Fear of being a woman

Late last night, I was out at a friend’s gig, when I heard someone somewhere around me say ‘another rape, man; this time in Bombay’. I rolled my eyes and thought, ‘not again,’ and ignored it. I didn’t pause to find out more, I didn’t even pause to give it more than that first thought. As quickly as I could, I threw it out of my head.

This morning, on my way to work, I looked at my twitter timeline that was flooded with news of the #mumbaigangrape and as I read and read, I cried and cried.

I cried because I felt that girl’s pain (even if it was a fraction of it). I cried because I felt her fear. I cried because I felt MY fear. And I cried because I was ashamed.

I was ashamed that I hadn’t paid that comment last night any attention. I was ashamed because I threw away the thought that entered my mind. I was ashamed because I couldn’t even swallow or acknowledge what had happened.

I’ll tell you why I did it though- discarded the mention of that rape- no, it wasn't because I've become numb or indifferent. It was because if and when I let it sink in, the fear that goes down my spine is almost unbearable. It makes me want to go back in time to my mother’s womb, when they still hadn't figured out what my sex was. It makes me want to never do anything again. Never step out of the house, never dream, never dare to live. Because being a woman in this country, and to a large extent, in this world, is a curse. It’s one of those things that you just have to live with. As is the constant fear.

I ask my male friends, colleagues- do you know what it feels like? Most say ‘I’m sure it’s terrible,’ and make tsk tsk sympathetic noises (no disrespect to them). And some others honestly tell me with sadness in their eyes, that no, they can’t imagine what it feels like.

Well, I’ll tell you what it could feel like- it’s like walking in a lone street, in a strange country, where no one understands you or speaks your language, with your passport, your money and all that you consider yours in the middle of the night. All senses heightened, alert, knowing that you have to be extra careful until morning comes, and it’s safe again.

That’s what it feels like ALL the time for women. Except that there is no when morning comes.

We’re expected to be careful at all times. We’re expected, and do, watch our back at all times. Our sixth senses are on high alert, our eyes constantly making sure it’s taking in everything it possibly can in, and around, our periphery. Making sure there is nothing, and no man waiting to pounce at you, from the corner or from right out in front of you.

It’s so exhausting. It’s so nervewrecking. It’s disgusting, and depressing.

You put us on a pedestal and then drag us down. You make us the symbols of human future- the holy bearers of generations to come. And then you want to show us that in fact, you’re the one with the power- If you put us on that pedestal, then you can drag us down. You feel compelled almost, to prove to us that you’re superior.

I’m sick of it. Don’t put me on a pedestal. If I could give you my child bearing capacities, I would. If I could give you the empathy and the skill I have to bring up and nurture your children to carry forward your name into the future, I would. I’ll put you on the highest pedestal there is if you will leave me alone. I’ll put you on that pedestal if all that matters to you is that you come out glorious, more powerful and superior.

Please don’t glorify me, I beg you. Don’t call me holy, don’t think I’m better than you. I don’t want to live in constant fear of you raping me, taking away the only thing that you think will strip me naked and put me in my place. 

Ten things I’m terrified of in my 20s.

There are so many lists out there talking about the fabulous 20s, the puzzling 20s, and what have you. So I figured what’s one more. But this one’s about things that terrify me in my 20s about my future life.

1. I’m terrified that I’m losing out on time. Like the 20s are supposed to the best years- the ‘golden period’ if you must- where I’m paving, paving, paving the path for my soon to be illustrious future. And if don’t pave fast enough, I’ll never make that road, and then suddenly I’m 30 and then what will I walk on, omigod, I’ll be totally lost, and Omfg, omfg.

2. I’m terrified I’ll never live that travel dream I’ve dreamt of. People say travel young, travel young. And I’m terrified I’m making and saving all this money in my 20s only (not making that much money, actually) to forget the travel dream I had for later. I’m scared I’ll get caught up with other things like marriage, making money, and career paths.

3. Which brings me to... my career. I’m terrified I’ll never have the balls to do what I really want to do. I’m scared I’ll keep using the 20s to dream, dream, dream, stalling till the 30s, to do the ‘real thing I want to do’, and all that will end up being a sham because ‘logic’ ‘logistics’ or ‘reality’ will set in.

4. I’m scared that as I leave my 20s, I’ll become the person I always scoffed at- the person that always knows everything. That super closed minded person that probably thinks I’m a hippie, but he really, was the loser that lacked imagination. I’m terrified I’ll grow older to become that fool.

5. I’m terrified that post my 20s, I’ll want more, but in the most limited way possible. That my lists will grow longer, but only because they’re growing tighter. ‘I want my man to be a funny, non-smoking, open minded, non chauvinistic, scuba diving banker from an exotic country, who is generous and spoils me rotten, but also respects my independence...’ Or whatever, you know?

6. I’ve already noticed a lack of risk taking between now and when I was 17, so what’s to say I won’t become a paranoid person post my 20s, who’s like, ‘oh I don’t want to cycle through this gorgeous park because you know, I might fall and scrape my knee and it’ll be hurt for a whole week and the scab will be so ugly..’. You get the drift.

7. While I’m aware of the fact that I’m getting older, I’m acutely aware of the fact that my parents are getting older too. It almost seems like the minute I turn thirty, I’ll have to start giving serious thought to how to take care of them and make sure they’re okay. The thing about this is that, I’m not sure I’m ready to ‘take care’ of anyone, much less my beautiful parents, who I’ve constantly relied on for guidance and support. The thought of that role reversing is scary, more so because I’m terrified I might not not be as good at taking care of them as they have done for me.

8. I’m terrified I’ll always be selfish. So, this one is a little different- I’m terrified of something I am right now, that I really want to shed, and I think I may not be able to.

9. On the whole, I’m terrified of my entire identity changing when I’m not paying attention. I know it’s silly (which part of this paranoid list, isn’t?). Some people say we all evolve every 7 years; that if you look back seven years earlier, you’ll realise you were completely different. Still, I’m terrified of my identity changing and not having control over it.

10. Most of all, I’m terrified that the 20s might wear me down. That the disappointment I might face in this decade might make me cynical. Worse, it might cause me to settle, settle for less. And become that person that only lives from car loans to house loans, paying EMIs on everything I own and touch. Living a perfectly staid life, one that no one will remember. Not even me, when I look back at it. One in which I wouldn’t have realised my potential. One in which I’m just sheep.

The thing is though, I’m glad I’m terrified of all these things. Because that means I’ll try my damned hardest to focus on what I’ve dreamt for myself and avoid settling for anything else. I might change my mind, and I might change some of my priorities. But if I manage to retain my love for life and never settle for anything less than what I dreamed of as a child, a time when my dreams where the least diluted, then I think I’m sorted.

Catalogue #talesofacat

Here's picture story for a change. Below is my little Kittle in all his flamboyance, and fame.

We've had him for 5 months now, having rescued him from the streets (bless the power of twitter). He came to us as a Valentine's Day gift and what a little crazy gift he's been.

This is two month old kittle, when he first came to us. Funny story insert- we were told he was female. We named the poor bugger Ella and called him 'elegant' 'lady-like', and 'beautiful'. Two weeks into it, a visit to the vet and we had come back broken-hearted that we had to rename him (I love that name, Ella). He's now Garfunkle aka Garfy, and hopefully the awful memory of the two week gender confusion doesn't haunt him forever.

Garfy's obsession with teabags. I'm pretty sure one day when we're cleaning the nook and corners of the house we'll find Garfy's personal storage of these (ew!).

He's a lap-claiming, roaring like a lion (not), poser cat (more posu photos to follow- he fancies himself a model I'm sure).

It's almost like he's asking to be photogrpahed. He has these photo faces, just ready, pouting even.

We watch shows on my laptop together, my Kittle and I. And he still fits in my palm- he's a chipku one this fella. One of the friendliest fellas I met. 

Sometimes I'm convinced he's a dog- he rolls around like one and begs for food, and is destructive around the house.






















Sometimes I wonder if he's human- look at the way he's claimed my favourite beer chair.

And this is how I know he belongs with me :D

25 Wise Life-Learnings

I recently found read some pretty cool 'Life Learnings' that made me smile, smirk, and sad in equal measures. I found myself nodding and agreeing with most everything, but here are the ones that hit home hard. 

Btw, I found this from a really cool website. Some of the stuff in there is worth the read. Especially if, like me, you're one of those introspective (read over-analy-zy) types!

1. It is a hundred times more difficult to burn calories than to refrain from consuming them in the first place.
2. The cheapest and most expensive models are usually both bad deals.
3. A good nine out of ten bad things I’ve worried about never happened. A good nine out of ten bad things that did happen never occurred to me to worry about.
4. When you break promises to yourself, you feel terrible. When you make a habit of it, you begin to hate yourself.
5. You can’t change other people, and it’s rude to try.
6. If everyone in the TV show you’re watching is good-looking, it’s not worth watching.
7. Whenever you’re worried about what others will think of you, you’re really just worried about what you’ll think of you.
8. If you never doubt your beliefs, then you’re wrong a lot.
9. Nobody has it all figured out.
10. Whenever you hate something, it hates you back: people, situations and inanimate objects alike.
11. People embellish everything, as a rule.
12. Putting something off makes it instantly harder and scarier.
13. Nobody knows more than a minuscule fraction of what’s going on in the world. It’s just way too big for any one person to know it well.
14. Everyone you meet is better than you at something.
15. Knowledge is belief, nothing more.
16. There are not enough women in positions of power. The world has suffered from this deficit for a long time.
17. What makes human beings different from animals is that animals can be themselves with ease.
18. If you aren’t happy single, you won’t be happy in a relationship.
19. “Gut feeling” is not just a euphemism. Tension in the abdomen speaks volumes about how you truly feel about something, beyond all arguments and rationales.
20. It’s easy to make someone’s day just by being uncommonly pleasant to them
21. Nothing — ever — happens exactly like you pictured it.
22. It is worth re-trying foods that you didn’t like at first.
23. Anyone can be calmed in an instant by looking at the ocean or the stars.
24.  Life is a solo trip, but you’ll have lots of visitors. Some of them are long-term, most aren’t.

And one of my absolute favourites:

25. When you’re sick of your own life, that’s a good time to pick up a book.

When we find each other.

We throw these curve balls at each other
At incredible speed
Daring each other to catch
Or miss on purpose,

Like its a challenge
An impossible dream,
Thrown into reality.

The reality of you and me
The reality of us
The reality that flows like a river into the ocean,

That stops right before it meets
Only to be thrown back in,
Far far back

Into the memories of time
When immemorial people lived
And craved and died

A hundred deaths just like us
When we cried that day
When we cried that we had found each other that day.

Who?

Who does Money scream to
When it's passed around like a whore
From hand to hand?

Who does the Sun pray to
When its cup runneth over
And it needs advice?

Who does Smile grumble to
When its cheeks are red and jaws are burning
From a job overdone?

Who does Love complain to
When all it needs
Is someone to hold on to tonight?

You and I.

o baby

aren't you tired 

of the games we play,

You and I?

don't call me now

because I don't want to do

that tom and jerry thing,

not with You and I.

we speak in riddles

we don't speak at all

why do we do this,

You and I?

then we say too much

and hide it with too little

two little freaks we are,

You and I.

some days are great

some days so crap

i want to hit someone when i think 

of You and I.

we want to be together

we want to be alone

but confused is all we have,

You and I.

we push each other away

we pull a lot faster

but can we make it work,

You and I?

we don't have a name
and we're both just the same

maybe we're worth talking about,

You and I.