The price of her birth-Mom's dilemma of a worried future
The price of her infancy-dad's fatal acceptance
The price of her childhood-the Doll,far more unreal
The price of her adolescence-Fear of staining her dress red
The price of her young-adulthood-Fear of making wrong choices
The price of her early 20s-fear of Losing her virginity
The price of her mid 20s-fear of marriage
The price of being a woman-Drawing the wrath of her family,when she demands her freedom
The price of her career-chauvinistic bastards,she would never have
The price of her beauty-her body,much less who she is
The price of her 'cultured'ness-Wrap a saree,she trips in,
The price of her honesty-discomfort for a society ridden with chivalrous idioms
The price of her Being-fighting for what is due to her and being called a Feminist and not necessarily an egalitarian..
The price of womanhood-Need to produce the cultural I-card
Monday, February 22, 2010
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
faith found and lost and finding
The problem with blogging is, a lot of finesse is lost in the transition of thought from the mindspace to the blogspace...but,trying to overcome that, I find I can fairly retain the essence.
Its funny, how with age and experience, life finds its colours. I was a believer, a lover of God. I was spiritual(as some of my older posts would say), not so much religious. It was more of a naivette's faith, pretty unquestioned. After six months of coming in touch with people, who had different takes on the idea of religion and spirituality, its nice to introspect on how these discussions overt and covert have changed my faith and in turn, the person i was, or have they at all.
Actually, my experiences, some of them inexplicable, have formed a major part of my faith. Then, the privileges I was born to and the beautiful juxtaposition of things going perfectly well,with what I wanted them to be- All this contributed to the building of faith and then the understanding that events, desirable or otherwise,left behind lessons to be learnt made sure my faith became sustainable.
Today the picture is a little different. Questioning and becoming aware of what religion had done to me, I started becoming independent of its overpowering influences. Today it remains more of a punching bag, for all the injustice on levels of gender,socio-economic positions,distibution of privileges and opportunities, that I see around me. Is it a planned commotion that necessitates prayer?Even, peace of mind seems to be a gift of a few, not just the material riches.
While I write this, I am scared of being reprimanded by the divine(sarc). If it,at all is, it cannot be exclusive of me and my freewill. If it is, it cannot be fear-inducing. If it is, it has to be my friend. it must answer me.It cannot and is not perfect. why do I still feel like not giving up? Why I do want to still be a believer?Its still the beach I seek in distress. Its still the sound of the chimes of the Church and the peace inside it, I crave for. I have given it life and a meaning. It has ceased to be a stone anymore. The idols have come alive, when I have put my faith in it. I have played with them,prayed to them, cried before them. If thats the purpose they serve, they have served it well.
Its funny, how with age and experience, life finds its colours. I was a believer, a lover of God. I was spiritual(as some of my older posts would say), not so much religious. It was more of a naivette's faith, pretty unquestioned. After six months of coming in touch with people, who had different takes on the idea of religion and spirituality, its nice to introspect on how these discussions overt and covert have changed my faith and in turn, the person i was, or have they at all.
Actually, my experiences, some of them inexplicable, have formed a major part of my faith. Then, the privileges I was born to and the beautiful juxtaposition of things going perfectly well,with what I wanted them to be- All this contributed to the building of faith and then the understanding that events, desirable or otherwise,left behind lessons to be learnt made sure my faith became sustainable.
Today the picture is a little different. Questioning and becoming aware of what religion had done to me, I started becoming independent of its overpowering influences. Today it remains more of a punching bag, for all the injustice on levels of gender,socio-economic positions,distibution of privileges and opportunities, that I see around me. Is it a planned commotion that necessitates prayer?Even, peace of mind seems to be a gift of a few, not just the material riches.
While I write this, I am scared of being reprimanded by the divine(sarc). If it,at all is, it cannot be exclusive of me and my freewill. If it is, it cannot be fear-inducing. If it is, it has to be my friend. it must answer me.It cannot and is not perfect. why do I still feel like not giving up? Why I do want to still be a believer?Its still the beach I seek in distress. Its still the sound of the chimes of the Church and the peace inside it, I crave for. I have given it life and a meaning. It has ceased to be a stone anymore. The idols have come alive, when I have put my faith in it. I have played with them,prayed to them, cried before them. If thats the purpose they serve, they have served it well.
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