Date a girl who speaks her mind

She’s loud, she’s opinionated, she’s verbose and she kinda argues about everything. 

What more? She’s independent, she’s charismatic, she knows what she wants and she knows how to get it. 

She drinks, she parties, she has her own set of friends and a mind of her own. 

Date her. And here’s why:

I guarantee she is the most interesting person you’ll ever meet. If she’s all of the above and she still wants to go out with you, she probably knows you’ve got it in you somewhere.

You’ll never have a dull moment. She’ll find a way to turnaround the most boring sunday afternoons. 

She’s probably done more fun stuff than you have. Learn a thing or two from her. 

She has a hobby. 

She is not constantly trying to change you. She doesn’t believe in making you a ‘better person’. She is confident you are perfection. 

She’s assertive, not dominating. The difference is that she is open to an healthy discussion and capable of understanding your point. 

She doesn’t want things her way, she wants them the right way. And she’s willing to meet you halfway. 

It doesn’t have to be her way or the highway. Her balanced, well read and educated world view makes her reasonable.

She cares and thats the reason she’s passionate and moved by most things. 

Most importantly, she does not believe in manipulating you. She likes to put herself out there and bear the brunt, rather than deceiving you and getting things done her way. 

She says it the way it is. Wouldn’t you like that? 

She loves beer.

She’s competitive. Why wouldn’t she be? She’s awesome at everything. Wouldn’t you like a good challenge?

She does everything you do and she does it better.

She wants to come home to you.

She hates pink and loves asymmetrical designs. So your house will never look like a perpetual doll tea party.  

You’ll never find yourself in a boring conversation about nail colors. Instead, you’ll be thrilled every time she makes a point.

She cooks, but only stuff that blows your mind (in an extremely delicious way). 

Your friends will love her. 

And finally, she doesn’t need you, she wants you.

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Dream on… how else will you get anywhere?

I woke up startled by a nightmare this morning. As I recollect, I faintly remember being chased, although I can’t remember what I was running away from. If I think real hard, I recall bloodshed.. carcasses, some very familiar faces doing not so familiar things. I remember my dream in a bluish grey filter and I remember being very very stressed.

Now, I remember watching ‘Magnolia’ last night and I remember being taken aback by the ‘frog shower’ part of the movie and if I add a few other things to this mix, I can make sense out of my dream. But what still surprises me is the extent of my imagination. It far exceeds my reality..

And this is a good thing.

I believe in dreaming. If there is a group out there that propagates dreaming and its benefits, i’d join it immediately.

I’ve never had a problem dreaming.  And I’m not talking about remembering my dreams, neither am I restricting myself to the subconscious dreaming that happens when you’re asleep. I’m talking about dreaming in general.

Dreaming, that lets you see your life bright and clear while you’re staring in to oblivion with your eyes wide open. I dream so often. In the middle of a boring conversation (there I am nodding my head, dreaming away to glory), while watching a experimental movie, while driving places (note: i’m never in the driver’s seat. Not yet), while taking a shower, while waiting for a bus, at the doctors, on the patio, in the kitchen, while going to bed, when I wake up, when i’m texting and other unmentionable moments.

I’ve never needed an external drug to enhance this experience. Never have I had to take help of any substance to customize my dreams. It’s a free flowing process that helps me visual things.. no doubt you need a heavy duty imagination for that.. and without that you’re just caught in a web of reality, trying to make your way through a crowded train station. Now, that’s no fun.

This is different. This is like letting yourself go (let me repeat, without any substance), seeing yourself climb that ladder, which could be related to anything career, personal life or just taking the escalator to the movies. Watching yourself do something and be someone that helps your chalk out the path to get there.

And trust me, you can do this while you have your feet firmly on the ground. There is no harm in letting yourself dream a little. It doesn’t define you and it certainly doesn’t make you a hopeless idealist. Dreaming does not make you’re not earning a living, managing a home and life or raising kids.

In fact for people out there, who haven’t had a chance to experience this, I’d like for you to try this.. it will definitely help you get somewhere in life.

Drift in your dreams not in real life!

I could get better at receiving compliments.. if I try..

Ever complimented a woman on the lovely summer dress she’s wearing to brunch and in response, she shrugged and said, “Oh this old thing. It’s been lying in my closet for the last five years”.

Throws you back a little, doesn’t it. You wonder, why women do that. Why are they incapable of taking a compliment? Why is it so difficult to handle some praise? Is it me? Did I say something odd? Is she pmsing? Phew!

Woman can be so confusing. On one hand they go out of their way to get your attention and on the other, they’ll just brush you off when you give them some. That is very irrational behavior, but there are several reasons that cause it.

I get super flustered when someone compliments me. I go red in my face, my head starts buzzing and I’m never sure what to say in return. From this point on, there are two ways to go about this:

1) You can either thank the person graciously and move on.

2) Or you can make a sarcastic remark about whatever it is he complimented you over. 

I always choose the second. I’m not entirely sure why. But I always do. It’s not that I don’t like to hear good things about myself, neither is it about the person. It’s more about the massive confusion in my head. There are contradictory voices in my head directing me to be modest, use sarcasm, do something absolutely non-sensical and completely ignore the compliment. 

The fact, however bad it sounds is that i’m not use to receiving praise. I am not conditioned to take good things said about me well, because I didn’t hear them growing up, or in school, or in college. All I ever heard was, I could do better. And I never realized that in this endeavor to do better, I’d reached a level of excellence. In whatever that I was doing.

As a school going kid, my teachers were always unappreciative of everything I did. Which five year old is worried about being perfect. They just want to run around, play in the mud and go to sleep. 

In the second grade, I failed a dictation test not because I spelled the words wrong (I got all the spellings right), but because I used a capital letter at the beginning of every word. Instead of talking to me, my second grade teacher failed me in the test. To teach me a lesson. To teach a seven years old a lesson. Needless to say, I never did well on my dictation test then on. 

And it doesn’t end there, in India, no doubt the extremely authoritarian schooling and family culture makes you stronger and try harder. But what they don’t notice is that in the long run, these teachers and some families are just burdening children with their own insecurities. Shooting their self-esteem down, taking pleasure in shaming them and ridiculing them.

In the years that follow, the whole system sort of conspires against you.. extended family, peers, other influencers, younger siblings who are ‘doing’ well, neighbors, absolutely random people who don’t give a damn about you.. they are all responsible for the fact that I cannot take a compliment well.

Most women have set their standards so high, that they kill themselves everyday to reach their goals. And everyday they inch a little closer, only to go back to bed feeling dejected that they haven’t reached it yet. In this struggle to get somewhere, shrugging off a compliment is just an attempt to help them keep going. An effort to keep themselves grounded and try harder next day. She loves the compliments. But she can’t afford to let herself believe them. 

 

 

 

 

 

Finishing schools: New York City and Bombay.

I moved to Portland less than a year ago and I’ve never been more at peace with myself. But, while Portland has been that home I’ve never had, New York City and Bombay have been my finishing schools. I owe my entire personality, attitude and class to these absolutely ruthless, individualist, competitive yet fabulous cities.

I’ve often heard people talk in very broad terms about NYC and Bombay. Stuff like, one is almost like the other, or, you can either loose yourself or be found here, watch out for sweet talkers, keep away from pretty faces and most commonly heard, train schedules are more important than people.

But, I think you’ve got to spend the most impressionable years of your life in Bombay and New York City to be able to appreciate what these cities have to offer and even more, what you take from them.

Bombay (Not Mumbai)

I was born, raised and groomed in this city. Among the things life throws at you, I learned to follow the concepts of space and time here. To speak, when spoken to and to speak your mind, is the rule here. The clock is your master and  you’ve got to beat it. Keep up with the hands or lose.

Everything in this city is carefully designed (so it seems) to turn you in to this person you never imagined you would be. It’s as if it’s laying a foundation for you, for a more confident, stronger you. It teaches you to squeeze in to an over crowded ladies compartment and come out on the other side, without so much as a crease on your starched shirt. In the same way, it teaches you to hold up your breathing for up to four minutes to escape the nauseating stench as you make your way through the train. It also makes sure you get off the train with everything (purses, bags, jewelry) you boarded with.

Bombay teaches you to walk in to the very office where you’d spend an absolutely disastrous and embarrassing yesterday, with your head held high and a flashy smile. People forget, but rarely forgive.

Bump in to an ex, walk right past him, without so much as an iota of regret. Thats possible.

Walking on a crowded street, you feel a stranger pinch your butt, you turn back, hurl a few abuses at him. Move on. Bombay teaches you to speak for yourself. In a language that the freaks understand. Which doesn’t make you a weirdo. It makes you a brave person.

Street food, the lunches, the dinners, the cuisines and homemade food. It’s a complete package. No fuss, no worries. Packaged water is made in local factories, just outside the railway platforms. Unlike New York City, there is no food department to rate the eateries. Bombay helps you build your immune system. Resistance is better than cure.

Song and dance, Bollywood. It’s all a part of this grooming school. Shake a leg, move your body, let yourself go.

And when you’re ready to go to the next level, you experience that unfamiliar restlessness.  You know it’s time to move ahead. It’s time to pack your bags and enter the next level. New York City.

New York City:

This may well be called ‘the world’s best finishing school’. Because you’re going to come out looking like a diva here. It gives you everything that Bombay offers and more. Honestly, its turnes it up several notches. For instance, if you thought the women in the ladies compartment of the trains in Bombay were bitchy. Try riding a subway in New York City. Your first train ride will make you feel so naked. The subsequent ones get better. But you’re always naked.  With their Guccis and Pradas and their fancy ipad covers, scrolling through The Economist (with all due respect), barely reading it, they are glancing at you through their tiny designer glass frames, worn to impress.

You cannot walk on to the streets wearing rags. But rags are all you have.

This city makes you feel incomplete. It makes you feel like you’ll never make it. Like you’ll never be good enough. No amount of money spend can make you a size zero, or make you look like a ramp model.

It makes you try harder. And that is what it does. It makes you look at yourself everyday. Day in and day out and you hear the reflection saying, “you’re not good enough. but the good news is, you can do better”.

At work, like in Bombay, you have an awful day. Unlike in Bombay, people are not rude, they are sarcastic. That look they give you makes you feel like running to the restroom and locking yourself in there till after office hours, when you can quietly sneak out in the dark.

There’s food everywhere, street food (just like in Bombay), variety of cuisines (just like in Bombay), but everybody is eating their greens. Everybody wants to be a size zero. Reality is nobody is a size zero.

This is what I mean when I say New York City turns it up several notches.

Finally, you reach a stage where you don’t care anymore. You can walk in to the street with a size eight shirt on tucked halfway, with khaki shorts and a pair of flip flops. And you don’t care what they think. This is when you make your own style statement. You’ve understood that its not about what you wear. It never was. It’s been your sense of self all along.

They are not important anymore. You are. There. Right there, New York City has done it’s job. Mission accomplished.

That little girl I met once.

She’s very intriguing. Maybe not. I often find myself thinking about her. About how she found the courage to go through with something so massive and yet justify it. I openly don’t admit to have loved her guts, but I know somewhere I see a lot of myself in her. I could have pulled something of that magnitude once. But I lacked the will power to surrender to the society. I have more to me than that.

I met her the morning of my wedding. She entered the room as  I sat in front of the mirror, dressed as a bride, waiting to be escorted to the venue for the big moment. It was my big day, but she sort of captured my mind for those few moments. She was just 20. She eloped. Got married to a man much much older to her. And yet, here she was, young and confident. Not an iota of doubt. How did she manage to take such a big decision on her own? And stick by it.

I was older, wiser and yet so doubtful about everything in life. I still am. I still regularly revisit important events in my life and wonder if I could have done it differently. Exams, failures, successes, people.. Could I have handled this in a different manner? Could I have been better off had this worked out for me? Is this right for me? Should I take the plunge? A constant ticking in my head. A major cause of my morning headaches.

And yet, here was a little girl, with absolutely no career prospects, zero independence, no money of her own. Her presence was overwhelming. As she walked in to the room that day, she carried a intricately woven garland made out of white flowers and a small golden idol. Both of which I had business with, before the wedding ceremony began. The garland was to be wrapped around my hair and I was to worship the idol for something that made no sense to me. I refused to do either. And I couldn’t stop myself from noticing her disappointment at this.  She asked me the reason I didn’t want to do either of these things and I explained, “The garland spoils my look. It doesn’t compliment what I was wearing and it certainly looks very tacky. Secondly, why worship this idol? I don’t see how this inanimate object would do any good for me. Is she going to magically appear out of no where and make my morning headaches disappear?”

She looked puzzled. She asked, “So you don’t do anything without having understood its purpose?”

I said, “Not just that, without being totally convinced, I wouldn’t move an inch”.

She wondered out loud, “They make me do a million things at home that I don’t want to. But traditions demands it. I’m married to the oldest son in the house and that calls for a lot of responsibility. I’m not sure I like all of it”.

There. There it was. The regret I was looking for. Not that it made me happy. Well, maybe it did. But the reason she said it out loud was because she hadn’t met anyone who told her it was ok to not like something.

In our Indian culture, as I’ve mentioned before, questioning authority or traditions is frowned upon. Absurd customs that have been undertaken since ages have lost their purpose, but not their importance. But I’ve always tired to find sense in these  practices. And questioned people who think they know better. Thats how I was brought up and I am extremely proud of it.  And here was a little girl, all of 20, who had for the first time in her life realized that it was alright for her to say that she didn’t like something. And that she wasn’t disappointing or hurting anyone. She had the rebellious streak in her. It was evident enough when she decided to move to a completely new city with an older man just having met him a few weeks earlier. 

Opinions are not valued in our society unless they come from someone with a loud voice or a strong presence.

I have no doubt that she has returned back to her life since then. A choice she made, which she might or might not stick with. Something that has set her back a million years. But at least now she knows that there’s more to life than just being the oldest son’s wife. There’s more to her.

She recently got in touch with me. Asking me to help her figure out ways to get a higher education. A means to an end. An end that would make her independent and truly confident. Unlike the illusion she was living in. I know, I was 20 once.

How to just be.

This is really difficult, you know. In a world where there is so much going on. People are so busy making something out of their lives. Around you. It’s almost like standing at a busy train station at nine in the morning and watching people pass by in the fast forward mode. While you stand still. Try to balance yourself. How to just be.

There are many facets to ‘just being’. Like, being comfortable with yourself, having a sense of fulfillment, being content, being happy. Honestly, it’s really difficult. With all the questions about your existence doing the arounds, it’s a tedious position to be in. Over the last few years, I’ve given this a lot of thought. And I’ve realized that the secret to ‘just being’ is a long drawn process called ‘living life’. It doesn’t happen overnight, neither is there a set timeframe in which you can find answers to ‘just being’. But the best part is that you can have your own rules and you can find your way through the maze on your own terms and conditions. Here’s some I did to ‘just be’:

  1. Know where to begin. Know when to stop.
  2. Know who is important to you. Have a top five persons list ready at all times.
  3. Know that there are no limits, unless you are doing something illegal. Following your dreams and having a mind of your own, does not count as illegal.
  4. Don’t be shaky about your thoughts. You don’t have to make up your mind, just have a solid frame work of what you stand by and what you don’t.
  5. Don’t let anyone intimidate you. If you know you’re right, then you most certainly are.
  6. Read. Nothing shuts up people better than facts and statistics.
  7. Know the basic laws. You don’t have to be a lawyer to know what you can and cannot do.
  8. Keep an open mind when it comes to music. You never know what might take you to a different place. Note, i’m not talking about substance here. Just pure unadulterated music.
  9. Don’t do drugs. No one needs them. Not even someone who’s just trying to be.
  10. Find a place that helps you calm down. It could be at the top of a hill or a corner of your living room. Wherever it is, this place will be an ultimate mind calming experience.
  11. Find a person who helps you relax. This is sort of difficult, considering opening up to people might make you vulnerable, but really knowing how much to let people in your lives can help.
  12. Arguing doesn’t help most of the times. If you really just want to be, don’t get caught up in trying to explain your perspective to the rest of the world. They won’t get it, if they did, they wouldn’t have questioned you.
  13. Let the past be. Just like you want to be. The past only hurts and gets you no joy. Unless you had the most amazing childhood and teen years, let the past.
  14. Find personal role models. Not one, but many. I don’t believe that one person can be so perfect as to be a role model. But many different people can have numerable good qualities. Have 10-15 role models based on their qualities you would like to emulate.
  15. Don’t let anyone bring you down. No matter what that means.
  16. Don’t let anyone comment on your lifestyle, appearance and most importantly your grammar.
  17. Save money for the bad days. Don’t blow it all up on a party for your friend who’s leaving the country. Save money for yourself. It will help you, when people abandon you because you don’t fit in their plans.
  18. Don’t ever be apologetic.
  19. Don’t ever do anything just to make someone happy. That someone can look after herself.
  20. Finally, don’t keep in touch with people who bring you down. Not everyone can be of help.

That’s all.

Why I think constantly questioning things is important.

I was bullied all through school and college. I did exactly what people asked me to do till I was about 22 years old. The only reason being, as a child I was told repeatedly, not to question people or the ways in which they do things or make you do things. Simply because it was rude to do so.

So as to not come across as a rude person, I would blindly and without any self-respect do things other people asked me to do. This meant never saying ‘no’ to anything. This meant, accepting defeat. This meant putting up with people that made you feel like absolute shit. This also meant following inanely boring indian cultural practices just to make other people temporarily happy. And I say temporarily, because in India, nobody can be happy with you forever. You’re bound to offend someone or the other at some point in time. And for most part of it, you might not even realize it. People very commonly hold grudges (excessively seen in the Indian society) and express them at the most odd hours, enough to embarrass you and your near ones in the process. Sometimes causing irreparable damage, but let’s get in to that later.

People in India are so engulfed in their traditional ways of living that they would not be able to stand a person with the ability to question and resist getting entangled in this dark abyss. But i’m getting away from the topic at hand here.

So doing things without questioning them made me really unhappy. Until one day, I looked around and realized that I was the most miserable person in the world. Well, everybody at one point or the other feels that way and this was my turn.

But that moment made me realize that just because you don’t follow or believe in the same things as other, does not necessarily translate as disobeying them. And it certainly does not mean that you are being rude. And even if it does mean that you are being rude, I found solace in the fact that at least I could live with a happy self. Not a self-loathing, society hating, rapidly being pulled towards the dark side person.

The first time I actually stood up against a older boy in my class was when he was ordering me around to bring him a glass of water and some snacks. A very dear friend pulled me aside and pointed it out to me. I hadn’t even realized it till she said something to me. I was in my own sweet oblivious world, trying to please every soul. Dead or alive. That day I put my foot down and braved his insults. That was a new beginning. It was a small victory, but I felt a tremendous rush through my head. I knew then, that I would henceforth live my life on my own terms. And I since have.

Although, in the later years, I came across a lot of people who harassed the living crap out of me. And as bad as it sounds, they only made me stronger. But people who are very obviously vicious and out to get you are not the worst of the lot. The ones that actually matter are.

For people like me, there is a constant struggle between doing the right thing and pleasing other people. There is no way you can reach a balance between these two end of a spectrum. The difficult part is to migrate from one end to the other and once that is done, you are good to go. When you are in between these points, you will hear a million people criticizing you. They will say stuff to you that will nearly break you, but that is exactly the point where you can pick up the pieces and move on and become a better person. Not for others, but for yourself. Because you should consider yourself worthy of your love and attention. What is the point of living your entire life pleasing someone else?

I often come across people who lead a rather meaningless life and it makes me extremely happy to see that I am not one of them. I’d help them see the light on the other side of the tunnel, if they really want to. Till then, god help them.

How status messages on Facebook are made?

I love those how things are made documentaries. I’ve always wanted to make one, but I could never find anything that already didn’t have a ton of stuff published on it.

This morning, while uploading a picture to Facebook, I realized, it took me a little more than 15 minutes to write a funny and quirky tagline to go with. By the end of an excruciatingly painful narrowing down process, the tagline didn’t quite go with the picture at all. Even so, it put my mind at easy. There was something distinctly ‘me’ about it. And I’m pretty sure, less than five percent on my friends list would get the humor behind it. Yet, it made me happy.

That got me thinking. Everything time a brilliant idea or thought pops in my mind, it takes on an average of about 20 minutes to translate in to a Facebook status message. And anything that requires more than fives minutes of serious brain activity, needs a how things are made kinda post about it. So here is..

A stimulus. Could be anything ranging from a comment someone made, a line from the book you are reading or something as trivial as a dripping tap. 

A parallel. All of these above mentioned stimuli must coincide at that point with the thoughts in your mind. This is the very point where a status message is conceived. Right there, thats where a status message germinates. 

But that’s not it. In order for you to feel excellent about yourself, you’ve got to post it on Facebook. And that’s where it all begins. Interval. 

After this, it could take anywhere from about 20 – 30 minutes for it to be reworded, edited, polished and posted on Facebook. A raw thought is open to criticism. So before you type in your status messages. You consider the different types of people that would read it:

Immediate family you are ‘friends’ with on Facebook: this is the group that is affected the most by your status messages. They are either elated or offended by your thoughts. In any case, they are the ones that will not comment or like your status messages. They will operate under the disguise of ‘we don’t login too much’. Trust me, there is no one, absolutely no one who doesn’t login at least once a day. Anyway, back to my point, your immediate family is the one you think about the most before you post a status message.

Influencers: Now this group is very important from a personal as well as professional point of view. It consist of professors, ex-bosses, seniors, difference makers, potential boyfriends/girlfriends, crushes that could turn into lovers and prospective in-laws you are friends with on Facebook. They could form opinions about you based on your status messages and posts. Depending on the stakes (a family alliance or a professional position you’ve eyed for a while), you can either consider or ignore members of this group. 

The herons: This is actually my husband’s find. By definition, a heron facebook user is  one who is always logged onto the social networking site. Whether he’s a busy investment banker (yes, I do believe they have facebook accounts too) or someone like me with a lot of time at hand. Heron’s are often the first ones to ‘like’ and comment on your status message. Whether they argue for or against it, a heron will always have something to say about your publicly posted thoughts. 

Occasional likers or commentors: You don’t want to offend this group. Because they are the creme-de la- creme of Facebook users. They are intellectual, opinionated, classy and the thinkers. They comment or like a status message not for its mass appeal, but because they see greater intellectual value in it. The slightest activity from them and you could count yourself amongst the likes of Socrates and the other philosopher dudes. 

Passive likers and commentors: Interesting group. They would never like or comment on anything, but the next time you see them at a party or social gathering, they’d casually slip your last explosive status message in the conversations. Something like, ‘ how about that status message you posted on Friday 8 pm about the marijuana industry in the US’. You know they are out there.. they just love to camouflage themselves. 

The Duds: You don’t really have to consider them. They are so dumb that even the most easily understood status messages would be a puzzle for them.

The witty commentors: Finally. More often than not, this group will only comment if they are contributing to the post. This could either mean, that they are refuting what you said or adding to what you said or correcting your grammar. Let them be. Don’t think about them.

While you’re running algorithms on all these different groups of people in your mind, a modified yet acceptable version of your original status message is keyed on to your page.

Finally, consider yourself. While the long drawn filtering process has taken care of all the affected and not so affected parties, you still have one more person to please. Yourself. At this stage, depending on how happy you want to make yourself, you can either post the modified, altered version or go back to the raw, crude, maybe a little offensive and uncomfortable version of your status message. 

The ‘Nothing is good enough’ syndrome.

How short is our attention span today. Almost as if we have an attention disorder of some sort, that prevents us from seeing anything through till the end. It’s like we have to move on to something else (not better, not necessarily the best) as soon as we’ve barely touched the present situation.

Facebook. Gtalk. Facebook. Pinterest. Facebook. Allwomenstalk. Check weather. Pinterest. Facebook.

And it’s fine as long as these increasingly wavering interest are restricted to the social media arena.  But if they spill over in your real life… that’s entering dangerous territories. No job is good enough. No man or woman can hold your attention for longer than a second.

It doesn’t work this way. Everything needs time and space. How else will you realize where it leads you. Giving up on something is the easiest things. But holding on, seeing it through to the other side is a real sign of a hero.

What will you be?

Exposing India’s rotten social and cultural traditions: Devdasis.

While I struggle everyday to not get embedded amongst my peers and friend as a housewife, I came across a shocking article published in the Wall Street Journal about the now legally abolished, yet highly prevalent practice of ‘Devadasis’ in India.

The article titled, ‘Where virginity is for sale in India’, talks about the obnoxious and extremely unfair tradition of selling girls that have reached puberty to the man who pays the highest. This horrid tradition has existed in various forms in the Indian society. In most of the remote villages in India (the article highlights the example of the southern village of Andhra Pradesh), girls at a very tender age are handed over to the religious authorities at the temples under the disguise of being god’s servers. As these girls reach puberty, they are secretly auctioned to the highest bidder and forcefully made to serve as prostitutes for the rest of their lives. 

As the article highlights, these young women, depending on their attributes of the cultural background or lineage they belong to have either one rich buyer (a man who has a wife and family in the village and who purchases this young girl as his keep purely for entertainment purposes.

Alternatively, if these women have few or no buyers, they would be open for business to the other available men, who cannot afford to buy them entirely for themselves. As disgusting as this sounds, the practice of ‘devadasi’ is still very much prevalent in the country. And if this wasn’t bad enough, the law makers as well as the law keepers, turn a blind eye to this. 

In the recent times, many social and non-governmental organizations have come forward to help these women, either by rescuing them or by providing an opportunity to educate themselves and in turn earn a livelihood. But unfortunately, the orthodox and rigid society in the Indian villages haven’t been able to accept them as people who are worthy of living and leading a normal life.

In India, women aren’t considered to be equals. Many a times, they are not considered to be human beings. Their presence is considered as disgrace and their opinion has no ears.

 I agree the society has progressed a lot. And an excellent example of this would be me. Having received the best education and opportunities in the country, I can exercise my rights and help the world see the darkness in the Indian customs and traditions. 

But this doesn’t help the fact that more than 75% of the women in India are still waiting to be heard. They are still waiting to be treated as normal people with needs. One look at the numbers on female infanticides will tell you the disastrous state of the female child. Sex determination in India is as illegal as smoking weed in the world. But just like the other corrupt systems, medical clinics sell their souls to reveal the gender of the child. As expected, a female child is either aborted inside the womb, buried alive or drowned in a well at birth. 

It is not uncommon in India to hear elders advising young brides to have a baby only if it is a boy. What time period are we in again? 

In this, my endeavor, I’m going to expose and highlight the absolutely inhuman and stinking culture conditions that have suppressed women in India since time has existed. Here’s an excellent article to begin with:  

Where Virginity Is For Sale in India