To work or not

If feminism is about having the choice to work shouldn't it also be having the choice to not work? Today, I fear, we women who work do not really have the choice to give it all up. Gone are those days when we would never think twice before asking our husbands to get us a sari or depend on our husbands to take care of us. In a Bengali wedding there is a custom where the groom promises that he would feed, clothe the bride. Today, it is just a custom. A man wants a woman who earns. Lifestyles have changed, wants have become needs and everyone is in a race to impress. A four wheeler will not do, it has to be sedan or an SUV;  a 2 bedroom flat is too small for two people, we need a 3 bedroom apartment; Same dress to two parties, absolutely NOT!

So, these are the days that we live in and it becomes almost impossible to sustain on one person's income. But, what if a woman does not want to be a part of this race, what if she wants to get up in the morning, cook for her family, rest in the afternoon, read more books, write and not rush to an office in the morning and work? Why is she not given that choice? And, same goes for the man. If he is not in a state of mind to work he should have the choice to quit, let the wife take care of the expenses then. My point is we do not really have that choice anymore. And, it is annoying. Day in and day out a lot of us spend 8 hours doing something that we do not like at all yet we have to.

Give it a thought. All of us deserve the choice to raise our hands up and shout I give up, at least once in our life.

I had stopped writing. Well, not writing but blogging. Mostly because I am an extremely lazy person and it is too much of a task for me to log on to the account and post something. I usually scribble on whatever is around me. But, I have decided to change this among a lot many other things that I plan to change. No, it is not because I want to give a glimpse of my oh - so - entertaining life to the world because frankly there are too many blogs and you do not want to know what is going on with another random person's life.

I decided to blog again for primarily two reasons. One, I need to work on my laziness. Period.

Second, and more importantly, I realized that the memory is not as good as it used to be. This realization dawned on me the other day when I was going through some old chats and discovered, to my horror, that I do not remember a lot of things that have happened to me. And, they are significant. Yes, I am getting old and there is so much that the brain can hold. So, blogging seems like a good way of keeping an account of things that happen around me, my thoughts and opinions.

I am not sure that I will be able to execute it. There is the hope, though. And what are we without our hopes.

Adieu!

She always thought of herself as a very strong person.

That day, when she stepped into Her room she knew she could not stay. She felt fear, felt her strength slipping. She glanced at Her and could only see Her eyes amidst the masks and the tubes. Those eyes which captivated everyone, those eyes that she feared as a child, the same eyes that spoke to her the past five days when there were no words. 

She went out and said that she wouldn't stay the night. He was displeased though he took care to not say anything. She felt she was betraying Her but she could not help it. She could not watch Her go. And, she knew that it was time for Her to leave.

On the way back she was quiet. She was trying to dig images from the past and replace it with what she saw now. It was difficult. She could only see Her in that room now with the vacant, helpless look in Her eyes. 

She was almost home when his phone rang and she knew. She didn't wait to hear the details, just quietly slipped to her room. She dug her hands in her pocket to fish out a cigarette when she remembered that this is his home and she cannot smoke here. She again tried to erase those images of Her. She needed them to go away. Those just could not be Her picture in her memories.

She heard screams. People had come and were crying and talking at the same time. She wanted to shut them out. After sometime she heard that they had brought Her home. How? She has left. People came to meet her. They asked her to cry. It helps, some said.  She hugged someone and cried. But it didn't help. They now wanted her to go and see Her. She screamed and shouted that she didn't want to. They said she would regret it. She was sure she wouldn't. She didn't want to mar that picture in her memory any further. No one heard her pleas; they dragged her. 

She barely glanced at Her and rushed to her room. She could hear them take Her away. She walked to that terrace from where She had waved her a bye a thousand times. This time it was her turn to wave, that too for the last time.

27 is not a nice number.

Impasse.

She wants to know where she she stands. Will this wait last forever? Does she have to wait all her life?

He says that he is helpless. He is trying is the best consolation that he has to offer.

She is chained. Neither can she walk away nor can can she walk with him.

He asks her to decide.

Why is the ball in her court, she wonders.

He does not have any answers.

She wants all of it to end. She wants to be normal with him again. She wants to have that child.

He remains silent.

Silence is not always golden, she whispers.

She wants to know what lies ahead.

He says that there is no fun if one knew what lies ahead.

She does not want the fun. She wants this uncertainty to end.

He says that nothing is certain.

She feels trapped, a noose around her neck.

He sighs. "I am trying", he says.

She wants to know for how long?

He says as long as it takes. He is an optimist.

She feels that he is not an optimist, just a fool.

A long, long time

Three years is a long time. A different city, a different life and a different me. .

Blogging is such an easy and wonderful way to realize how one has changed over the years.

I want to write again. And few years down the line read the posts and discover that I have changed, yet again.

Will you take me amidst the clouds and let me fly high, high and high?

Just an update

Mood: Melancholy

Song am listening to: November Rain/Gin soaked boy

Thinking: If I did the right thing

Missing: The cocoon

Reading: Pride and Prejudice (for the nth time)

Hoping: That I don't end up messing up again and for the rains

Aching for: A trip to the hills/beach

Hating: The spendthrift me, procrastination and the inability to write anything meaningful

Asking: The same question again and again

Dreaming: A walk on the beach/Possessing a nice phoneFeel like killing: All the Mosquitoes of the world

Wearing: Denim shorts and white spaghetti top

Happy about: The coming weekend :) and my new hair style

Sad about: That it won't last for long

Craving for: Some real shopping

Irritated with: Someone for being very, very stupid and dumb

Praying: For Nothing

:) :) :)

I like

I like....


the pitter patter rain drops on a tin roof...
black, white and red...
lying down on my bed and reading...
driving from Shillong to Cherrapunjee amidst the clouds...
talking and smiling to myself...
belgian chocolate ice cream...
the fragrance of fresh flowers in my room...
dreaming and dreaming and dreaming...
savouring good food...
the roads in Delhi...
the phuchkas in Calcutta...
the winter chills and the snow...
sitting on a beach in the middle of the night...
reminiscing the times gone by...
the hills...
when Papa messages me "Dennis the Menace" jokes...
playing with kids...
writing escalation mails at work...
being a woman...
travelling with just a backpack...
sitting on my bean bag and blogging...
my eyes...
dancing till I drop...
gazing at the stars...
google...
laughing out loud...
etc, etc...