This one's for y'all

I was three-years-old when I first saw my father being violent. It was around 2pm and he was taking his afternoon nap in his room. My mom was trying to put me to sleep in the hall. I lay on her lap bloody bored. I tried my best to move away from her and play. Did I mention that my dad gets furious even if there is the slightest noise while he sleeps? Well, now I guess you can get a picture of what might have happened following this.

That was the first time I was physically abused as well. The intensity only became higher as the years passed by.

23 and still the scars remain. 

The last attack about a few months ago. You might have read it in my previous blog. Well, I am not writing this personal account today to gain sympathy. Nor do I yearn for your empathetic reactions. I am not even sure if anyone might read this post. However, I have a reason to pour out today. 

Indian households have a high tendency to be abusive due to the larger social construct created and retained over the years. There are several factors that have made the sustenance of this toxic set-up possible.

If your mom thinks beating you up would make you a better child or if your dad thinks to yell at you or your mom is the right way to "discipline" the family, it is not just their individual behaviour, but one that is rooted in our culture and system. 

Patriarchy, male chauvinistic ideologies, religion, caste, gender stereotypes, and their upbringing are a few of these factors. There might even be mental factors, such as in the case of a parent who is mentally unwell and needs helps. 

These are just a few aspects that lead to abuse and neglect. 

I am no psychologist. In fact, I need to heal as well.  However, I have been doing a lot of research to understand myself better and get closure.

I am uploading this post hoping that you observe the situation at your home or even the homes of your loved ones, understand and identify if there is any toxicity present. In this process, it is important to understand, abuse and manipulation needn't only be perpetrated by the male figure, it could be anyone. However, in a patriarchal set-up such as ours, it tends to be men most of the time.

Identifying in itself is a big step. Domestic abuse can be so ingrained and a part of one's life that some might not even take note of it. Some even develop their own coping mechanisms to deal with it and lead a regular life by ignoring the elephant in the room. However, this might not work out in the longer run. I hope you take a few minutes for yourself to understand and reflect. Just wanted to put this out there. 

We’re better off gone.

I try my best to make eco-friendly choices in my everyday life. I use bamboo brush, make my own toothpaste and deodorant, carry cloth bags and water bottle and avoid using plastic. I have minimised my meat and dairy consumption. I try using the public transport whenever I can.
But life has been really difficult after I’ve chosen this path. Every cruelty-free, vegan, eco-friendly product is much more expensive and also more difficult to find. Despite this struggle, looking at those around you not give a damn about the environment creates a gut-wrenching pain.
Well, I’ll not rant. I don’t want to. We all make our own choices and each one of us have our own reasons for making those choices.
This is just the microcosmic perspective.
Turning the spotlight on the larger factors contributing to climate change only angers me all the more.
I don’t think the 12 years we have in hand will bring any effective changes to the climatic conditions, with most powerful fools still debating and denying climate change.
The only thing that can save our planet would be mass extinction. Mass extinction of fools like us, who didn’t know how to lead sustainable lives.
Humans don’t deserve this planet.
We’re better off gone. 

Tired.

Tired

Tired of giving all the love I had,

Tired of not receiving anything back.

Tired

Tired of trying too hard,

Tired of failing and falling

Flat on my face, every single time.

Tired 

Worn out

Energy sucked out.

Tired of being the lover

Without being loved.

Tired of being the nurturer

With no promises of growth.

Withering away like autumn leaves, 

Losing shimmer

Growing pale and dim

The soul is sucked with

A black hole left in its place.

Jarring silence.

Tired.

Unloved.

Dead.

Dead.

Dead.

Just for the money

As my mom wiped the blood on her nose, with yet another cotton ball I gathered the courage to yell back. He stood there with an air that made him seem like a winner in a boxing match. This was nothing new, we knew he would get violent even at the slightest inconvenience. More than we loved me, it was fear that forced us to stay.
This time it was because I had gone out for lunch with my friends and came home a little late. Being a 23-year-old journalist, this made no sense to me.
As the physical abuse continued, the slut-shaming began. "You are nothing but a whore who sleeps around. Suck all the dicks you can get your hands on." I screamed as my body shuddered and felt gross. Hearing such slurs from a father was painful. As my teared-up eyes searched for my mom, yearning for some support. She glanced back, "that's exactly what you are. Don't make this a huge issue. If you don't shut up, you will ruin your little brother's life".
According to authoritative South Asian parenting, body-shaming and slut-shaming are essential aspects to discipline children. This continues for years, giving enough time for the child to internalise the comments and believe they exist. Home, which should be a nurturing environment becomes a breeding ground for toxicity.
Virginia Woolf was not wrong in saying, "Women have served all these centuries as looking-glasses possessing the magic and delicious power of reflecting the figure of man at twice its natural size". Feeding-off powerless women and children at home boost the fragile male ego. Silence adds power, shattering anything that defies chauvinist rules.
The next day, I asked mom, "Why would you want to put up with a monster?"
She was forced to quit her job as an Engineer as he did not want her to make her own money. She became financially dependent on him and this eventually led to power imbalance. Having a second child in her mid-30s made her rely on him entirely.
That's when she responded, "Well, I don't like it either. I have to put up with it just so I have a roof over my head and that you kids get a good education. I'm in this marriage just for the money." 

There's something missing!

Its an empty space in my heart that screams out when I lay my head on the pillow.
From the calmness of the South to the chaos of the new city, things have changed quite fast.

Is it the distance from home? Is it the difference of the cultures?

Or is it just the unfamiliarity of the new spaces?

Another episode.

With the end of all the excitement of coming to a new city, reality hit hard. I guess this is what they call absolute unfamiliarity.
Parents are proud.  Friends, happy. A few, envious. They think its amazing to have the "freedom" that they crave.Well, this is what I wanted. This is all I wanted. To leave Chennai and live alone.
Things are very different from this side though.
I didnt realise that things would change so much when I waved goodbye to my huge family. Eleven of them had come to bid farewell. It just took a few days for the excitement to turn into confusion as I found myself absolutely lost in this city, whose language I didnt get.
The confusion turned into a whole range of emotions. Overwhelmed, I burst into tears. Unable to communicate what I wanted to, I was repeatedly charged extra by rickshaw drivers and vendors. The sense of powerlessness made me seem weak. Being thrown into the deep end, I am still grappling to get a hold of things.
To make things worse, the paranoia of being mugged, groped, molested or raped hovers like a ghost.
Would things have been easier if I were a guy in a city like Noida? Would the number of "be careful" calls be lesser then? Would I feel safer then?
For, nothing really happened (touchwood) but, the fear that something might made me choose to stay at home.
Finding a place to stay without any help was another battle.
"Is it safe for women?", "Would the landlord have issues with odd shifts?"
Rejected and not given accommodation as people are still wary of women working in media.
Have they forgotten that we are journalists who are trying our best to make this terrible place somewhat better?
Seems like they dont care.
"Media? Sorry madam. We are a traditional family.   Search for an accommodation somewhere else."
Wait until your daughter grows up and wants to become a photographer or journalist. Wait until your granddaughter or neice wants to make documentaries in conflict regions.
I have found a place. Temporarily.
A home for the next few months probably.
Well, if one thinks this could send a girl home. To her calm city. NO. She isn't leaving until she understands this place. Noida it is. Until she gets bored of it.

Random musings on a Sunday Evening.

What is that we have lost over the years?
What is that, that is missing?

The void.

Is it something material? Is it something spiritual?

The emptiness.

Is it something physical? Is it something psychological?

The search.

The search for the lost something. The something I have never had.

The resonance of the deep oceans.

Simplicity.
In everything.
LOST.

Trust and Loyalty.
LOST.

Love and being loved.
LOST.