who studied in a residential
school where talking to
girls was despised and
reprimanded.
There was a silent
sympathy and admiration
for girls who wore chudi,
and our hidden misogyny
came out as character
assassination of
whoever wore jeans.
But times changed and
values changed and
yardsticks changed.
Yet, I still wonder if I'm
conditioned enough to
be a misogynist.
Like, I wouldn't want
my wife to burn herself
after my death-
Sati is a strict no.
But if I were in the 1900s,
would I have gone against
the family and society
for it? That's the question.
Like, would I marry a
10-year-old? Hell no.
But if I were forced into
it thirty-forty years ago,
would I have opposed it?
Maybe no.
I'm in support of widow
remarriage as long as
the widow is my wife.
But what if it were my
mother?
These random musings
turn into introspection.
Introspections expose
my own biases-
Would I marry a girl of
dark complexion?
Would I if she were a
bit overweight?
The question of virginity
always plays out.
How about dowry?
I know I fully oppose it.
But if it's sugarcoated by
layers of "How it's a gift
to your own daughter"
what can I do?
Would I allow her to work?
Allow? Yes. She can work.
Can she wear make-up
and modern dress?
Yes, to some extent.
Saree? Ghunghat?
The kitchen? The dishes?
Children? Uhh! Enough.
I guess, if it boils down
to something simple,
my feminism might end
somewhere over how much
work I'm gonna share with
her in the kitchen.
And the misogyny would
surely begin somewhere
over her decision to wear
a bikini or any other
revealing dress.