Hi:
Hope the morning’s good. I got up feeling great about myself and everything about me. Just an intuition and great to have such intuitions, I thought and picked up the newspaper.
Ah! It is International Women’s Day. I should have understood why I was feeling great about myself; I didn’t – I felt a little peeved now and my stomach started churning. No! It wasn’t the call of nature but something about this day.
Hello boss, another caste system – International Women’s Day! Pooh!
‘Hello? What is it to be so upset about? Doesn’t it have to do with celebrating a woman?’
‘Yeah, yeah, sure!’
‘Stop being sarcy.’
This conversation with me-myself was turning out to be nerve-grating but it went on and on.
‘I mean what is there to celebrate?’
‘Now this sacrilege! The whole world is going ga-ga-hoo-haa about it and you find now cause to celebrate?’
‘No!’
‘Why?’
‘If I celebrate today it simply means I am trying to be defensive, apologetic about being present in this male-dominated society.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I do celebrate, but not on anyone particular day but day-after-day. I celebrate each moment of being alive as a woman. I celebrate being born, being the daughter of my parents, the education I got, the career path I have chosen for myself, my body, my sexuality, my thought process, my individuality. I don’t have to burn my bra to prove I’m free. ‘
I’M FREE! That’s it!
End of discussion!
‘Isn’t that reason enough to celebrate? Sorry but my celebrations today are no different from the way I celebrate life every day.’
‘Point taken.’
‘Thanks, now I have to rush to work.’
@caretaker
