Who says “Stop Crying. You are big enough.”? instead of ” Come, here. It will be fine.” Well, family. I guess family does that.

*Note to self – Just because I am 18, means I am not eligible to cry; means I have surpassed the phase of being capable of feeling emotions and being capable of letting out my anger; means even if I am crying randomly without any reason I have committed a sin.

Crying is a sign of weakness, a sign of giving up, a sign of submission to adversaries, a sign of being dominated by your emotions. It is a sign that you are still human, isn’t it? And being human is itself a sin. *

Thank you for telling me I am big enough to not to cry.

For now I realize that my problems are big that make me want to cry

and I realize that my problems are not just anything,

but something from which my tear glands shed out tears

from which I will learn something.

Thank You.


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Fragile Masculinity

Recently I read and article by Buzzfeed UK about the fragility and sheer insecurity of masculinity that we all (not only men) have. You can take a look at it by clicking here.

While I was reading it, I was wondering that how the whole process works. Commodities, advertising, the falsified notions, men and women buying these projections, notions into practice, practice into daily routine, routine into culture and so on. I mean, come on? I can’t help but thinking about the shallow notions made by the society of what masculine and feminine nature  should be. And the worst part is that: These two notions DO NOT exist independently. Their sphere of working collides, and realistically, it is against women.

Coincidentally, I had another experience Today to make me believe how far we have fallen into these traps of demarcation of features and characteristics called essentialism. Men have to be controlling,dominating, ruthless and, women have to be supportive, submissive, and innocent-like. I am cent percent sure that these are the notions not believed by many of us ( at least that is what I hope for); but the embedded nature harnessed and seeded by the society  brings out these.

As I was telling earlier, I had an experience as an evidence of this.

I am currently working in a project which off course has Women and Men alike. The Head is a man, and I am working under his supervision. Let’s name that person A for convenience. ( I mean I have to be mysterious and all cliched like, right?) So, A is a person I have made acquaintance with and seems pretty amiable. He keeps on giving all of us subordinate to him importance by saying that the project is not his but all of ours, and we are equal to him. I do not believe this, because come on, I am being paid for a task for that project, it is not as if that particular project is my brain-child or I will be there permanently throughout. But that doesn’t mean that we are not attached to the project.

So, one day, A had to contact me for some directions and all. And what i nightmare it was. I mean the nightmare that I as a girl hadn’t thought about until now. I was being cutoff in the middle of my sentences, I was being mainspalined, my voice was being overpowered by his loud volume, my views were dismissed as if being like that of a peasant. And let me get this thing straight, except for the positions in the project, everything between us is equal like, age, talent, capabilities. I mean dude, I was just giving my opinion on the project; did my opinion just hurt your masculinity so much that you had to behave like this. I am so sorry for you.

I had a thought about leaving that said project, but on second thoughts I have decided to stay. Not because, I am getting paid, or not because I am going to put up with this behavior but because, the next time this happens, I am going to speak the words I have written here, and then leave.

Why is it so hard to accept that women can have opinions as good and even much better than yours, men? Even if they are not brilliant according to you can you just stop dehumanizing them?


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Delving into the Reality

Sometimes when happiness is all I can feel

I, just like a cynic, wonder

When will Pain and Tragedy

Make me kneel

in front of them

Shattered and Broken


Then Sometimes when I am too into reality

I, just like a child, wonder

When will my life be engulfed

into fantasy


Cause I sometimes wish,

that the power of imagination could overcome

the pain of reality..

I am Rational

But It ain’t enough

I am Two-Faced

But is not enough

I am what the world wants me to be

But, apparently, it is not enough

Because Somewhere deep down

I wish that people were what they claim to be

But that itself is a fantasy, right?



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No Title

As a write this piece

With no title currently

I pledge to complete it

Not like the other drafts lying there like unfulfilled dreams


As I type this line

I think what to write next

as the feelings that are churning inside me

are the ones familiar but still seeming new


As I write this line

I pause for a moment

One.Two. Three.

I wish I had taken a pause in my life too


As I write this line

I am sure of what to write next

I type one word, 5 alphabets



The word that seemed too unlikely in my life

The word that ‘is’ unlikely in my life

The word that was removed from my life by me

And now the consequences are bared by me


Its is ironical that the each sentence ended with ‘Me’

For it is the allegation against me

That I put nothing above me

And again, you see?


I am brave to admit that yes the above is true

For the person who says it

‘Held’ a lot of value

A value that could be equated with worship

A value that now has reduced to just ‘existence’

or is it?


They say, I am a loner

But can they see that

It is not me who is standing alone

For it is them who wont accept me

But I accept myself. I embrace myself.


They say, I don’t talk

But can they see that

It was them who called me stupid

When I opened my mouth

But I don’t agree with them

For I think, at least.


They say I don’t obey

But can they see that

The authority is misguided

For the authority is a complete different person.


They say I am ambitious

They say I am selfish

Just one thing to say

And I say, ‘you call me loner, you call me a rebel, you call me mute’

What else you would expect from a person like that?


As I stop writing the above question

I retrace my steps

I think again

I wish things hadn’t turn out to be the way they are

I wish I had taken a pause

But then, I remind myself

Even the piece you have written has no title, currently

Don’t give your life a title.





It is brutal out there

“I’d like to consider myself as a powerful woman”, she said, with hope of becoming one truly and completely. She watched, observed, noted down, and dreamed of being that woman, who has that icy stare, yet approachable face and that tall, proud yet humble posture. Yes, a paradox. Possible or not?

As she transitioned from her fantasy land to a land where her fantasies could be realized, she retrospected her goal in life, her personality and the people surrounding her. Enthusiastic and realistic, strategic and yet adventurous; she took that leap of faith and proved she was worthy of being strong.

But just like any story, as the fate dawned upon her, just one thought remained – It is brutal out there. “I am powerful, but am I powerful enough. I am strong, but am I strong enough. I am the person I want myself to be, but am I that person truly, deep down?” Yes, a paradox. And, it is possible.

Letter to every mother from a regretting child on this Mothers Day

Dear Mumma

I write this letter not to wish you a mother’s day. I write to feel sorry that you have to live this day where your children are supposed to thank you; and they do thank you, but yet they do not value you. I rather be straightforward because I know now your time is precious. You live each second of your day to fulfill the needs of your children. You might be preparing food for them now, or maybe dropping them off to school, thinking about how to let your rebellious teen know that you still do care about them, or maybe to get a makeover so that your children know that you are keeping up with the ‘modern times’, even if the cost is completely forgetting yourself and your comfort.

We are fortunate that we got technology. But you leave this to our materialistic tendencies that we use to share our life and not express it. I opened my instagram today, and I found my feed full of People kissing/hugging their mothers with hashtags #mothersday #loveyoumom #nothingwithoutyou became an instant popular item. I do not intend to project that I am against such posts because nothing is wrong in that. I am against, what I call, the hypocritical posts.

I am sorry that your children  are only concerned with the filter to put on instagram so that your imperfections get unnoticed and they get to prove that their momma is as cool as ever. I am sorry that they are concerned only with the likes and retweets on your picture with them. I am sorry that they invest their love and time for you into things that do not matter and do not make ‘Real Memories’.

Off course, not every child is like that. If he expresses your love with even a simple thing as much as a hug or a kiss or lending a hand with the laundry or even asking you about your feelings, I consider that child lucky as he got to make memories that will make him smile after whatsoever when year he might not be able to be with you or you might not be able to be with him.

This is to every mother whether or not she experienced the above, whether she received a hug, kiss, card, a gift, a social media post, or just a letter like this because you might be reading this miles away from where I am now.

Mumma, you are strong as anyone can ever be for us and all the people that are a part of your life. And I do know that it might happen that this token of appreciation and tons of love might not do anything as you will continue to love and care for us even if we forget to wish you. But, I believe that every once in a while you need to know that you can be open with your children, it is okay to express yourself, because anyone can provide you with the things that money can buy but  I want to give you my time, my ear, and my heart to understand you, feel you, and make you feel that I am there for you no matter what.



I am a 17 year old living in a country where the sole definition of anything isn’t uniform. I live in India – Where even though it was called ‘Hindustan’ in ancient times, today Hindus live along with Muslims, Sikhs, Christians, Buddhists, Parsis, and many more religions and even atheists; where the history of the orthodox patriarchal society is being challenged, where the once hopeless are now taking up the daunting tasks to put their heats and show the world what they got.But this blog is about something that was a part of a recent intense discussion that I had with another person.

India has been defamed recurrently of being unsafe for women both foreign and native, and unfortunately the statistics do provide a speck of truth to it. But why is it?.. is the prime question around which we both exchanged a lot of heat.

Feminism in its basic meaning advocates for women empowerment in every sphere and I proudly claim myself as a feminist but for the right reasons only. It is presumptive to myriad of people that it is about the belief that women have which says,”WOMEN are BETTER than MEN!” only few people understand that it is not about dominance of only one sex.

It is more about the rare belief that says, “WOMEN are equal to MEN, IT IS ABOUT TIME to treat us like equals!”

But this then points out to the common belief, in India particularly, projected by the much more orthodox sections of the society that still  believe in the virtues of a patriarchal society: It is this belief that is the reason that crimes against the women are performed.

According to them, women try to bridge the biological and social differences that were made and created for a particular reason. For them it is not justified that women wear jeans, skirts, tops or anything that is not a kurta or a saree!

For them, it is the openness of the society in communication, the open minds, the liberal minds, the minds that want to take risks, that want to get what they rightly deserve, the minds that do not fear  to challenge the norms.

Agreed, that yes, there are biological and social differences. It would be succumbing to cowardliness to avoid the fact that there are some things that women have much more difficulty in doing than men; like even till now we cannot roam at midnight without being catcalled; it is a common attitude that it is the woman who is the home maker and the man a bread winner, it is difficult for women to make a mark righteously in the cruel word.

But more than this it would be succumbing to ignorance if we believe that these differences are impossible to overcome. It would be sheer foolishness and doubt in the courage that women possess to believe that we are unequal for a reason.


After all, It all comes down to acceptance and respect for each other.


The Family Curse

The mother pitied .

Pitied her Husbands’s fate.

Made to absorb but not to release.

Just to rein the tornado inside and never speak against, ever again.

She empathized and sympathized.

Took the decision to not let the Family Curse be bequeathed.

But what she didn’t realize

She had another child.

A child made to inherit the curse so that

the other could live without it.

So the curse continued

And this time it was Not her husband’s legacy

It was hers.



When Malala Yousefzai Proved me Wrong

Yesterday  I finally decided to watch the much appraised documentary – He Named Me Malala.

Whenever i think about the ‘Advocate for Girl’s Education’ that is nearly my age I go back to that time in 2013 when her bravery was on the headlines of every newspaper. She was shot in her face on the left side by the terrorist organisation that was named  The Taliban.


At that time I was not much informed about the situations in which Pakistan was engulfed, the life of people where terrorism was prominent, their hardships and their suppression. I was an ignorant. At that time I had dared to assume that Malala was just an ordinary girl. I had thought that

 She was just any GIRL who just got lucky. Got lucky to be famous and had got the attention of the media by chance.

I had never taken her bravery, her work, her contribution to the right cause in an appreciable perspective. I attributed her work as just mere chance, nothing else.

In 3 years my view has changed 180°. Now she is an inspiration to me. I see her as a role model. But it would be unbelievable if I didn’t tell you the reason for this change of attitude.

Off course, my level of knowledge about this cause helped me to understand the situation better but more than that the utmost reason that became a true follower of Malala happened much more recently.

I had been gifted the novel ‘I am Malala’ by my school due to my excellent contribution to the school. I had started reading it much more recently after i knew I would be able to accept what the novel was to offer me with an open mind. My curiosity led me to watch the documentary I mentioned above.


In the documentary there was a small section that said a lot. It showed those people who just like me in 2013 thought of her work as fake.

It was quite ironical to show that segment just after her whole life full of suffering, hard work and most importantly perseverance was depicted.

I had my attitude changed especially after I realized the irony above. So I made it a point write this blog. Even if no one reads it, it would satisfy me. After all, Malala proved me wrong, for the good.

Malala was indeed an ordinary girl but with extraordinary courage to lead a cause with such gravity.