B - Being a woman

"Nirali ! Eat your ice cream soon, its melting and you are spoiling your new frock". She watched as the little girl's mom playfully reprimanded her daughter. Her sad eyes revealed some kind of pain. My little girl would have been this age, she thought. She still couldn't forgive herself for letting her husband kill her unborn daughter.

In some places, its a bane to be born a woman.
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She felt eyes piercing through her. Then there was a whistle and laughter. She didn't dare to look up, afraid of what she might have to see. She pulled down her dupatta a little, not knowing what was it that attracted the boys attention.

Everyday, a woman has to brave unwanted attention and the need to feel safe.

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She felt hands groping her behind. There were scores of people in the bus and she was skeptical to react. She moved forward a little in her seat, hoping he wouldn't be able to reach her. But the guy was persistent. She was scared. Should she just move to another seat? Should she call out for help?
She got up, turned around and slapped that man hard, shivering all along. Nobody could mess with her.

She thanked her mom for teaching her to stand up for herself.

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"Why are you taking that tablet mum?"
"Ah..nothing dear. Just feeling a little feverish." Brushing her sickness aside, she went about setting dinner for the family.

They wondered what gives her the strength to do all that she does for them.

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She had an important presentation to give that day, and there was absolutely no way she could skip work. No, not even a hurting stomach and a painful back. It was that time of the month again that she hated the most about being a woman. She cannot tell her boss, he being a he. He wouldn't understand. And a professional cannot give such lame excuses, can she ? Besides, this is a monthly story.

She put on a dark dress, stacked her purse with extra pads, popped a pain killer and set off. Her steps missing that confident gait, yet not stopping.

There are days when nobody has a clue what she is going through.

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The pile of clothes and dirty dishes in the sink seemed to mock at him. The bai had been coming everyday, and it beat the daylights out of him the way there is always so much more to do. He was beginning to get a headache, and the racket the kids were making was adding to his grievance. His rumbling stomach reminded him of dinner. He started to make an omelette. Realizing the kids might be hungry too, he left the pan to burn, warmed their milk and made some mac and cheese. The smoke from the pan caught his attention, and in that hurry, 2 droplets of water made their way to the sizzling oil. It began to spurt everywhere, pinching his finger in that frenzy. The microwave started to beep at the same time and he felt his head burst like a volcano inside. Instead, he crumbled, exhausted.

How did she do it all ? He felt a pang of guilt for not having appreciated her enough. And more importantly, he never checked if she needed any help.

Most of the times, her efforts to keep pieces together goes unnoticed.
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Everywhere, I saw women, young and old, in bright red shirts, unbuttoned at the top, exposing a good amount of cleavage. Being a woman, it pained me to see women being used as objects to lure men to their table. I didn't know who to blame. I tried to read their expressions but couldn't tell if it was their choice or if they had no choice.

While I was judging her, Rita looked gratefully at the generous tip the customer gave her. This would make the total $735. The money she had been saving up for a better life.

She is judged all the time. Even by her own gender.

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While I was writing this, I realized there were so many aspects to womanhood that a single post would hardly do any justice to what is being a woman all about. There is always so much more to be in awe of, to celebrate, and to understand. What I tried to do here is show her struggles in day-to-day life. How a woman has to endure and overcome various challenges that are thrown at her, some natural, some external, some from within herself.