Tuesday, June 14, 2011

Of Boobquakes and SlutWalks

SlutWalk seems to be the new ‘Boobquake’. Twitter can’t stop talking about it, news sites are giving it a lot of coverage (I don’t know about newspapers, I’m going green) while I’ve even heard my fellow women passengers in the train vehemently appreciate a ‘daring’ and ‘bold’ movement like that.

So for the uninitiated, here’s your SlutWalk gyaan

Just a few questions, though. 

Does a man’s sexual beast awaken only when a woman is ‘half-clothed’? True that perhaps skin show excites him a little more than he normally would have been, but how about the zillion times I’ve been fully covered, in a three-fourth sleeved kurta and jeans, no cleavage showing, but still had a lewd remark or a boob graze strewn my way? How do you explain this molestation? The amount of times I’ve had to hit molesters on the head with the binding of my book till they wince is not funny. I can safely say I haven’t been showing any skin at any of those times (since I don’t wear revealing clothes), but have had my fair share of eve-teasing thrown my way.

The worst part? One generally can’t do anything about it. There usually isn’t any use retaliating when you hurl your dirtiest swear word back at these men, or worse hit back, because they’re generally used to all this and more. You do it for your satisfaction, but realize you don’t really get any. Slowly you get used to being molested like this, without it playing on your head all day. What do you do but get used to it really, except sit at home?

That is how sad the state of affairs has become.

But then on the other hand are the men who would never utter a lewd word about any woman, even if she was walking naked on the road. Laugh all you want, but I do know men like that. They’d help bash up anyone who troubles random women, let alone women who are their friends or family. Don’t we all know such men, too? Just proves it takes all kinds to make up the male species.

So how do you explain the mentality of a man, really?

And as women, don’t we judge other women who are provocatively dressed? I know I do. I judge a girl who’s wearing a really tiny skirt that barely covers her butt. I know I think a zillion times before I wear something I think is remotely revealing. “Is my cleavage showing?”, “Are the boobs looking too big?” Questions most of us ask ourselves each morning as we dress up.

Are we really as liberated in our own heads as we make ourselves out to be? We fear being judged by all and sundry when we wear certain types of clothing – and the fear rarely has to do with molestation. We fear how we are perceived by everyone around us. If we aren’t confident of whether what we’re doing is right or wrong, don’t expect anyone else around to reassure you either.

Remember, slutty is in the mind. You are as slutty as you think you are. No one else holds the right to call you that, as long as you don’t call yourself that, either.

Happy SlutWalking!

Monday, June 13, 2011

Every once in a while...

(Forgive me for this personal, random post. Just need an outlet, and what better than my own blog?)

Every once in a while, you decide your life is perfect just the way it is. Every once in a while, you’re certain that the way your life is headed is just the way you want it to be. These rare flashes of insight are what keep you going, convincing you that the path you have chosen is right, the risks you’ve taken have been worthwhile, that you’re finally becoming someone capable of taking your own decisions. You heave a satisfied sigh of relief and try bettering yourself.

And then, every once in a while your belief in yourself is broken into a zillion pieces, when something you believe in, are proud of, is shot down by someone else. Someone you look up to, someone whose word is the gospel for you. And suddenly you’re not so proud anymore. Suddenly you wonder if you’re doing the right thing, if you were ever doing the right thing.

Parents, family, boyfriends, girlfriends, everyone close thinks you’re completely in the right place. But how much of it is the bias of their love for you and how much is the absolute truth? How does one go about pacifying self-doubt and self-worth? 

Am I really good at whatever I do and take up? 

Is there a way to ever know?

And then there are the friends. The people you trust with your life. The people who, whether or not they agree with you, will not judge you and hold stuff you tell them against you. Where do you go when someone like this does judge you after all? Phases you out, doesn’t want to talk to you apart from the bare essentials? Will you trust anyone with your darkest secrets ever again?

I don’t think so. If you were to learn from my experience, I’d say don’t tell anyone about stuff no one would understand. How much ever they claim they would. There are some things best left untold, best taken to your grave.

Trust me, it’s for the good of everyone concerned. Or not.