Posted in Experiences Around

Isn’t Women’s Day over-rated?

Now all the feminists out there mustn’t bash me! Here’s “why not” to reason why…..

What I mean is aren’t we much better than one single day of appreciation? One day of appreciating women (which is like herd mentality) doesn’t get too far nor proves any point. The person might be wife beater but to the colleagues on WhatsApp he might send beautiful Happy Women’s Day messages – Who knows? Ya?

I don’t feel happy about women’s day. Frankly speaking, it further stereotypes the gender differences and pushes our children further to believe that women need only one day to please and rest of the year is gone unnoticed like a shadow behind the man of the house. It makes our children prone to indulge in excuses and hypocrisy that can be all undone in a single day of showmanship. It makes our children think that dualism in personality and roles are perfectly acceptable in our society. It makes our children laugh at the in-congruence of the thought and action and yet cloak themselves in it.

And all this does seem to leave a bitter after taste in the rose-tinted day of a woman’s life. We know we can’t have appreciation and boosts coming our way, or we can’t have it all – yet we know how to stand up and be strong, continuing to inspire each other.  So if you ask me I would take up the “Aunty Acid” anyday anytime and believe me, she’s a perfectly rational and no-nonsense role model.

And while you think what I’m trying to achieve by writing this post… well Maya Angelou has said it really well in her poem “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
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
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

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
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.



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