Sunday, March 08, 2015

Happy Women's Day, Man!

In the last few months, I have heard men communicate through media their expectations about us Indian women, including:

- The number of children we must produce
- What we ought to wear
- When must we return home in the evening
- The technology we should not use
- The gender we could be friends with
- The ideal response in case we are in the process of being raped


Once I overcome my initial judgment of disdain and disgust towards the men who make these statements (and the women who support them), I am aware of the huge sense of powerlessness in these men. This lack of power is so overwhelming that it makes them beg, borrow and steal it from the women around them, who in their eyes, is supremely powerful. And why not: she can give life, nurture it, be beautiful, be professional, celebrate her myriad roles and her sexuality and rule the world. The power of her womb fuels humanity.


Yes, man, I understand your powerlessness. You have no womb. However, you were formed in one. You will always have the womb energy of your mother available to you, should you choose to access your power. 


If you want to feel powerful, have the courage to nurture those around you, knowing that one day they will force their way out of this nurturing womb, tearing you in the process; but you will have co-created life.


If you want to experience power, accept the cycle of the womb and be brave enough to welcome pleasant emotions and unpleasant feelings. The womb is wise, it flows with the rhythm of the universe and knows that destruction is the first step of creation.


If you want to know your power, learn to respect choices. The womb does not grudge the choice of an unfertilised egg; it purges it and relentlessly moves on to release another egg in the next cycle. When a woman says no to you, man, learn to respect it. Rejection of your overtures does not make you small. What makes you small is your inability to accept the response.


No matter how much you try to control and force us, man, you will not be powerful. We women are powerful because we celebrate the woman in us by claiming our power, as much as we express the man in us through love. You, man, need to claim yourself first. Be man enough to love. And then, access the woman in you and dare to nurture, trust and respect. You will then know power.


Here’s to the woman in you, man… Happy women’s day! You need this day more than we do.

Friday, January 30, 2015

What did you die for, soldier?



This poem is a tribute to Col MN Rai of the Indian Army, and thousands of others soldiers who die around the world, hopefully believing a worthy cause. Col Rai’s daughter bid him farewell with the battle cry of his regiment. It made me wonder, will she grow up wanting revenge, or peace?

What did you die for, soldier?
Was it for your daughter
Who bid you farewell
With the battle cry of your regiment?
Was it for your fellow soldiers
Who responded to your daughter’s cry
And stood with her in solidarity?
Was it for the country
That decorated you with a medal
For guarding its borders?
Was it for me
A citizen you never knew,
Who wonders where her loyalties lie?
Am I disloyal to you soldier,
If I have friends across the border
And whose children are dear to me as my own?
Am I disrespecting you soldier,
For sharing a dream with these friends
For a borderless world?
I applaud your commitment soldier
But forgive me, I do not understand
What you were committed to.
Was it for a concept called India
Or against an idea called Pakistan?
I am proud of the land I come from
I am grateful to the Earth and her resources here
For making us who we are.
I am a product of the people of this land,
Cradled in its culture and nurtured in its values.
I am proud to claim my Indianness.
But forgive me, soldier
If my Indianness does not reject other identities.
I am sorry, soldier
But my loyalties do not lie
With two governments keeping a war alive
For reasons I cannot comprehend.
Did you die for the India in me, soldier
Or for the idea of India that is at war
Against a concept called Pakistan?
Countries are but notions
We created to embody ideas we reject in us
Are we a race that glorifies killing each other
Over mere ideas we do not accept?
I have a conundrum in me and no answers
But I pray that you rest in peace, soldier.
I hope, in your death,
You have given life to an idea of peace
In your daughter who cries for you.
I hope she learns to overcome
The idea of borders that killed you.