Femi(nist)nine

When gender confused me, I turned to evolutionary psychology

Because the concepts of femininity and masculinity always confused me

I wanted to understand if there was some truth in the stereotypes,

Or if they were just illusions society had created for me.

You see I played with Barbies rather than Hot Wheels all my life

But I still didn't know it was mine or society's choice.

As I stumbled upon gender and it's theories

I began to push against the boundaries of my side of the binary

Not realising in my excitement to rebel

That not all of me fit in the other side.

The thing is... I sucked at being a tomboy

I liked ballet and hated sports but

I wanted to be one of those soccer girls

Who seamlessly fit into that ideal of empowerment

I wanted to be one of those Iron women who never cried

Who overcame emotion and romantic notion

To become symbols of strength.  To be glorified.

Somewhere I had internalized.

This feeling that being feminine was a weakness that I had to overcome to survive.

The thing is I knew that the world was going to pack every human quality

Neatly into two differently labelled boxes of the gender binary

And pretend they were at two ends of the scale

But little did I know that they won't be weighed and valued the same.

Because in the strangest and subtlest of ways,

We do not value masculinity and femininity the same.

I mean why is it considered a compliment to be called a father's not daughter but son

Why is 'girly' an insult?

Justin Bieber was wrong for many more reasons than just sounding like a girl.

Why is being emotional and empathetic for the soft and weak?

It's like saying mental trauma as compared to battle wounds is less important to treat.

Everytime the boy got beaten up for being a pansy

My skin turned black and blue

Because according to their standards

I was one too

Why do I see people of my own gender

Claim to be the 'other'

Claim to be better

Than the typical girly cliques.

What is girly and why is it unintelligent or weak?

Combat boots are no more difficult to walk in than high heels

Make-up could be war paint

And the decision to wear it-a choice

Vanity isn't always a vice.

Why are we so judgemental of supersonic fangirls?

Why assume that they're the unintelligent ones and not obsessive Megan Fox fanboys.

Why is it easier for a girl to play with boy's toys

And not the other way round?

To act out aggression is as messed up as being dramatic and have too much to feel

Are chick flicks really that unintelligent and unreal?

Because honestly their plotlines where the best friend's sister's boss falls in love with the smaller sister who is actually banging the husband's stepmother

Is as complicated as the plot of the latest avenger's movie.

And both are equally distant from and yet reflect reality

The thing is I have spent too much time sanitizing the femininity out of me

To be able to be more than what society expects out of me.

And that should never have been necessary

If I wanted to be one of those strong independent women,  I shouldn't have to be like men

I should just have to be myself.

I shouldn't have waited for gay men dancing in flamboyant dresses

To make me realise that femininity can be embraced and is not regressive

I shouldn't have waited...

When I proudly declared I watched the Royal Wedding with the kind of interest we reserve for India Pakistan matches

To be met with an awkward silence

As though rooting for a love story

Made me take a few steps down in dignity

I refuse to step down now

From my pink princess pedestal

I refuse to be shamed for all those parts of me that you consider girly

Because I jump when I see ants

I am the emotionally vulnerable poet

Who could be in a princess dress and not pants

And still deserve to be called badass.

Maybe it's time we go beyond just breaking stereotypes

And start revaluing the truth behind them.

That maybe this inequality starts way deeper under us.

Because maybe we don't need to wait for death to be the leveller

When we the living can be equalizers

I won't see the world to be an ideal

Till a girl in a pink dress and a boy in a pink dress are seen as equal in strength

Maybe femininity has no gender.

Maybe there is no gender.

And when you dismantle the two boxes, their contents will be worth the same.

Neither deserving of any shame.

The Radioactive Emotional

To those who say rejection is a kick in the gut

To me it’s a growing unease, but

It grows like a highly infectious disease

Burning through a delirious me.

The stirring in my gut doesn’t stop

Every time I see them, something inside drops

Lurching forward I maintain a straight face

To mask my twisted mind and insides.

I wait for those moments of release

When the rest of life distracts me.

A flash of searing emotion.It is uncontrollable these days

I’m uneasy but see no other way.

I can’t change them. But I can’t change me more

It intensifies more every time than before

I’m afraid the unease will grow and grow

Till one day it swallows me whole.

I seek emptiness more than space

Where pain exists, to be worn with a poker face

Where silences and omissions

Become my way.

Of coping with being emotional.

I am trying hard to maintain some dignity

But the unease makes me lurch over

And bow down to your fate unwillingly.

I want to bury myself in my own grave

Put myself to rest one of these days

But I am beginning to think

This spiraling will bring

No peace to the radioactive emotional.

The Beginning

I wrote this more than a year ago when I was at a crossroads and after a year of being able to survive design school, I am glad that I made it to the 'Somewhere'.

 What do you do when you realize that for the first time in your life you have good chance of being nothing more than average? You log off the NID website and do facebook.

       You see, I have spent most of my life coming first in class, being the experienced one in art classes and winning competitions of all sorts.I have always been the model student, the talented child, the brainy one. I have had people showering praises on me, most of which I never felt I deserved or required but accepted nevertheless ( I sound terrible describing myself in such a way. I know. I am going and hiding under a rock right now but I need to be honest.) 

      So 4 days after my academic career finally ends with the end of my  board exams, I realize that I am finally free.But I am exposed. I am walking into the unknown where for the first time in my life I will not be judged by my marks. I will also not have them serve as a buffer to delude people into thinking that I may be somewhat smart. I have spent my entire life trying to convince myself I am worth something and now, without my buffer, I will be forced to deal with these insecurities head on. I will have no choice but to be myself. which if you told a 13 year old nerdy me would have been a pretty sweet deal but when you are forced to confront the fact that the "real you" could be just average, it becomes a difficult reality to face.

    So while the rest of my friends are celebrating the almost-end of their board exams, I am left to wonder why I am not. I knew that I would not get in. People had tried to make me believe I could but I never dreamed of actually being there. I always belonged somewhere else. A Somewhere I am trying to make myself work to get to right now. but I just wanted a sign that I could be more than just average ,you know?

      But I know, for real now, that I am going to have to work my ass off to be more than average. I will not be surprising myself by doing better than I expect anymore. Maybe it is time I start measuring my work by what it is worth rather than by how much more than others it is worth. I left the beaten path to chase dreams which not only give me the worst nightmares but also the wildest joy. I need to start enjoying the journey. Even if it leads nowhere. The people at Somewhere seem to understand that. Even when few others do. For them it is a place for hippies. For me it means freedom. Even if it comes at the cost of security. A security that makes you believe you are more than average.

     Yesterday I wrote that if it begins with an end, can I ever be enough? Maybe I will not. But it still is a beginning. Beginnings are never to be feared. 

Coloured

If Holi is a festival of colours

I have been coloured by shame

Blame. There is no name

For the fear that crippled me

When hordes of drunk men screamed Happy Holi Madam Log at my friend and me.

When the elderly uncle on a scooter looked at our coloured faces and in disgust said "Yeh kya hain?"

When I misinterpreted other screams of Happy Holi from college students just like me

As harassment. Honestly

I don't know what it was.

Just like I don't when another person commented while passing by me

I was wearing my shortest sleeves. Was that what they had seen?

I don't know what it was. What it is.

When I heard they began approaching her but stopped midway in their violent revelry.

When they tried to kick us from their moving motorcycle.

She yelled "Piece of shit!". I hope they heard

Just like we did a few minutes later when two others on a motorbike screamed

Happy Holi Madam as they passed by us.

Fear is just like a dream.

Uncontrollable. You just want it to end.

For safety, we took an autorickshaw to pass through darker streets

Slow and mumbling, he was high. Maybe drunk.

I don't know what he was.

I don't know what this is.

Our destination was the bus stop outside the rapist lane

Patches of darkness everywhere.

What use is a streetlight when traffic's there? The streets seemed to say

I wouldn't have minded a bit of light

To just dispel the darkness of the fear as we walked. And walked. And walked

I have to walk again tonight.

For just a few minutes from my home to the mess.

But every dark corner has turned into a potential location 

For my waking nightmares to come true.

I have been screaming in my head

But I will have to walk tonight. 

Even if every step feels like a criminal's walk towards the noose

I feel criminal for fearing a daily reality so much

Maybe tomorrow I will feel less scared.

It is just a process I guess.

Because tomorrow I will walk alone.

I will never stop walking alone.

The Weird Kid Chronicles #2

This is what happens when you take a course called "Images of Violence".

The Weird Kid Chronicles #1

This is what happens when I stalk my seniors on Behance

Random Rain

Why write for absent eyes only?

I write for myself, revealing little only to those who understand

Seeking strangers is a mystery

I feel the rain changing my history

My battles are ending

I hope

Tomorrow I will plant my feet on the wet ground

And I will be home.

Because I have created one.