Boys don’t cry

If you asked me at 15 for exchanging my life for that of a man, I would grab the chance with both my hands. For longest period of time, I felt being man was so much easier. But today, I feel sorry for men. What! Am I bonkers? You will rub the gender pay gap in my face, the unfair […]

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Bread

Mixing, kneading has already been dusted.My weekend beauty sleep has been busted.That occasional clank of the pan withthe soft rattling rolling-pin.A warm doughy waft invites me in. The flour and oil, rolled into a ball so tender.A Phulka, a Paratha, a ghee laden Puran poli, I wonder.I enter nonchalantly and say,”What’s cooking?”Shrinking well below three feet when she says, ” […]

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#MeToo

#Metoo, Me three, Me fourLet the silences unschackle and make a way for an outpour. That brutal gaze, that unwanted touch, those lewd remarks,With a sly smile, mock laughter or those numerous fake pleas. In dark alleys, on morning runs,in a broad daylight bazaar, amidst ganpati processions. That builder in slippers on the train , the whats his name lad drowning in perfume at the bar, the man in a suit with a fancy car. Empty promises, emotional blackmail or unwarranted threats,Sober or drunk, in isolation or crowded streets. My chiffon sari, my friend’s floral dress, my sisters short skirtWill tell you the same story of vulnerability,Of burning rage, of unspoken words, of moral guilt trips, of repressed shame.Ofcourse, the person responsible wasOnly Me. With no safe place to disclose, hush your tone, what will They think, it happens, you will fall flat on your nose. Time we address a change and create an uproar.Because it has been MeToo, Me Three and Me Four. 17 October 2017

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