy Choo. In the Indian subcontinent Choo or Chu, as they say, is slang for an abuse chutiya which the English world knows as the douchebag. This vendor, who looked like one from the subcontinent, perhaps thought it was derogatory to call the pompous designer Mr Jimmy a choo and out of respect made it chunu. Well, of course, I didn’t interview him but this is my best guess and I would like to believe this is the only noble thought in that vendor’s brain. When I shared this with my friend we broke into a chortle almost making the vendor uncomfortable.

Right opposite Petaling Street is Central Market which was established in 1888. It is a good place to be if you are interested in Indian handicrafts especially Pashmina from the serene lands of Kashmir. The prices of these handicrafts are outrageous but then remember you don’t have to fly down to Kashmir and buy them. They are readily available in the peaceful outlet of a market nestled away in one of the most famous cities of the world. They deserve the price they quote. Bargain. And since this is opposite to Petaling Street where bargaining is the most normal thing to do, you can carry the gesture further. Who knows you might get lucky. In the Central Market, there is an art corner where you’d be dumbfounded to see paintings which are exact photocopies of celebrities across the world. Indian movie stars were hanging out in almost every shop. There were landscapes done in acrylic and oil, there were portraits and sketches and pencil art and charcoal painting and what not. I saw a new form of Naïve Art that cannot be described in words. A different kind of painting which I haven’t seen before. But remember I am not a painting enthusiast. So perhaps this was always there, I just saw it for the first time. After soaking in the dry colors on the canvas we moved towards Kasturi Street which is connected to the Central Market. It is a good place to kill time and indulge in compulsive shopping.

As the sun moved to shine over the west, we decided to go home. It was time to close the birthweek. I wanted to dress up and have a lavish dinner. My friend agreed. We headed home to dress up. Like I said, vanity is not a sin in my world. You live once but you dress up daily until the time you die. I don’t want to die with a regret of not having dressed up properly on my birthday. After all, I would only get to live it the next year now. In a flowing blue skirt which was a contrast to the pink mini skirt, I had been touring the city in and bright yellow nettop I was the queen of the evening. We went to Bombay Palace a posh Indian restaurant in one of the most expensive areas of the city. We took a corner seat and observed the people in the restaurant. Nepal Embassy was there for dinner. I have to admit, Nepalese women are angelic. They are stunners dressed in sarees they could give actresses a run for their money. The men were equally gorgeous. Beauty is definitely treating to the eyes. Especially if seen from a distance. When you come closer and see the cracks on the surface and find out there are deeper cracks in the soul, you are left disappointed and tend to agree in the adage, beauty is skin deep. However, when you are at a distance you can appreciate the superficial. It is like you balance a healthy diet with a packet of chips sometimes.

And I thought the day was over. But it wasn’t my friend rounded it up with an ice cream cake again and this time in the restaurant. It was grand. We returned home and jumped into the couch admiring the night and binging on series. It was a poetic way to end the grand day of my life.

Throughout the day I was loaded with wishes on social media. I can’t thank people enough to wish me health, happiness, success, love on this day and forever.

Some people are inspirational. These people evoke motivation of the highest order. These are the kind of people whom the masses look up to. They are the ones who lead from the front. They are the ones who set an example. But what happens when these people quit? What happens when they don’t try enough? Think about this – what would have happened had Gandhi been not persuasive enough in his approach to deal with the British? Or Nehru would have thought to quit a newly created nation battling from every possible vice one can think of? Or Mrs. Gandhi wanting to quit because of increasing influx of migrants from the erstwhile East Pakistan? Or Abdul Hamid wanting to quit the war against Pakistan which had the ‘invincible’ Patton tanks deployed against India? Or Japan wanting to quit for it was reduced to rubbles in world war two, the greatest tragedy every inflicted on mankind?

None of the aforementioned examples quit. This how history is made. As much as I despise Churchill, I have to admit, his words, ‘Never, Never, Never Quit’, do ring a bell in my heart and soul. I have come to admire men and women who stand by the struggles they face, the failures they endure and yet seem aspirational enough to never quit. These are the people who make history. They become textbook examples for kids. They are the ones who are remembered; no matter the decade, no matter the era.

We have quite a few today in India. But the man I chose to talk about is Afroz Shah. He is no stranger to accolades. The man who single-handedly started the ocean cleaning movement in India was the perfect example to Tagore’s ekla chalo re. He inspired me. I never went and picked up garbage from the Versova beach but I ensured every beach I visited, India or Abroad, I never polluted. I even tried persuading my friends to not pollute it. This man was changing the way Indians saw the ocean. This man was making ripples in the ocean. He was writing history. I was dumbstruck by his dedication and pained at my own inability to lend a helping hand to the waves he had created. He inspired, nevertheless.

And today I read a silly tweet from his account – “Week 109 cleanup.Volunteers abused by goons for picking up garbage.Administrative lethargy,non-clearance of picked up garbage and abuses is what we are http://facing.World  largest beach cleanup is suspended.Tried my best and I failed.Forgive me my ocean and my country.” Really, Mr. Afroz this is all the steel you have? This is all the might you have? Forgive me my ocean and my country? No. No one is going to forgive you. You can’t start a revolution and then drift away asking for forgiveness. The slow social renaissance which India was seeing after 1772 cannot come to a halt because you chose to quit.

Why are you quitting, Mr. Shah? The reasons mentioned on logical Indian website are laughable, to say the least.

1. There are certain people who would sit on the beach and drink and cause a ruckus. They would litter the beach and would hurl abuses when somebody would try to clean it up – They are goons! Aren’t the goons supposed to do this? They are behaving themselves. The website also mentioned you asked them to say at least, Thank you! Were you in your senses? Why are you expecting thanks from people? You started this movement because you felt the pain of the ocean. Did the ocean tell you to thank you? Did the sand say thank you? No. But we recognize your efforts. You’ve been duly awarded by international organizations and you are a Facebook hero now! After all this, you asked goons to say thank you? Did Mahatma Phule who worked relentlessly for the upliftment of the poor and downtrodden expect thank you? Did Mahatma Gandhi ask for thanks for his contribution to the freedom struggle? Did any of the revolutionaries ask thanks for their involvement? It is surprising you wanted a thank you! Let me write about the story of Savitribai Phule who was abused and hit by cow dung and stone every day by the by passers en route the school where she used to teach the girls. In the beginning, she had no girl students. Later on, one girl joined. And then the number increased. Today Savitribai Phule is a radiant example of don’t quit. You have millions of followers, she had only the backing of her husband. You are well placed with the print, social and tv media. She had only herself. And for your awareness, she never asked to be thanked for it. Although I don’t think a simple thank you would suffice. That lady is was truly the Goddess of knowledge from whom we seek blessings. Thanking her is a part of our daily prayers.
2. Women workers have been chased with sticks. Even though complaints were made, no action was taken – Expose the officers to whom you’ve complained. With your power, it is impossible for these officers to escape. They will have to answer. The non-performing must go.
3. BMC officials blamed the citizens for not collecting the trash properly. They say that the garbage is full of sand, which is not how it can be collected. Sand needs to separate from the garbage first, for which the contractor needs to employ more people. Hence, the citizens should take care of that – Mr. Shah, BMC is right here. Garbage segregation is the call of the hour. For a person who takes a deep interest in Garbage segregation, I identify with the pain of the BMC here. The citizens in their zeal to clean the beach mess up while collecting the garbage. You have to understand the problems of BMC here. People need to be educated on garbage segregation before they start collecting the garbage. It is important to clean but we have to remember BMC will be disposing of the garbage. We have to ensure wet and dry waste is segregated. Bio-degradable and non-bio degradable waste are properly separated. You can’t just dump everything in a single bag and ask BMC to do the rest. BMC is right in disowning unsegregated garbage. Every responsible citizen should ensure proper ghettoization of garbage. Pollution is our common enemy and we should not fight it without proper preparation. Cleaning the ocean doesn’t mean dirtying the land. Every single bit has to be thought and delivered. Better still, involve even BMC in this change. The more the merrier.

If you cannot sustain the movement don’t start it. I say this because you’ve become a role model for millions and then one day their role model quits. What message are you giving by quitting? Do you know the teenagers who follow you adore you? Are you trying to pass the message of how impossible it is to work in a system like ours? Let me tell you, every system of any country you may think of gives resistance to change. Routine is monotony and people hate monotony but people despise change. We have all settled to being armchair politicians. You were a ray of hope in this country of blabbering citizens. But even you didn’t last long. When I think of you I compared your situation with Mahatma Gandhi. By the way, yours is much better than he was. In 1920 he started with non-cooperation movement which he had to withdraw post-Chauri Chaura. He didn’t quit. He started the civil disobedience movement, however, it failed to result in major concessions from the British. Yet he didn’t quit. He didn’t even post Quit India movement and when the nation was burning he became one-man army as Mountbatten famously called him.

Some people are made for history. Human beings are a product of circumstances far greater than themselves. Your circumstances have bestowed on you the path of greatness. Don’t quit traveling this untraveled road. It is bleak and perhaps darker than we know, but it is your journey. Your moment of glory will come traveling on this. India expects more from you. Don’t quit.

From,

An admirer of your work!

I have realized there are only two existent truths in the world – either you are ‘a giver’ or you are ‘a receiver’. This practically means either you are ‘a penis’ or you are ‘a vagina’. If you are a penis, you are a giver. This also means you are the all so-mighty and control the natural flow of events. You are almost God-Like. In the case, you are a penis from India – You are God (I am here blatantly referring to the festivals which idolize ‘the giver’). Just in the case, you are a receiver which means you are a vagina, you become the one who will be judged, analyzed, scrutinized and even punished. All because you are a receiver.

The ‘morality of the world’, from time immemorial, rests on the shoulders of ‘the receiver’. The giver can give any shit and the receiver will have to deal with it. Not only deal with it but also ensure it is practiced like a religion. Thus, the giver went on giving the receiver sermons on how to live and the receiver went on practicing ‘the art of living’. Worse the ‘archaic receivers’ developed ‘other receivers’ to give ‘new receivers’ discourse on this coveted practice of living. Thus, ‘the receiving world’ entered in to a web of entangled sermons, some of which contradict each other, which was practically the plan of ‘the giving world’. The receivers who became ‘givers to the receivers’ made this web of ‘giving and receiving’ more and more disheveled leading to chaos among the receivers.

Right from the time a vagina is born including the time it gives birth to another vagina or a penis, until the time it dies, a vagina is judged. Judged on the barometers of morality, ethics, values, tradition and culture. A vagina is judged for its color, its accent, its race, its shallowness, its depth, its intellect. A vagina is handed over a list of dos and don’ts which it continues to carry forward and live on with. A vagina is judged for everything it does or even if it doesn’t.

Feature this, if a vagina is having an affair with a married penis it becomes ‘characterless’. It becomes the ‘other vagina’ who should back out. Why, if I may ask? Why isn’t a penis judged? Why the ‘other vagina’ is labeled a home wrecker? Every time the receiver decides to opt for a giver, the receiver is judged for its choices!! It is seen with disdain and faces immense disgrace. The so-called society is ready to forgive the giver because, you guessed it right, ‘IT’ is a penis. But the receiver, by the virtue of being a vagina, becomes ‘the slut’. A tramp or a hooker or a whore whatever you like, you can call the receiver. However, the same is never applicable to the giver who in this case, is married. Wow! Such double standards have rocked the social formation for almost 5000 years now!

If a vagina swears a lot it shows lack of class and dignity. The same is never applicable to a penis. In fact, a ‘swearing penis’ is a sign of might even if it may not be right. This, however, can’t be thought about a vagina. You dare to swear and there you are labeled as unread, poor on vocabulary, unprofessional, dude,  attention seekers and the best one is ill-mannered. I swear, I swear because at times I feel suffocated by the sheer idiocy I am subjected to just because I happen to be one of the vaginas in a world of approximately 49.6% vaginas. Did you notice, we aren’t even a full 50%? That’s a second wow.

My third wow would be about vaginas being always body shamed. Whether a fat vagina or a thin vagina, a dark or a light colored vagina, a short or a tall vagina, a lipstick or a lip-gloss vagina – a vagina is always subjected to fine scrutiny. If you are a vagina you cannot disappoint the millions waiting for your first-look. You have to look fine and pretty and damsel-in-distress all the time. You can’t have armpit hair, you can’t have unshaven legs and arms, you can’t have brows which are thick like bushes, and you can’t go wrong with your hairstyle. Above all, you can’t be a red-lipstick vagina. Because if you wear red-lipstick with élan you are a tramp! Easy-peasy. I have this immense liking for the color red. I feel red is fire. Anyone must fear a vagina which can wear red effortlessly. These are the ones who care a fuck about what the world thinks about them. These are the ones who are labeled as ‘easy’ though they, perhaps might be tougher than trigonometry.

It is the vagina’s ultimate responsibility to ‘push’. If a vagina can’t push before 30 then there are a million articles dedicated on the internet to figure out what might happen. If a vagina decides not to push at all, automatically the labeling starts – independent, aggressive, fierce, blah blah. If a vagina wants to push but doesn’t want a married arrangement, life only becomes bitter. Such vaginas become low morale, unacceptable who corrupt the society. That would be my fourth wow.

I am not even talking about the vaginas who don’t want to get married or have divorced from penises who gave them everything but love. These vaginas are the ones who are ‘modern’ in the wrong sense. Ever noticed how the labelers will always ask a vagina, “But why did the penis leave you?” Notwithstanding the fact, the vagina might have just left the penis. But because we live in a society which idolizes penis, only a penis can leave a vagina and not the other way round. By now, I have stopped counting my ‘wows’.

A ‘career-oriented vagina’ is not only a threat to the world but also detrimental to its functioning. It is abhorrent like Tuberculosis. A formal preaching is scheduled on a daily basis to ensure ‘other vaginas’ stay away from a ‘career-conscious vagina’. Such vaginas can hurt deeply. If one gets in touch with ‘such vaginas’ one runs the risk of being rubbed off with self-respect, dignity, courage, intellect and wisdom. This can give rise to the clan of ‘thinking vaginas’ again a self-goal on the society. So a ‘career’ vagina becomes a threat to the society and every possible effort is taken to crush ‘such’ vaginas. For example, if a ‘career’ vagina has solved an operose problem, it believed the vagina ‘slept’ with the penis. For without having sex a vagina can never solve an issue. A vagina has to sleep to figure out its way to the top. It cannot be a self-starter for it lacks ‘intelligence’. And if you feel you have experienced this, welcome to the gang.

A vagina can never live without being labeled. These days a ‘thoughtful’ vagina is also labeled as a ‘feminist’. It holds no value to the society that a feminist is actually the one working for establishing an equal order. A society where penis and vagina can play equal parts. Where a receiver is as dignified as the giver. It is a pity when you see the society labeling these ‘fire-fighters’ as ‘femi-nazis’. What hurt most is fellow receivers calling out names to these social reformers.

In a society which judges you based on your pudenda, it is a pity if you are anything but a penis. This is not a rant. This is a fact, a fact with which vaginas live daily. A change is welcome but this change has to come from within. Even before ‘we’ call out to the ‘givers’ we must analyze our fellow ‘receivers’ to stop this nonsense scheme of things. This society which is filled with prejudice and repugnant thoughts, which abhors any equality in social order, which clamors together to drown any voice which talks about social-upliftment and betterment must understand, a vagina and penis have to work ‘hand-in-hand’. One without another is meaningless and purposeless.

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