Equality??

Today, a wierd thing happened at the petrol pump. I was at the end of a long endless queue, I was late to college but i had no other option so i was standing behind a gentleman. Suddenly a girl zoomed past me and halted ahead of the man. I hate people jumping ahead in queues, I have witnessed altercations at railway ticket windows and it gets ugly, my blood boils, but usually there are hot-headed males who do the honours, so I have never really needed to take a stand.
But never has this happened at a petrol pump. I assumed the man ahead of me would say something, but he looked at her curiously and said and did nothing, I crept up next to him and asked him,

"Vo aage kaise gayi?"
"Pata nai"
"To aap kuch bolo na"
"Nai, ladki hai! aap bol sakte hai, hum nai!"

I was taken aback by that reaction. Stil i mustered up courage and spoke to her..
"Excuse me, hum line me khade hai."
"Ha to?"
"Ha to, aap aage kaise gayi?"
"Mere saath bahut baar aise hua hai ki, log mere aage gaye hai."
"To thik hai, unko bolo na phir peeche jaaneko, humare saath aisa kyu kar rahi hai aap?"
"aap ko jaana hai kya age?"
"Haaa, phir? Pehle ye uncle jaayenge, phir mai, phir aap jaana, thik hai?"
"thik hai!"

We fell silent.
But what i though odd, was that she unabashedly justified her actions. I would have agreed if it was an emergency, but it wasn't. I have always thought what would happen to someone who was in an emergency, needs to get to the hospital and rushes past in the queue. But this wasn't the case here. And i thought of the man, he did not want to argue with her, just because she was a girl!

There are similar situations in buses. It takes me a lot of courage to ask a man to get up from a seat reserved for women. But the regular travellers are very bold in doing so. It may seem unfair to men that there are seats reserved for women, but then being a girl whose travelled in buses for 5 years, and the exhaustion one feels with a huge bag, the groping, the fighting that occurs over seats, it's not about being fair, its about a necessity.

The aim of writing this is that, there are places where society has made life easy for women, and there are legitimate reasons for that. We must speak up for what is rightfully ours, but not exploit it, so that men who really treat us as equals become apathetic for fear of being wrongly labelled as male chauvinists.

Glittery Broken Dreams

She sat on the side walk, feet apart, panting. The hot May sun was merciless. She felt the persisting queasiness. She could feel vomit right upto her throat. She wanted to vomit the foetus in her womb right then.

In the distance, she saw the frail figure of her father, shoulders drooping with the burdens a man bears. She saw him ask for water. Her mother stared after her father, back turned to her daughter, her hand arched over her forehead as if somehow the sun would seem less cruel.

The nausea reminded her of the only rides she ever took on a swing as a little girl. A waft of hot air blew on that dusty afternoon which rustled the sweat beads on her forehead and they crawled down her cheeks. She felt the coolness for but a moment & then she felt the surge of vomit again. She felt the vast expanse close in on her. Her head beat like a wild drum. She swirled and swayed in the hot stagnant air as if possessed.

But she was praying; praying that this ordeal be over soon; that this misery end; that she be able to forget this life that she ever lived, and she could feel the end near.

She had dreamt like any 21 year old in the chawl, someday her prince would sweep her off her feet, and deliver her from this pathetic place. Her dreams crumbled like their temporary roofs, when she found she was with child and the “prince” refused to marry her. She was tainted now, her family the centre of ridicule. Stigmatised and ostracised, they moved to the city.

As she ran her hand over her swelling belly, she thought of the glittery dreams and the lucrative promises made to her once, a flat in a building with water 24x7, a car to roam the city, a safe box of gold, richest of foods on the table, money whenever she wanted; she envisioned herself standing at the threshold of her dream home, hand in hand with her prince, blushing uncontrollably, happy at new memories to be created; she floated through the life of her dreams, thrilled to be leaving behind a life of want and poverty; never to look back at the life that was once hers.

But the queasiness spiralled her back to reality with dizzying speed. Now, in the middle of nowhere, she was expected to start a new life, with a new life in her. She looked down at her unborn child and wrapped her arms around her stomach as if embracing it. She measured the consequences of her decision. She could not bear to see her parents suffer this way. She looked at her father approaching with a bottle of water. She saw his dark face glisten with perspiration. She glanced at the back of her mother, her slender neck and waist which she had inherited. Suddenly she felt the pain shoot up her belly, and she let out a loud cry of anguish. She collapsed onto the side walk, and start quivering as the fits over powered her body. Her mouth frothed with a creamy liquid.

As she heard the last sounds of her mother and father screaming her name, she loosened her fist and a tiny bottle rolled onto the road.