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Showing posts with label Rantings Of The Angry Feminist In Me. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rantings Of The Angry Feminist In Me. Show all posts

Tuesday, 11 June 2013

Of Feminism, Bad Journalism and Jiah Khan's suicide letter.

So yes, I read about the suicide, and I read the letter. We all did. And for a long time, I successfully refrained from commenting on people's overhyped reactions on it.

But what I read in one newspaper yesterday just took the cake, and here I am, joining the bandwagon despite my reluctant self.


I didn't know her and I am nobody to comment/speculate what drove her to take her own life or how she could have dealt with the situation instead. Seriously, who ARE we to comment?


Did you know her personally? Are you an expert on psychology? No. Then do this world a favour and shut your judgmental face.


Yes, we have an opinion on everything, but where do these opinions go when we are the ones in that particular situation? Why don't we counsel ourselves on the best way to deal with the situation we are in?


Yes, that's right. Because we are human. And though we become experts when it comes to counseling the rest of the world, we are as clueless when we are put in the same situation.


So all you psychologists who are busy analyzing her disturbed state of mind, or distorted self-image, well, please evaporate. Thanks.


Oh, you were "shocked"? Of course you were, you poor thing. "She looked so happy". Yeah, right. She told you that when she came over to your house everyday for tea, didn't she?


"She was an actor and people looked up to her. She has set a dangerous example for her fans." Well, here's a not so shocking fact: actors have feelings. They have a life OTHER THAN living up to their fan's expectations and setting a good example for them. They are humans, and yes, humans get depressed. Sometimes they can't deal with it anymore. They suicide. Get over it.


No, I'm not glorifying suicide, or saying that it was the right solution or it's the right way to deal with things. No, I'm not defending her.


What's my point here? My point is, leave her ALONE. Let her rest in peace.


Suicide is a very complicated thing. What happened to Jiah Khan was extremely sad. What she went through, I do not wish upon anyone. But that's that. Who am I to comment on what she should have done? Who is ANYONE to comment on what she should have done?


 Who are we to judge her?


Is it okay to take one's own life? That's a disputed question even philosophers haven't arrived at a consensus to reply to.


But oh, when we are so interested in commenting on people's lives, why would we forego a chance to showcase our expert opinions on people's deaths, right?


So, coming back to the point, just when I was getting over being irked at people's ludicrous reactions to this news, I found this gem of an article. *sarcasm*


http://www.firstpost.com/bollywood/jiah-khans-suicide-note-what-did-rabia-teach-her-daughter-858835.html


The title reads, "Jiah Khan's suicide note: What did Rabia teach her daughter?"


Wow. This journalist's blatant and extremely repulsive sexist self gets a huge round of applause from me. Where do they hire them from nowadays? The Talentless Agency specializing in cheap, sexist and insensitive (insert word here. Calling them writers or journalists will make me lose faith in the profession) who also happen to have bad grammar?


After recovering from the shock that this piece of ridiculously bad journalism actually got published, I sat down and read it. And I have some choicest expletives to describe it which I wouldn't write here, but you can use your own discretion to add some.


Firstly, why does it always come down to the mother when the child goes wrong? What about fathers? Aw, of course. Don't they do enough already by being the "breadwinners" of the family? Why would we burden them by making them responsible for passing on some value addition on their offspring?


No, people are only mighty interested in blaming the mother, especially when its a girl child who goes wrong! Why not boys? Oh don't be silly. Boys will be boys.


And that is exactly the kind of thinking that authors of articles like these advocate. It roots back to the root of all our pain. Patriarchy. Do you still want me to answer why we need feminism?


If the horrendously backward author can comprehend me, I have a simple question - how do you not bother to ask what Suraj Pancholi's mother AND father taught him? I scanned your whole article (in utter disbelief, I might add) to not find a single mention of how HE could have done with some "good parenting".


And who are you miss, to question and comment on how her mother should have raised her?


It's ironic that YOU, of all the people, talk about patriarchy while your own article conveniently stinks of it.


May I question the parenting of the people who raise such chauvinistic and sexist waste of oxygen and space on earth?


Maybe, you are the one who should have spent some more time convincing yourself against writing this sadistic piece of crap. 




Sunday, 12 May 2013

Sleeping with the enemy

I wrote this poem for a poetry competition where it won the first place. The topic of the poem is Marital Rape and is one of the subjects that is close to my heart. Sadly, in India, Marital Rape is still not considered to be a crime because of the strain it will supposedly cause to the system of 'marriage'. In fact, girls are advised to be married off to their rapists if they are raped before their marriage, as this system is considered so sacred that it even legitimizes the very act of Rape! 



This is the story of her,
She who walks amongst us,
She looks seemingly normal,
You don’t suspect anything’s wrong with her

But just give her another look,
She is more than your neighbour’s cook
She is unusually thin and frail,
Burned and bruised, her skin cold and pale
Her eyes are hollow, blank and void
Yet if you gaze a little closely, they look sad and recoiled.

Her soft sobs and weeps
Recount stories of those untold horrors and griefs
That await her at her own house,
In the form of her drunk, abusive and sadistic spouse

Every night she shudders
At the thought of going back home
Where night after night
She relives the worst nightmares of her life
It’s a terrifying thought she can’t shake
That this isn’t a dream from which she can wake
No means to run, no routes to escape

This is the story of her,
It may sound clichéd
Born in poverty, a burden on everyone’s head
What is her fault?
That she is a girl?
Or merely the fact that she was even born?

Disposed of by her parents
In a deal they called her “marriage”
Cursed to spend the rest of her life
Being abused and disparaged

Sleeping with the enemy
Night after night,
The torture and pain he inflicts on her
Gets drowned away in her cries

Nobody to help her;
It’s her duty after all,
To bear all the agony without a complaint
Because her husband is supposed to be her God

As the nation today fights tooth and nail
Protesting against the rape of all those unfortunate victims
Here she stands; this woman too
She has gone through the worst, and continues going through
She suffers no less than any other Nirbhaya, Damini or Gudiya*
Her anguish never ends,
Damned in a fate worse than death

Battered and worn,
She lights a candle too
She prays for the victim,
And for her own misfortune

Her fault was being born,
Born in a land
Where her femininity is not welcome
Where marriage is considered so sacred,
That it even legitimizes rape!




To read more about Marital Rape Laws in India, please read:


*Nirbhaya, Damini and Gudiya were the symbolic names given to the recent Rape Victims in India.