Phenomenal Woman

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I'm telling lies.
I say,
It's in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.I say,
It's the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.They try so much
But they can't touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can't see.
I say,
It's in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.I'm a woman

Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Now you understand
Just why my head's not bowed.
I don't shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It's in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
the palm of my hand,
The need of my care,
'Cause I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Maya Angelou


Someone once told me that a woman should be perfect and unspoiled.She is like a flower which has both beauty and fragrance.But a woman can be as tough as steel,as soft as feather,as fast as wind and yet she will remain a woman.A phenomenal woman is one who lets go off all the inhibitions and embraces the uniqueness inside her with open arms.She is the one who rides against the tide and reaches the zenith.She is the one who challenges the predefined notions of beauty and grace and becomes a pioneer of new definitions.A phenomenal woman is a passionate lover but she never seeks shelter in someone's heart.She is not ashamed of her imperfections,she brandishes them with pride.She knows she can't be perfect yet she knows she is powerful enough to set the dimensions for perfection. The phenomenal woman doesn't feel embarrassed everytime she looks in the mirror,but instead she keeps her head high and wonders how many hearts she can actually melt once her feet touch the ground.

When was the last time you danced in the rain?

 When was the last time you danced in the rain?

Your feet broke into an exuberant laughter and you bent your head till you could see the sky so close,you could touch the clouds,the water would roll down your cheeks,your eyes could feel the cold,your breath would smell of moisture,your skin would cringe like the pages of an old book,there will be wind in your hair,and wild ecstasy in your face,people would stop to see you and wonder,what makes her so happy?The day ends in such a hurry and the lassitude after the work grips the limbs,we only want some food and the pillow beneath our head,but look at her,she is so happy,she must have nothing to do,her father must be a rich man,she must be a princess,or she must have lost her mind.

She is not a princess.She goes to school every morning and sits on those wooden benches.The day drags along with the teacher's speech,her eyes remain fixed on the blackboard as the teacher scribbles the important formulae,she takes out her notebook and writes down the notes,she doesn't make a sound,sometimes her mind withers away to the azure skies,the cuckoos call her and the pigeons beckon her.Sometimes she looks up at the ceiling and thinks of all the stars that she can't see because of the concrete around her.How wonderful would it be if the chrome buildings fell down and quaffed in all the colors of the world?

And when the bells ring,she runs across the courtyard to catch a glimpse of the squirrels that play in the trees.She can hear them crackling up their own nutty jokes and laughing at their human counterparts.They live such a small life and their dreams are so small,she thinks.My father says I have to be someone really famous like Rabindranath and Netaji and make my country proud.She prances as she walks towards her home.And like every other day,she finds her mother sitting on the porch waiting for her brother.Her body has become frail but she won't take a single piece of bread.She won't touch the water till she gets to see her boy's face.

"My Iswaran will come,he will come."Sometimes she falls asleep and calls out Iswaran's name in her dreams.She says she saw Iswaran,he was playing in the fields and flying a blue kite.

She sits beside her mother and tells her "Look,what I made for Iswaran.When he comes,I'm going to feed him with my own hands."

"Yes,he will love them.He loves laddoos,But it has been a year,why hasn't he called?Doesn't he remember me?"

"He will call,Mother.Look at the sky,do you know that we are a part of a huge galaxy.And these stars are actually much bigger than us.We are just tiny ants to them."

"Mother,when Iswaran comes,I'll dress you up in that red saree.Iswaran said you look beautiful in it."

Her father stands watching them.A few days ago,a letter had come from the hospital.They said all the staff who had gone to Syria last year,were  captured by the terrorists.Iswaran's best friend used to work in there and he had gone to help his family.They said,the last time they saw Iswaran;he was running away from a man clad in black dress who shot him down.The man had shouted "Allahu Akbar" and gored Iswaran's body with 10 bullets.Iswaran groaned in pain and the last thing he ever said was "Tell my mother,her Iswaran is fine".They had managed to bury his body somehow.The gunmen didn't want to leave a trace of anyone's body on the earth,they were slaughtering everyone,women and children.The entire country is nothing but a mound of dead.

His father had hidden the letter in the cupboard.

Just the day before,he saw his daughter dancing in the rain.She looked like a fairy while she danced.He wanted to call her but the sight of her spreading her arms in the wind like a bird had left him mesmerized,Iswaran was the one who made her  jump on the puddles,he would take her to the countryside to show her the rainbow when the skies cleared.Iswaran had taught her that she can paint everything with her smile.It was because of Iswaran,that his daughter lives everyday with the hope of making the world a happier place.And that part of her life was gone.He felt guilt in his heart for concealing this truth from her.What would happen to the surreal world she had created around her?Will she ever dance in the rain?Will she ever laugh?Will she ever forgive the humanity for butchering her brother like a pig?Her mother is already dying but Iswaran's death will kill her soul.And the daughter whom Iswaran built with his own hands will be broken beyond repair.

The thunder can be heard.Flashes of lightning illuminated the entire village.He was almost going to shut the door when he sees her,spreading her arms again like a flower that has started blossoming.She sings her own song,she dances along and calls out "Iswaran,mother is waiting for you.Come back soon.I have made laddoos for you".He closes the door and crumbles behind it like a wounded warrior.

Hope

Last night I was surfing through random articles,when I came across this post that sent jitters down my spine.

The woman's face was covered with black dupatta.Her face was incoherent,but as she approached towards the mirror,I found out she had no eyes.She had two holes in place of her eyes,though she roamed around properly.There were traces of skin on her face,and she kept touching her face as she looked in the mirror.She was yet another acid-attack victim or rather a survivor.

Her name is Sheela.She led a normal life just like any other girl.Her marriage was going through rough waters but her job put an end to all the miseries.She and her husband were finally relieved.But,life had something else planned for us.Her boss tried to take advantage of her,to which she promptly objected.At first she tried to avoid him,but as his behavior became unbearable,Sheela left her job.She didn't know of the consequences she would have to suffer because of rejecting her boss's inappropriate advances.And one fateful night,a group of men threw acid on her face in the bus.That was the day,she turned into a stone,her chest became so heavy that she could barely move.

She recounts saying "I shrieked like I had never shrieked before and I don't think I'll ever shriek like that again"

But no one came to help.People had gathered around to look at her,but no one bothered to take her to the hospital.She sat down on the ground crying.Her face was burning,the pain was too much to bear.And to add to her agony,her husband abandoned her.Her friends left her.She was never accepted anywhere,she never got another job.People in the society blamed her for her condition.That man who destroyed her life was never punished.Being an influential person,he was never questioned by the police and no investigation ever took place.

Sheela's life lost all meaning and purpose 5 years ago.

Her wounds never healed,she never got justice.With the help of her parents,she has been able to undergo 15 surgeries.But she needs our help and support to be fully cured.

There was only one question I had after listening to her,are we humans?Do we deserve to be called by that name?Our gluttony and inability to deal with rejections has turned us into blood-sucking creatures.Someone once said,humans are the only animals who kill for pleasure.This man ruined the life of a young girl by burning her face,taking away her eyesight.And what price did he have to pay?None.He is enjoying his life like everyone else,while Sheela struggles for justice.There is no guarantee whether she will ever get that,because only money can buy you justice in our country,the poor and the middle class have no place.With the help of some NGOs Sheela has been able to reopen the case but justice is still a distant dream.

I will not elaborate on male chauvinism and male ego,cause that's an issue that people have been discussing about since times immemorial.Rape has become a way to common affair in our country.Domestic violence still exists.Female foeticide is a curse that exists in a lot of educated families.Dowry is largely prevalent in some states.And there is no end to cyber crimes,harassment,eve-teasing and molestation that women have to go through everyday.But the women are standing up against these crimes.People are reporting these crimes.Victims no longer have to face social stigma,they are being morally supported by their friends and families.

But in Sheela's case,she still has to face social stigma.People judge her on the basis of her appearance.But she is a hero amidst all the morons around her.

She decided to end her life once,but she couldn't.She is someone who will fight till the very end and her story is an inspiration for all those people who think depression and not getting a job are reasons to kill themselves.Grow up folks.It's time we learn something from people like Sheela.It's astonishing to see her not breaking down even once in front of the camera,the way she conducts herself throughout the entire conversation.She believes that crying isn't going to solve anything.It's better she tries to find a solution.She doesn't know whether she is courageous or not but she needs support,financial as well as mental.

Courageous is an understatement for someone like her.With her fight,she has already proved that she is stronger than most of us.She is a beautiful woman,her appearance can't take away her beauty.She is far more beautiful than the make-up stained actresses who walk on the red carpet and make news for the clothes they wear.A woman's beauty lies in her strength and not her face.And Sheela is an example of that.

Sheela's story will remain etched in my heart forever.She is one of my role models now.Hats off to you,Sheela.




There are thousands of girls in India who fall prey to acid attacks.It's time we pay more attention to these problems rather than protecting our cows.
Please visit this site:http://www.stopacidattacks.org/

Eternal Paradise

 "And yesterday I saw you kissing tiny flowers,
But all that lives is born to die.
And so I say to you that nothing really matters,
And all you do is stand and cry."

The Led Zeppelin song was playing in my laptop as the rains drizzled down the window panes.It was almost 3 and there was not a single living being outside.I closed the book I was reading and lay ensconced in my bed humming the tune.The song was reminiscent of numerous farewells,forgotten faces,people who had been there once but now they were gone.I closed my eyes and I heard some voices in my head.I could see some known faces, a house in the middle of the woods.That was my home once.I used to stay in Sonarpur,a small town nestled in the corner of the city.It has been ten years since I  left that place as the train journeys at night were becoming tiresome.I had spent 10 years of my life there surrounded by the most amazing people whom I had known.I had grown up there,I had learnt to walk there and I had made my first friends there.Sonarpur was quite populated unlike other towns and over the years,it has changed itself with great celerity.And one day,the government declared it a part of Kolkata.If you ever come to Sonarpur by train,you would be overwhelmed by mother nature's mesmerizing beauty.Verdant meadows where the cows graze,the small huts far away,the sun peeking from the countryside,the birds flying to far away lands forming an origami in the sky.You will hear the sound of the stream and the cranes quenching their thirst,pecking at their feathers.The women from the nearby villages washing their clothes and carrying pitcher full of water as they sing some lullaby.You will find children playing in the fields with pieces of wood and often sitting on the coconut trees trying to get fresh coconuts.And in the Autumn,there would be kashful all along the railway tracks.The gentle zephyr would make their heads sway in harmony and you will wonder only if William Wordsworth was born here,he would have written a poem on our kashful instead of the daffodils.

I had lots of friends in Sonarpur.Some older,and some younger.Deba,Tuna,Raja,Lucy Di,Babai Dada.They seemed to be the most inevitable part of my childhood,they came as they went.I used to play all sorts of games with them,hide-and-seek,kabadi were too mainstream.I used to play cricket with the boys.I was quite a good player.I used to dress like a guy most of the time and was quite dependable as a team player.Deba and I always wanted to be in the same team.He was the best player.Cricket would be part of the afternoon schedule and the mornings were more or less like Famous Five,Jurassic Park and Tintin clumped together-children stranded in the island, sometimes we were chased by the dinosaurs and we would hide under the beds.Tuna would always be the damsel in distress abducted by monsters and aliens and the rest of us would try to rescue her.
Birthdays at Sonarpur were the best.Two birthday cakes,one from my parents and one from my sister.Photo sessions and princess diaries,balloons and crackers.Good food made by mom and party songs.Gifts that came wrapped in colourful papers.Me and my gang often hanged out at an open spot near the railway tracks.We were often joined by other kids.There was some kind of animosity between them and us ,maybe because they were a but more sophisticated than us.Anyways,our games ended with heated arguments between the kids and we returned home only to be scolded by mom to sit down and do the homework at the end of the day.


Holi was one thing we waited for every year.We would buy lots of colours and throw them at random people on the streets.Once, we were out of colours and Deba suggested that we play with paints.Well,it didn't turn out to be a great idea at the end of the day.

It was 2005 when father decided to shift to Kolkata permanently.I acquiesced in his decision but I couldn't tell my friends that all our games will be over now.That year,father didn't let me play Holi.He said that I am growing up and I need to be more careful now.I was saddened by the fact that I was growing up to be some woman who was no longer eligible to play her silly games.Deba would call me everyday but I would say I can't.

 

"I don't know how I'm gonna tell you,
I can't play with you no more,
I don't know how I'm gonna do what mama told me,
My friend, the boy next door."

And the day came faster than I thought.All our belongings were packed.Some strange people had bought our house.I was vexed by the very thought of giving away my beloved house to someone I don't know.That person would be sleeping in my room and sitting in my balcony.This used to be my Eden and now the flowers will no longer bloom here once I'm gone.I used to cry inconsolably when no one was watching and asked God to make my Dad change his decision to go.But I had to go.I still remember their faces when I said the last goodbye.The gang leader was leaving.Who will guide them now?
There was a point of time when I used to think I would come to Sonarpur everyday and play with my friends,but all those thoughts lost meaning as I indulged myself in the pleasures of the city life.I never met my friends after that farewell.I don't know what they look like now.Do they think of me?Do they remember me?I am oblivious of their lives as they are of mine.

The rain has stopped by this time.I was overwhelmed by the rush of memories that had occupied my mind for a few hours.Sonarpur,the indelible part of my life,the place where I belong,the place of my dreams,the eternal love of my life.My Malgudi,my Nischindopur,my Aberdeen.I slowly fell asleep..

"That's the way, oh,
That's the way it ought to be,"

The Gift

Cathy was lying in her bed staring blankly at the walls.It was almost time for her lunch but she wasn't  feeling hungry.He roommate Nirmala had to be admitted to the hospital yesterday.Her heart problems had resurfaced.Cathy knew there were little chances of her survival,not because she was very old but she had wished to die earlier.Nirmala would say "Life has been wonderful to me once but I have nothing to live for now.it's better I die a peaceful death soon."And she would whisper some words in Sanskrit which Cathy didn't understand.Well,none of the inhabitants of this place had anything to live for.They had all been abandoned by their families and so they were here.Together,they prayed,they sang,they ate and sometimes looked at the gates if a familiar face could be seen looking for them.Days turned to months,and months became years.But there was no sign of anyone.People died and more people joined.There was never any dearth of time.They were taked care of,they had everything they needed,well, of course not everything. What does one need when he grows old? Family,some grandchildren and finally death in the arms of their own children.That would be a death one desires,not a death within the walls of an old-age home where people waited for years before they closed their eyes, what kind of dignity is there in this death?what peace?what assurance?who will cry at the funeral?It's just death and then nothing.

Cathy got up and sat on the bench that overlooked the river.That was the only place where she found a bit of solace.Today she found another man siting there.He was about 30 and this was the first time she had seen someone so young in the home.She asked him "Are you looking for someone?" He replied "Oh no,madam.Please sit.".He moved aside and made space for her.Cathy looked at him with curious eyes but he simply smiled at her."I am Rajesh.What's your name,madam?". "I am Cathy Adams". "So,tell me about yourself,Cathy. You look interesting to me". Cathy laughed. "What interesting things could you find about an old woman living in an old-age home?" "You had a life before you came here.Tell me about that." It had been a long time since someone had asked her about her past-life.She started telling. "I was born in a Catholic family in Pondicherry.My father was a French man and my mother was an Anglo-Indian.I was their only child and they pampered me with everything.Beautiful tailor-made gowns,dolls,chocolates from all over the world. Sometimes father would take me on voyages,well,he was a sailor.I visited many cities and one day I met Russell.He used to stay at Kolkata.Oh!he was one handsome man.Wherever he would go,women would look at him.Russell was my first love.We got married at Kolkata in 1955.After a few days of our marriage,my father died.My mother passed away as she couldn't bear the grief.I was orphaned but I had a loving husband.He used to  bring home records of Johnny Cash and Elvis Presley on his way back from his trips.We would dance and drink wine and make love.Our love flourished everyday.We went for our honeymoon in Kashmir.And there I had my baby.My only baby,Peter.Oh what joy could one have when she holds her little baby and can feel his heart beating.I can still see him smiling in his sleep.He would never leave my finger till he fell asleep.Sometimes he would make cute little noises in his sleep. It was the most beautiful melody in the world.Russell and I took him to Dehradun to Russell's ancestral place.That was the perfect place for him to grow up.The hills,the fountains,the birds,the flowers.My baby was the happiest child in this whole world.And I was the happiest woman.I have been blessed with the loveliest of all creations of the Almighty. And then the day came when Russell died.He was buried at Dehradun next to his parents.Peter was 5 years old then. He would ask me where his Daddy went. And I would say his Daddy was in a happier place.And he would say,how can he be happy without us?How could I lie to him?I kissed him and asked him to promise me that he would never leave me alone.And he said,Mum,I cannot go anywhere without you.I won't leave you  like Daddy.And I cried.From that day  I secretly made a promise never to let him go.I used to work as a nurse in the hospital.Peter used to live with the neighbours till I came back.I taught him how to dress like a gentleman,how to be polite,to respect women.Peter was handsome like Russell.He was like a magnet.He would attract everyone wherever he went.He was kind,gentle and adorable.Teachers loved him,neighbors worshiped him.And for me he was the reason to live,to die.I could make myself miserable for his happiness,in him,I found my God.Peter wanted to study abroad.So,I saved all the money I had earned for his education.When he was 20,he went away abroad.He got admission at Oxford.He used to send me letters saying that it was the best place he has ever been to. He wanted me to go there sometimes.But I never had time.And there wasn't much money left in the bank.But I decided not to trouble him with my problems.I gave up every penny I earned to provide him with new clothes every year.And one day, his letter came. It said "Mum,I am getting married.Her name is Daisy.I wanted you to be there at the wedding,but,Daisy said she couldn't wait anymore.Give us your blessings,I will be back home soon to meet you.Regards from Daisy." There was a picture of him and his bride-to-be inside the envelope.And I threw it away in rage.I couldn't bear the fact,that woman snatched away the most precious thing in my life.I wished his marriage ended soon and he came back here to live with me again.But I was wronged.He never came back nor did I hear back from him again.I used to send him letters and he would give me no reply.Sometimes he would reluctantly answer back saying he was fine.And he had a son.He would never ask me how I was.What had become of me without him? I cursed myself for being such  a selfish bitch.Suddenly I remembered my boy's promise. But that promise was just a mindless rambling of a little boy to console his mother.That day,I realized I had lost everything.And I came back to Kolkata selling everything I had.And after some years.I joined this home.This is my life now.I still wait for Peter sometimes.But now,I only wish him happiness and I hope my grandson would know that his granny loves him too."

Cathy stopped.She had been speaking at a stretch for a long time.She looked at the stranger who had been listening to her since half an hour."Miss.Cathy,do you know all the precious and great things are lonely in this world?Look at the river,the mountains,the moon.How sad and lonely!".Cathy asked "But you didn't tell me anything about you.Why are you here?This is not a place a young man like you would prefer." Rajesh said"This is exactly the place where I wanted to be.This is the place I built with my own hands.This is the place where I want to grow old someday and then die.I know I sound delirious.But it's true. I was a boy with no one years ago.My mom was a whore and my dad an alcoholic.They sold me to some factory owner when I was just 4.I worked like a dog for years.I never went to school and I never had anything to eat except stale bread.I didn't get enough sleep.The machines would wake me up at 5 in the morning and our day would start.There were other kids too,some had to work here to help their families,some had lost their parents in an earthquake,some had been sold just like me.My master would whip me if I stopped to take rest.And I would suppress my pain.Who was there to hear me cry?We were free on Sundays.Then we would go to the market place to have good food.Then I would see kids with their mothers.How they used to cry till they got what they wanted.I searched for my mother at times.I didn't even know where she lived.But I remembered her face.And I still remember her face.I loved her but she had never loved me.And then an NGO rescued us,they fed us good food,educated us.I loved to study.I enjoyed the smell of new books.I loved to study history and geography. I could know about people and places.Whenever someone new came, I would ask him or her to tell me stories.I would listen with rapt attention.I would draw pictures in my head about the places he was talking about.And when I grew up,I joined the Oil company.I had to sit at the desk and supervise people.I never hurt them.I took care of them.I listened to their problems and with all the money I built this old-age home.I named it after my mother.And with time all these people became my parents.Whenever I come here,they give me good food,they would feed me hand-made pickle and I just feel the greatest joy in the world.How it feels to be someone's child.Miss.Cathy,you lost your child and I lost my parents.They may not be dead,but we are dead to them.I lost the reason to live when I was just a child.But God gave me a thousand reasons to live years after that.They gave me not one,but so many parents.And I am lucky to be their child.So,why shouldn't I be here Miss.Cathy?"

Cathy had no words.Till now,she only had regrets.But she realized that she wasn't the only one in this world who was lonely..She looked at Rajesh and saw a strange delight in his face.She realized she has done nothing to deserve this loneliness.And now she has it,she would rather cherish it as a gift.She remembered those lines from Ruskin Bond's book which she used to read after Peter left:

                                 " The pure,the bright,the beautiful,
                               That stirred our hearts in youth,
                               The impulse to a wordless prayer,
                               The dreams of love and truth;
                               The longings after something lost,
                               The spirit's yearning cry,
                               The striving after better hopes...
                               These things can never die"
                                                     
                                                              Sarah Doudney