Monday, March 8, 2021

No, do not celebrate us on Women's Day!

Most women in India are struggling for their basic rights - right to food, hygiene, education, marriage and reproduction at will. We are a country where women are dropping out of schools after puberty because there are no toilets. There are women who are forced to undergo abortions till they produce a male child. Some of them, under-age and under-nourished, lose the battle and pass away.

In the posh lanes of our metros, domestic crimes against women are on a rise. The risk to mental health of women is at an all time high. Marital rape is common, and the screams of women who are abused, tortured are conveniently are even today, ignored by the neighbours.

It pains to see how the burning issues and requirements of women are trivialized. Media is neither reporting number of unsolved cases of crime against women, nor reporting stories of women who are struggling in the rural bylanes of the country, seeking help in breastfeeding, in bringing up their children, in supporting them if something happens to their husbands. Nobody is talking about the undernourished girls who do not get a fair share from the menu, because the stock is limited, and the best is reserved for their brothers. 

Urban India can be blind to the horrid condition of women in the deeper regions of the country. But even in the cities, why can't we focus on financial independence and career avenues, rather than painting a picture of the career women with a baby by her side and looking like a sacrificed goat. We need to think harder about what women want. 

'Treat her like a princess' is passé. Giving her special treatment in the corridors of patriarchy will not help. Let her free, educate and empower her, make her financially independent - now that is a message that we need. Not to be special, but to be equal. Not to be kind, loving, caring, amazing, super woman, but to be who we are.

Let them fly and see them soar

   In your vacant room, the lights are always on    But there is no one calling for food And as the door is always ajar I miss screaming, ‘o...