Being a Woman & Making Most of It!

Being a woman fills your life with so, so many possibilities, that it is wrong if you ever hold yourself back on anything, conventional or unconventional to your gender. You were created as a woman. Yet you can be a man too (by the social description). You can be as much a man, as a man is. You can dress up in formals, earn in dollars, or be physically robust.

You can support your parents, be the decision maker, take complete charge of you and your life. But between these, just remember that you are a woman and there is still more to your identity. You can dress to kill, you have the luxury of wearing an array of colours, which men usually don’t have. Remember that style and fashion are dying to be on you.  Wearing make up and experimenting with your look, putting on shoes to sandals to stilettos is your birth right.

And there is nothing wrong in being a romantic. There is nothing wrong in dreaming, floating in reverie, talking about your girly sentiments, affections, excitements and passions. Burning away the concepts and ideas which have being ploughed into you as a girl. Wash away the ashes of social expectations and live independently on your wet dreams!

And yet this does not describe you completely. You have skills which you might love, but you will never be able to discover it, for some jerk once told you that it was too conventional to pursue it. And you believed that. Don’t stop working on an art which you like, just because someone tells you that its too conventional. Turn back and find out, what all have you left untouched, believing someone’s half baked ideas of reform and modernity.

I am a feminist. But that does not make me a man. I have tried my hands of every girly thing that has appealed to my aesthetic sense. And imbecile, thought-less people have hated me for my very obvious and evident girlishness. I cook, I stitch, I do embroidery, I dance, I play guitar, I am a green belter in Judo, and finicky about my beauty and style statement !

Just know, what you want from your life. And not let anyone else decide it for you. For only you know, how your heart beats. And there is no flaw in it. This is how god made it to beat. Follow its rhythm, rather than tuning it on some other music.

People who have heard words like independence, without reading it, forget about understanding it,  have also hated me. For they think that am not yet free of my gender. And there will be people who will hate you too, for your being “excessively” girlish. But if your stop there, and put a check on how you feel  towards shopping, fashion, make-up, laughing like crazy, being whimsical, sentimental,  and more so, of being yourself, just know, you are emancipated by no means. You are a slave to someone else’s ideas.

So, to all the girls who are a victim of someone else’s thoughts, I want to make a suggestion that just be yourself. Cook, eat, love children if you really love them, love nature if you really do, stitch, do embroidery, love simplicity, or keep adding spice to your look or just do whatever , if you actually love doing it!

A child is not a poem, a poem is not a child. there is no either/or

- Margaret Atwood

To Rage, or not to Rage, Is The Question!

Anger is bad. It is bad for health. Chuck the health! Anger is bad as a part of your personality. It also makes you unapproachable. And it is worse for people around you! I am angry when I am wronged. Angry might be a little too guiltless, too neutral word. Still, I am generally a very loving person. Everyone around me opts to confide in me,  and approach me for suggestions. But yes, I go mad in rage. I am a spitting fire when I am in rage. I ooze hatred and heat. Every inch of me feels the slithering flames of this fire. Every atom of me, throbs. My nerves, my blood vessels, throb. And yes, I come to feel all of these in my body, when I am angry. It is bad! I know it. Ask our doodle society, they will tell you that it is even worse, since as I am a girl. I am sure there are a lot of people who are  like me.

But why do people behave selfish, mean, deceitful if they hate my anger so much! I wouldn’t care what my no-kith or kin thought about me. I don’t give a straw to what rattles in her/his. But if it is coming from someone I care for, I shout out loud and shriekier. If you have read ‘Mill on the Floss’, or ‘Jane Eyre’, I swear you know me in and out. The way I was able to relate with Maggi and Jane , I have never related with any other character real or fictional. Just like Jane  calls out, “Unjust! Says my reason!!” I shriek, I cry. Just like Maggi, I fail to understand why people behave the way they do. Why can we not live our own lives, in our own little space. Because people love to nag? They love to take more interest in others’ lives than their own. And I swear if they did take interest in their own lives, their’s wouldn’t be so rotting and sulking. SO full of grudges and accusations spitted on others. I at least believe in myself and my own decisions. Wherever I stand today, I take full responsibility and credit of it. I have no one to hold responsible.

Though, I agree that I need to mend my temper. I need to mellow down to other’s nonsense and rather choose to dodge it. Embarrassingly, I have shouted on many, ever since I stepped into youth. My first victims were my college mates. I have never been able to reconcile with a few of them. And the lot that stayed with me, I absolutely love you people! Today when I look back, I realise that everyone is struggling to create her/his own impression. Most of the people consider themselves losers, and internally keep repeating that they are the success masters. Trying it hard, till they see this happening. Till they read it in other’s eyes, till they hear it from others.. I don’t hold a grudge against anyone, once the anger passes away. I realise, I know, it’s that neither I, nor no one else has a right to be angry. It’s a kind of sin. A sin. As you are failing to understand that the other person is weak. Failing to accept that we all err.

My next victim was my boss from my first office. He was a pro at handling me. When I would be angry, he would not let me speak. He would just stare into my eyes and tell me to calm down. He had those snake like, piercing eyes which enter into you. As my eyes burnt in rage, his piercing eyes  and his tact of not letting me speak!<&%(&*!! would put me in place. He is probably the only person after my dad, who has been able to put in place.

Being angry is not good. Neither for you, nor for people trying to survive around you. I have picked up a habit of writing, when I am angry. Instead of spitting rage on someone, it is better to rant unimaginably self-obsessed piece of writing, on your blog.

Thanks if you actually read it till the end. :) If you have any opinion about my crazy, self centered piece, do drop it in the comment box and then leave.