Skip to main content

The Next Step

There are no absolute truths in life. What you may consider gospel, will be openly laughed at in other parts of the world. And vice versa. 

Humankind evolved because a few, wise (wo)men challenged the rules. Weary feet invented the wheel, frostbitten fingers discovered fire. Cultures and dynasties rose and fell. Empires ruled the world and mankind kept marching on. Civil wars, world wars, the rise of feminism, social media. Every day we have pioneers and philosophers asking questions, changing ideas. Seeking answers and welcoming the progress, those bring us.

As women, we have come so far. We are no longer considered frilly embellishments to a successful man. We are leaders and rulers in our own right and in a man’s world. But often, we are also our biggest critics. Resting on the laurels and hard work of our previous generations, it’s easy to forget that there’s still so much to do. So many minds to change. Respect, consent, boundaries. These words don’t mean what they did a 100 years ago. 


Our sons and daughters. Our husbands and parents. Even that mean old aunty in the neighboring flat and definitely the teachers shaping our children’s impressionable thoughts. They all need us to show them the way. When we fall, when we shrug off the pain and stand tall again- they’re watching. And learning. So we need to lead by example. 

The road is long and hard. But like someone once said, nothing worth having comes easy. And with Goddesses in very human forms by our side, I think it will be a rather splendid journey, don’t you?



Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Do Mice wear shoes?

The woman hitched up her skirt and continued kneading the dough. Her kids ran around, chasing each other in a quiet pantomime of the real game. They knew too well about bruises and broken bones - presents from their father if they were too loud. The woman cast a sour glance at her husband, asleep in the corner of their shack, his skinny chicken legs peeking out from under his discolored Long Johns.   Outside, the snowstorm raged on, driving the sky to an ugly gray color.   Rather like one of my bruises, the woman thought, with a little flash of anger. She rubbed the small of her   back (which still hadn’t recovered from the “rearrangement” her husband had done two winters ago).   “Mama Mama”, a little voice squeaked next to her.   “Da, my little p rintsessa ?” “Do mice wear shoes?”   The woman didn’t know what to make of that. Mice? In this Russian winter? Her first thought was the beating her husband would give her if he noticed any holes in his sweaters. Ivan di

Sssssh!

I have always been a wuss around creepy crawlies. Insects of all manner and snakes. Big problem for me. In fact, as a teenager in Mumbai, I often walked past snake charmers and their kind - mostly on Railway bridges and near temples. I took a wide detour every time I spotted a scaly head bobbing outside that wicker basket. To overcome my fear, I befriended a few of the snake charmers and much to my dismay, one of them invited me to touch her snake. I didn’t want to seem stupid. One shaky finger on the reptile and I promptly regretted everything. From then on, I have been a vocal opponent of all things slithering and I have often been accused of being rather a bore on the subject. The other night, I had finished watching a rather gory episode of the Walking Dead. Gut and brains everywhere and much bashing of zombie heads. Usually I sleep like a fat baby after my nightly zombie dose, but that night I had this intense nightmare. (You know how dreams are trippy? One minute you’re fli

The Cargo - Part 1.

The wispy shrub grew without too much fuss. Shy plant, Shame Plant, the Touch-Me-Not. Many names, for the same little fern who withdrew from the slightest touch. A soft breeze, a sudden movement - all of these made the plant fold inward. All it wanted - a handful of soil and a quiet corner of the land. In the early hours of a March dawn, Kalambhai stretched his burly arms and sniffed the air. Might rain today. The Tv predicted Thunderstorms for the entire state. He hoped that wouldn’t mess with the travel time. His clients were rich Europeans, and a bad review from them would not help his fledgling business. News traveled fast in their circles, and he always had goods to move. Almost time. Lajwanti should be ready with the lorry. Kalambhai was an atheist, but having a woman in his line of work? An absolute Godsend. Of course, she was ugly as sin, but he didn’t employ her for her looks now, did he? As he marched toward the large barn, he could see the gray blue fumes of the lorry