You know what harassment looks like?

You know what harassment looks like?

A 13 year old girl followed home from the rickshaw stand by a labourer on a cycle.

You know what harassment looks like?

A 14 year old girl followed from her home to her tuition by a fat man making lewd gestures with his fingers near his crotch. 

You know what harassment looks like?

A 14 year old girl too scared to go back to her tuition. 

You know what harassment looks like?

A man trying to get a feel of a teen's breasts in a 5 minutes auto ride after dark.

You know what harassment looks like?

Not having the option of getting down from the auto because you're too scared about not getting any other transportation back home.

You know what harassment looks like?

 Having your breasts compared to melons

You know what harassment looks like?

Having to hear young boys sing "pee loon " as you walk down the road.

You know what harassment looks like?

Hating the songs for ages after that

You know what harassment looks like?

Having to change routes because it's dark and you're walking home alone. 

You know what harassment looks like?

Feeling unsafe in your lane when one of the street lights breaks down. 

You know what harassment looks like?

 Men and women staring at your cleavage

You know what harassment looks like?

Feeling the need to cover up  your cleavage.

You know what harassment looks like?

Covering your face with your bag because some random guys have started clicking pictures of your girls with their phones at your bus stand.

You know what harassment looks like?

Having to do that everyday.

You know what harassment looks like?

Knowing your sister will be harassed and she's barely 10.

You know what harassment looks like?

Coming back home to hear your 11 year old sister recount her scary story of how she was followed home from the bus stand. 

You know what harassment looks like?

Witnessing the same fat guy that followed you ages ago, masturbating outside your house.

You know what harassment looks like?

Instinctively knowing that the fat guy probably harasses the students of the all girls school opposite your home. 

 
You know what harassment looks like?

Having to explain what harassment looks like.

You know what harassment looks like?

The fatigue from the countless times you've explained what harassment looks like. 


Street harassment is something all women are handed on a ready plate and told to deal with. Because, "men will be men" and "such is a women's life"; so on and so forth. 

This post is completely based on my and my sister's experiences. 

Most women will relate. A few men will try to imagine. Some will understand. Most men will dismiss it as another write up by a bitchy, whining women who thinks her life sucks.






 

Are we done with Barbie bashing?

Barbie is after all, merely a toy!

I wish people would stop criticizing Barbie.

I used to love playing with her. She was such a big part of the first 7 years of my childhood and I have some very good memories of playing with her

I didn't notice her perfect figure and I am sure it had nothing to do with my body image. ( That I entirely attribute to movies, magazines and media AND my low self esteem as a teen. ) I feel that blaming the Barbie for body image issues is a little extreme.

You forget that the barbie has been a pilot, president, doctor among other professions. I know her figure is a topic of controversy- a thin waist, big boobs; her figure is certainly not very “real”. There are many things children play with that do not correspond with real life. And that is the whole point! It’s not real! It was never supposed to be. It’s a toy for God’s sake!

I have a problem with outrage at everything. Or maybe it is my attachment to barbie that is making me biased. I am open to a conversation.

How a kid perceive a toy ( or anything) depends on the individual.

 I feel the nature/nurture argument plays a definite role here. I grew up in a relatively equal environment. I didn’t face any discrimination based on gender at my home front. My parents gave me the choice to choose the toys I wanted to play with. I had constructions sets AND barbies. Toy trains AND kitchen sets. I had gender neutral toys (Most toys available then were gender neutral, this pink/blue things is a recent trend.) I have educative toys.

I experimented with my Barbie, I colored their hair black with my marker; I made them kiss each other ( didn't know anything about LGBT at that point, though.) I forced my mom to stitch clothes for them. Playing with barbies, making up stories fueled my imagination. So don’t dismiss barbies just yet.

 Exposure to unrealistic beauty standards is  harmful.   

I am not claiming to be an expert on how much of a role Barbie has to play in this. I just feel that maybe we’re reading too much into a simple doll that gave (and gives ) so much joy to so many kids out there.

So here’s my foolish request. No it’s a plea. ( I know it won’t change anything, but still) Please stop with the barbie bashing, already!

P. S : I scoured the Internet (sort of) and found many articles about the barbie controversy. If you hate barbie and want it banned from toysphere here's one for you Barbie bashing. And here's one here too. 

And if you're a former Barbie fan girl like me here's one for you- Barbie loving and here's one here too. 

To weigh or not. That is the question

After years of body issues I looked myself at the mirror today and exclaimed "I am thin!". Not that I was fat before but I always fell under the 'slim" category  A category made by popular media to categorise  people who were not fat and  were neither thin as a stick. I always had a thin waist but because of my  heavy upper body I could never call myself 'thin'. Even if I looked at myself in the mirror and thought for a moment that maybe, just maybe I am thin I would be reminded by the media that I have curves which prevented me from being called 'thin'. 

I realise that I am thinner than most people I thought were thinner than me. I have been delusional about my weight for so many years. 

Because of street harassers and because of  the media I was subjugated to I was ashamed of my body. Ashamed of how I looked. Today I can look into the mirror and be happy about my figure.  It's true that I have somehow lost a few inches in the last year but that surely is not my biggest achievement. 

No matter how much weight I lose my body type won't change. There was a time when I wanted it to. Now I don't. I have accepted myself the way I am. I don't care if the popular social culture hasn't. Yes, I want to exercise and yes I want to avoid junk food and have a healthier lifestyle. But that has nothing to do with me losing weight. I have discovered the joys of walking and I don't want any heart problems in the future. 

Honestly? I am scared.

I don't want to get raped. I don't want to carry a pepper spray.

I am not even angry. I am just scared.  What if I get raped? Rape is scarier than most people realise. 

I don't want people telling me how to be safe. What to do so that I don't end up facing such trauma. What to wear, where not to go. Please stop doing that. Just start telling men not to rape. Tell your brothers. Tell your friends. Tell your fathers. Remind them everyday. Teach kids in school. Tell them to talk about it openly. Regularly.   I feel, this should become an important part of everyone's education. 

Men need to come out in the streets to give support to the woman in their lives. 

And yes, understand this. Media adds to rape culture. You favourite actor pinching his heroine's butt; your favourite rapper objectifying woman; men in movies not taking no for an answer; all of them encourage this culture of sexual objectification of woman. Unless we stop objectifying woman, rapes will keep on happening. 

Do you know what causes rape? Rapists. 


How long will the outrage in the media last? One week? A month? Learn to be outraged everyday. By lewd comments, by stares, by catcalls, by unwanted attention. Protest at the smallest instance of sexual harassment. Talk about it. Start a debate. Tell people-"I got harassed. It's wrong and I am outraged. I will not stand it."


Today I make a promise to point out every instance of objectification. I will not keep quiet. I will shout, if I have to. I will not shut up, even if people give me looks. 

Steaming and in your face. 

Because I want a safe world for all of us. 

Ideally

Ideally I should be able to walk from point A to point B without being subjected to a single cat call,  comment or whistle. Without a single stare. Ideally I shouldn't have to worry about this when I step out of the house. I should not have to think twice before getting onto a crowded bus, because some man may "accidentally touch my breasts or behind. I should not have to worry about some guy following me. 

And when it's dark and I am walking back home I should not be scared that an unknown face will try to thrust his penis into my vagina even though I was repeatedly shouting "No". I should not have to worry about the police telling me-"You asked for it." Or some woman telling me I was wearing the wrong clothes or took the wrong route. Or the uncle across the road questioning my lifestyle. Ideally.

I am tired off explaining that you should not question the victim but the rapist. Catch the criminal, don't victimise the person going through the trauma of being raped. Set your priorities straight.

Safety. The right that most cis-heterosexual men get but which everybody else has to fight for.  I want to be safe without having to fight for it. 

It's not that complicated, you know. 

J: So J

Jealousy is  an inevitable sentiment in any relationship. It’s funny when your friends get jealous if they see you close to other people. It’s cute when your boyfriend is jealous when you talk too much about this cool guy who happens to be a friend. But when jealousy turns into possessiveness, it’s time to see red.

There is a very thin line between being possessive and being jealous. Many a times,  it is not apparent that  the line has been crossed. Possessiveness sometimes translates to having the desire to control the other person’s action and the need to dominate. Often it is the result of deep-rooted chauvinism .

Possessiveness is something I cannot tolerate.  No one can control my actions, no matter how much he or she loves me. Possessiveness is not a sign of love. It’s a sign of a desire to own someone. In a romantic relationship, one partner may show a desire to decide what their partner wears, a desire to know where their partner is going, who he or she is meeting; there is a need to know what their partner is doing at every minute. In extreme cases, there is a desire to dictate what one’s partner should do; all the time.

In many cases both partners are possessive. In most cases(here I am citing straight relationships) the male is possessive about his partner. His partner may not have male associates, friends; his partner may not decide what to wear or where to go on her own. In such cases of extreme possessiveness violence is also involved. Obviously, such relationships are unhealthy.

In cases of parent-child relationships if parents are too possessive of their children; it will hinder their personal growth as an individual. After a certain age it is necessary for children to learn to make their own decisions. If they are not allowed to do so,  it will lead to clingyness and unhealthy dependency. Such dependency will again deter the person from being able to move on and learn to live if and when their parents expire.  Such people fail to have normal relationships with other people. They also may need counseling or psychological help.

Jealousy on the other hand, does not do much harm. Unless ofcourse it’s envy. The green eyed monster. Though envy is a synonym of jealousy, it is a more intense emotion. Envy. So many things have been written about envy. So many poems and plays are based on this emotion. Woman are said to have mastered the art of being envious. A very stereotypical view, I must add. It’s a lot of things. Resent. Spite. Even hatred. Jealousy seems, less complicated, less harmful. 

Semantics define jealousy as the base emotion which may give birth to possessiveness and envy. Its like a river with two distributaries.

It's fascinating that one emotion can imply so many different things.  They have different undertones at different times they are used. Emotions are complicated, ain't they? And language is an amazing thing. 

G:Girly and gay

Girly seems like an alien word to me. Not that I am not feminine. But whenever I hear the word girly I feel as if I am not matching up to the image.

Who decides what is girly and what is not anyway? And why do I have to to follow the stereotypical image of girls that everyone has. Why do others get to decide how feminine I have to be? I get to decide that. Decisions about my body ; how I want it to look and what I want to do with it are mine and mine alone.

I don’t like stereotypes. I absolutely hate it when people judge anyone on the basis of stereotypes. Stereotypes about gender can cause unequal and unfair treatment because of a person’s gender.

Society has certain expectations about how we should act as men and woman. Gender is supposed to be neatly divided into two categories. If you are a man you do this; if you are a woman you do this. 

Guys don't ask for directions. They cant cook. They are messy. Girls need help picking up stuff. They like flowers and cheesy gestures.

Our cultures teach women and men to be the opposite of each other in many ways. The truth is that we are more alike than different.

The problem with gender stereotypes is that they are so deep-rooted  in us that we don’t even realise it.  We fall in the trap as soon as a baby is born. It’s as simple as buying a pink jumpsuit for a new born girl and a blue one for a boy. It’s as early as a  nurse announcing “it’s a girl” or “it’s a boy” instead of just saying “it’s a healthy baby.”

Even though it's not  easy to change that mindset, there is no harm in trying.  The few of us who do not believe in gender stereotypes should set examples. Respect people, regardless of their gender, gender roles and gender identities. Point out gender stereotypes when you spot them. Challenge sexist jokes and remarks.  Break out of the stereotype. Do something not normally expected of your gender. 

No matter who you are, what gender you identify with; you should be able to be yourself without being judged. If I am less "girly" than other woman I should not have to  think about matching up to that image. My appearance, my personality traits,my occupation do not need to follow the standard set by the society for my gender. I should not be afraid of  being happy, the way I am. Regardless of what society thinks I should be. 

"You would be pretty if..."

The following has not been written by me. I just wanted to share this article with whoever cares to read my blog. I found this online when I was looking for some food for thought for 20 something girls of my college. We are constantly been told..."You would be pretty if you lost weight"; "You would be pretty if you had longer hair." ;"You would be pretty if you did this, did that". It dampens sprits. This write up was exactly what I was looking for. Read on:

Feeling Good About Your Body Is Up to You

Contentment is an achievable state of being.

Published on June 27, 2011 by Dara Chadwick in You'd Be So Pretty If...

An editorial in my local newspaper recently touted the health benefits of looking on the bright side. It cited a 10-year study of Canadian adults, which found that "having a positive outlook on life can reduce your risk of heart disease and heart attack by as much as 22 percent."

That's a significant impact.

It's hard to accept sometimes that our thoughts can be such a powerful force in our lives. But they are. In my book, You'd Be So Pretty If...: Teaching Our Daughters to Love Their Bodies -- Even When We Don't Love Our Own, I mentioned a Harvard Business School study that found that workers who smiled felt happier at work -- even if they were faking it. I was fascinated by that idea, and found myself wondering if the same concept might apply to body image.

What might happen if women told themselves they were content exactly as they are? If they learned to see their bodies in a positive way?

Notice I didn't say "perfect" or even "beautiful." If you're a regular reader, you know full well that I don't believe in perfection. And for many women, thinking of themselves as "beautiful" would be a foreign and difficult concept.

But contentment? That's an achievable state of being, no matter where you are.

When I make a conscious effort to eat well, get some exercise and look after my own needs, I feel better--almost instantly. In fact, studies have shown that women who exercise feel better about their bodies long before their bodies start to change as a result of that exercise. There's something very powerful about shifting your focus from the negative -- e.g., "I'm so out of shape" -- to the positive: "I'm a person who cares about her health and is making time for exercise."

One of the great things about thoughts is that they build momentum. Learn to look on the bright side and before long, you may find yourself experiencing healthy, happy changes in many areas of your life. We can't always control what happens to us, but we are in charge of how we respond to the events and people in our lives. We may have negative feelings, but it's our choice to wallow in them or pick ourselves up and move on. The same goes for how we feel about our bodies.

That's a powerful concept.

Dara Chadwick is the author of You'd Be So Pretty If…:Teaching Our Daughters to Love Their Bodies—Even When We Don't Love Our Own, which grew out of her experience as Shape magazine's 2007 Weight-Loss Diary columnist. A former magazine staff editor, she's a New England-based freelance journalist specializing in health, wellness and lifestyle topics. Her work has been published in magazines such as Shape, Parenting, Working Mother, Family Circle, Woman's Day, Better Homes & Gardens, For Me and VIV.

 I have lost the original link but you could check out her  website 

Your definitions do not define me

If you ask me my name I will say it's Anjee

If you ask me who I am I will say I am human.

If you ask me my nationality I will say I am Indian. 

If you ask me my sex I will say I have female genitals. 

If you ask me my gender I will say I am female. 

If you ask me my sexual orientation I will say I am bisexual

I did not ask to get labelled. Your labels do not make me who I am. Label or not I decide who I am. 

Your preconceived notions do not define me. They do not make me who I am. Who I am is decided by me and me alone.  

P.S I recently participated in  Slutwalk Kolkata, held on 24th May. Though labeling is not the core issue that Slutwalk is dealing with it's something I have been thinking about a lot after the walk. To know more about how the Slutwalk originated you can check out this Wikipedia article.

You could also check out the facebook group Slutwalk Kolkata and the page.

100 Words: Woman

She smiles.

She cries.

Birth. Cradle. Work. Cook. Clean.

Homework. Chauffeur.

She stays back. She stands up. She goes ahead.

Dries tears. Dries clothes.

She. Her.

Slapped. Snubbed.

Taboo. Trampled.

Left behind.

Dead. Not allowed to live.

Survivor.

Through broken hearts and broken bones.

Her kiss. Her lap. Her hug

Her passion. Her emotion.

Her song. Her dance.

Comfort . Softness.

Old. Young. New. 

Always New.

Fails. Falls. Rises.

Silence. Words.

She loves.

She hates.

Loony. Jealous. Possessive.

Lives through stereotypes.

Beautiful.

Rape.  Horror.Assault. Harassment

Virgin.

She lives. She is.

Dip her in hot water, she emerges strong.

Power. 

No shop, No drop

I like shopping. The idea. I like to think that I would visit a mall and choose fabulous outfits for myself. I would fuss, pick and choose from a hundred outfits and return with loads of shopping bags. I like the idea. I like to think I can do it.

I like to think I would go ‘ooh’ when I look at shiny stuff(i.e jewellery ) I like to think that I would stop and stare at every window and admire or dissect whatever is on display. The idea is excellent, execution not so much.

Shopping bores me. Actually, shopping per say doesn’t bore me. I like buying stuff. Mainly books. And shoes at times. Anything that involves trotting from one place to another; stopping to look at stuff ( and pass appropriate comments) bores me. Buying books doesn’t involve that.

Don’t get me wrong I like clothes and I do quite occasionally feel I need more. Just, the entire process of going to a place, choosing, deciding etc etc is tedious.   

When I shop I get exhausted in about an hour or so. I get impatient. I get restless. I end up buying something that doesn’t fit at times. I ended up buying a pair of jeans 2 sizes bigger because I was irritated and wanted to go back home and so didn’t try it on ( I was 11 maybe) if I have to shop and start feeling bored and haven’t found what I had to buy I chuck it. Whatever I had planned to buy gets postponed to the next trip.

When the person I shop with tries on heaps of clothes without deciding on even one, it annoys me to bits. So if she asks me if the outfit is any good I keep saying yes to whatever is shown to me.

I used to like window shopping as a teen. It was the novelty of it I suppose.  I would rather not do it now.

It’s a pity that personal shoppers help you shop and don’t choose stuff for you. They guide you ( and you have to pay them)

Give me a substantial amount of money (say 10k ) and ask me to shop the whole day I would probably buy all the books on my list. Online shopping is a boon for me.   

Out of all the stereotypical comments about woman, I dislike “all woman love shopping” the most. I am a woman and I detest shopping.

'Naikamo'

‘Naika’ is a Bengali adjective that cannot be translated to any other language- there is no substitute whatsoever. Simply because you will find naika people only in the Bengali community. “Naikamo” the quality of being naika only Bengalis possess and can be interpreted only by those who have been at close quarters of Bengali culture. Bongs ( I don’t think it should be taken as a derogatory term; if Punjabis are punjus, Gujaratis’ Gujjus, Bengalis should be happy with being called a bong.) can naturally be naika. It may include girly, attention seeking, eyes fluttering gestures or it may include a way of talking or tone of voice.  

Many are born naika, many put up an act when it is convenient. But no bong is complete without naika-ness.

I have often tried ‘naika’ poses for the camera but I always end up sniggering and the photograph ends up being a cross between crazy and naika. More crazy than naika.

I am pretty comfortable with both Punjabi and Bengali cultures and I am often mistaken for a bong. A few relatives often say- “Tu toh bangalan ban gayi hai”- You have turned into a bong female. Yet I haven’t gotten around to the secret behind the naika -ness bongs possess. To much of it gets on non-naika people’s nerves. So much so that we call permanently naika people NC , short for naika ch*** (figure out the expletive, I know you can)

I am not discouraging permanently naika’s to stop.  Please do continue (more fodder for non-naika people’s laughter) As I said I don't think you can do without it.

I will; one day; perfect a naika pose for the camera. For Sure. 

koritsi. chica. ragazza. just a girl.

Being a north Indian I have grown up with the ritual of kanjak celebrated on Ashthami- the eight day of the 9 days worshiping Maa, better known as Navratri. Navratri is celebrated in April and in October. In October it coincides with Durga puja.

Asthami for us would mean going to my nani’s house early in the morning. Sitting down near the mandir in my nani’s room. Waiting for nani to finish chanting her mantras. Singing along “shera wali maata teri sadayi jai” at the right cue. Getting our feet washed by nanu. The youngest kanjak pulled out a handful of grass from an earthen pot. For years it was me and my cousin doing it, my sister did it when she was old enough to. Then came the awaited moment of the Prasad- halwa, puri, chana and raita. And the token amount of money and a gift from my nanu was always included.

I am not a ritualistic person but there are  certain situations or things that you associate with certain people. I associate ashthami with my nani. She passed away in 2007 and I have not witnessed a kanjak puja after that. Today is Ashthami and I am thinking of my nani. And my girlhood.

A girl. Am I a 21 year old girl or a 21 year old woman? A woman; I think, who sometimes wants to go back to being just a girl.


It's sometimes nice being a female. You get the attention of a busy shopkeeper faster than the xy people. And you don't have  really have to ask a guy out. There's some stuff about being a woman that pisses me off but I don't really want to get into that. Not today.


Today, I want to be grateful for being a girl. I want to count my blessings. Today, I want to hold on to the traditions and rituals of the past. If not continue with them, I want to just think of them with fondness. I want to make up my own rituals. For myself. And for my future offsprings. Today I want to think of my nani, who taught my mom so many things and who in turn taught me so much. 


I want to celebrate being a girl, for once. I don't want to rant about feminism and equality and what not. Then why do I even mention feminism? Because it is on my mind. I am thinking about the obvious stuff like female foeticide and what happens in Haryana. But for today I want to keep all of that aside. For today I want to believe that I, like the goddess can slay demons. Atleast my own demons. 


I am a girl today. Not a kanjak. Just a girl who is missing her nani  and loves Asthami. 




  

The 'Romantic' Hero

Girls are consistently fed the ‘romantic' hero stereotype, starting from the age of three with stories of Cinderella’s Prince Charming relayed to them every night.


And why was he called Prince Charming and not something else? Did all he have was charm? I am guessing that must be the case. All he did was dance with her. No bravado, no sign of intelligence. Seriously, choosing a bride on the basis of her shoe size? But he sure was charming.


And the romantic movies. Look at all the guys Hugh Grant has played. Sweet, caring, charming. RICH. Intelligent, blah, blah blah.

And closer home there is Sharukh Khan flinging his arms wide; with his oh so cute dimpled smile; singing songs that can melt your heart. Running in mustard fields telling you “Main hoon Na”.

Well, obviously our expectations are high and obviously we are disappointed when we take off our tinted glasses and find the real life guy types- the MCP, The slob, The show off, the Brawn without brains etc etc.

And girls have the task of finding a guy she could love, wading through a sea of the guy types. And well, they do find their own Prince “not so charming” and maybe their own knight in “Versace” armour.


Girls have to basically realize that guys will be guys. Some of them will be jerks hiding under the prince charming disguise. Some will turn out to be nice but they still will have guy habits. But that’s why we like them, don’t we? And let’s face it, no all of us like Prince Charming.

Almost squashed but determined

The other day I was sitting in the new merc, on a mission, following orders. Trying to trudge towards my destination. (One doesn’t trudge in a merc, I know)



Um well just wanted to sound dramatic. I was on a bus, on my way to college. Sitting by the window side, admiring the view. And what a view it was, men using the road as a public toilet, men crossing the road at the wrong time beckoning Lord Accident to descend on them. Great view.


I was enjoying the view wondering why I had forgotten my earphones forcing my cell to sit idle in my pocket.


I was alone (well, not entirely) No one was sitting beside me. Out of nowhere this lady materialized(Now that I think of it she must have boarded the bus and I like many others don’t notice who boards the bus when.) She sat beside me, even though there were other empty seats. Now let me tell you, I usually don’t have any problem if people sit beside me. No, there was a reason to be mortified. This lady was thrice my size if not four times bigger. I am no size zero but I do have a thin figure. So I can safely say I had reason to be apprehensive.

I could have managed somehow had it been just her size. After a few minutes she started complaining. About everything from the weather to the crowd, to the lady leaning against the seat. Everything. Then I realized that I had heard this woman before. She had, a week ago been sitting behind me in the bus, and i recalled  her complaining about everything the whole 40 minutes I was in the bus. And so I thought “I have to endure this for atleast 30 minutes. God." At that point she wondered aloud why she had chosen to sit there( a nice gentle lady was leaning against the seat at that very moment) I too repeated “I wonder why”


Her size caused me a lot more trouble than I had envisioned. She was pressing her weight against me so much that I was sure by the time I reached my stop I would be so thin I would get sucked into a straw if I ever try to suck from one.


I had to do something. I would love to be thinner but not so thin! I tried to tell her politely, but she was to busy complaining to even hear me. Maybe she had too much fat in her ears and one would need a microphone to be hard by heard.


I tried to shove her with my elbow. Unsuccessful. I think I now have a tennis elbow. I repeated this whole process of politeness and shoving twice, to no avail.


They say “try try until you succeed”. I did try a lot, but before I could succeed my stop came so I got down.

Followers

No, I am not talking about anything Twitter related. Nor am I going to elaborate on leadership. I am referring to the random men who decide to follow woman walking on the road. These brand of men can also be categorized as eve teasers, (they can also be called unemployed. Perverts, pathetic, sick and other colourful adjectives.) But I am not here to analyse the different adjectives that can be used for these men. I want to discuss ways of evading these people.



The first thing on needs to do is be alert. That is the basic thing one needs to learn. Not just to evade followers but also avoid being pick pocketed or road accidents. But as woman we cannot let go of our gourd. If you notice someone following you, do not panic. Stay calm. Stay confident. Even if you don’t feel confident look it. The only way one can be confident is by being aware of the world around you. Yes girls do get followed. This isn’t just a matter of movies and television. In real life heroes aren’t available to save us. The first time I was followed I didn’t panic because I knew what to do. Yes, I was scared but I remembered that I had to look confident. Just don’t show that you are scared. You can develop a not scared –mean/ aggressive look to be used when you are on the road. Be the no-nonsense kind of woman on the road.


Don’t turn around to look at your follower, initially. Don’t let them know that you know that they are following you (unless it gets really bad) don’t increase your pace suddenly. If you want to speed up, do it gradually.


Walk in a zigzag manner. Avoid walking straight. Change footpaths often and cross as many roads as possible. Also try to go to the main road where loads of cars and people will be there to shield you. Join a crowd. Most probably your follower will lose you.


Get inside a shop. Buy something and stall your exit for as long as possible. Tell the shopkeeper about the situation. Chances are he/she will help you out.


Call up your speed dial numbers. Warn your friend of family about what’s happening. Tell them to call you frequently. This will give you a moral boost and is also a precaution in case something happens. It may also scare the follower off. Most followers are just random people who follow for the thrills. They certainly don t want to get into trouble with the police.


These tips apply to random followers only. When such people turn into stalkers you need legal action. Tell your family. Go to the police. Take action.

The TV tease

 I saw this really melodramatic serial on StarPlus called "Pratigya" which was shamelessly promoting ruffianism, gundagiri and eve teasing. The male protagonist of the soap follows the female lead, declares love for her, breaks up her upcoming marriage and basically does everything that an eve teaser may do. And by showing all this the serial is portraying eve teasing as "the thing to do" . It has so easily legitimised this social "evil".


What was the writer thinking? And how could such a respected channel portray such degradation of woman in today's times? When the society is taking baby steps of change to give woman the respect they deserve such regressive soaps certainly do not help change mindsets.




The protagonist runs away to another town to get rid of the guy, and ultimately decides to marry him! This is not how things work. This is not the way to deal with eve teasers! We girls have faced such behavior atleast once. Even if we haven't, we are scared of the occurrence! Unfortunate but true. We should all know how to deal with this problem. There are techniques, you know! Instead of showing people such regressive material the soap could have shown the girl next door how to cope. Running away is NOT the solution!


  
Men forget that they have sisters, wives and daughters at home. And even they don't have one of those, they all have mothers!




Ruffians will always be ruffians. "The bad boy turned good" syndrome is only true to Hindi movies. Awareness of this fact is important. We all should know that there is a way out and soaps like the one I talked about are certainly not portraying the right way. I want to end this "eve teasing promotion". And I want your help. Do share your feelings on this forum




All woman invited to comment. Complain. Act. React.

The "fast" factor

Karva Chauth, made famous by Indian Movies and soaps isn't as romantic or sweet a day as made out to be. For those who don't know Karva Chauth is the day woman of north Indian communities ( Marwaris, Punjabis, UP-aites) fast for the long lives of their husbands. They don't eat or drink the whole day, there is a get-together of fasting ladies in the evening and they perform a ritual which I have nicknamed "passing the parcel" ans then at night they look at the moon and break their fast by having water and a small bite of something

So basically if a woman does not fast she is looked down upon by the society which is pre-dominantly full of the xy chromosome people who dictate the dos and donts of our society. And Karva Chauth like many other Hindu festivals is purely reflection of the male chauvinism in our world.(One other example is Rakhi and Bhai duuj, where sisters pray for the long lives of their brothers !duh!)


There is nothing romantic about Karva Chauth, it's the woman who keep fasts. I have nothing against fasts. Occasional fasting is supposedly good for health (  I don't know how true that is?) What I have a problem with is the reason for the fast. As if fasting will actually increase the lifespan of the dear hubby ( there would be no widows in our land if that was true) Other communities don't fast, don't their husbands live long ? Do they die premature deaths?

I don't understand the logic behind all this. Is there any?


 Many myths are associated with this day, they are fortunately just myths. Yet woman are superstitious enough to believe that if they stop fasting something terrible will befall their husbands. And if she doesn't fast and something does happen she will be blamed. And so woman fast. And men secretly love it.