MeToo

When we as young 25 year olds were summoned into a prominent ad agency head's cubicle and asked to line up for him to review. He wanted girls to be decked up in saree for the launch of the book on how his father build a prominent ad agency. I, along with a few others were asked to step aside because we were 'flat chests'.

When at an interview for a Client servicing role at another leading agency in Chennai the only questions I was asked were "Do you have a boy friend, do you drink, do you go pubbing?"

When working on Lotte Choco Pie pitch, the agency head kept joking to women in particular, that the 2 layers of biscuit and cream in between reminded him of 'something else'.

When I was told I was thin and my lack of a 'rounded full butt' made my trousers look pretty loose.

When working on a pitch for Mood condoms, the otherwise lazy agency head showed exceptional interest in personally conducting the survey with 'women' employees to understand more about their intimate experiences with the product.

When I was told I cannot handle a particular salon brand account because I lacked the beauty or personality for it (my way of revenge was to later get on board as the Pan India Marketing Head for the same salon brand).

When the client at a leading stationery brand, would refuse to acknowledge my face, and only talk to my chest.

So many stories. How many do we tell?

Why didn't we shame them, then and there? Because we were scared. Scarred. Shocked. Wanted the job. Wanted to retain the client. Were not sure of support. Were not sure if we were in this alone or others suffered it too.

And most of all, we were pretty sure that the first response would be, why bring it up? Konjam adjust pannikonga.

#MeToo

Whisper

The tree asked the breeze
Do you ever miss me -
Leaving a million sights aside
Why caress my leaves?

I wait for you
through broad daylight
And through countless moments
of sleepless nights.

But you never come
Never tell me why
Never wipe my tears
Never sit by my side.

The breeze heavily heaved,
A sigh of relief.
Many come to you for respite -
From their overwhelming grief.

Under your shelter
They rest lazily.
And in your shadow, go
Into slumbers deep.

I look upon you
from faraway skies
Hoping against hope
You'd call for me!

That you'd look my way
That you'd see my longing.
But I see you happy
Amidst your circle of being.

So, I seldom come.
When I do, I tread softly.
For I know if I wake you -
I won't be able to leave!

Anchor

I wept myself 

to sleep tonight.

I have the whole world,

By my side

But no one to talk to - 

I'm so broken inside. 

I wept myself 

to sleep tonight. 

Nights pass on 

and days just fly. 

Faces tell me

I'm their sunshine.

Their names I seldom recall

The bonds much less

I lose myself more, 

as nights keep passing on. 

It's an unforgiving world. 

It's the wrong time. 

This will all change. 

Be patient for a while.

It'll break their hearts 

and bring my world apart. 

Forgive me, for now
Let's blame it on wrong times.

I remember

I remain 

Spectators frown 

in sheer disdain. 

I hope I'd make it 

To the end of this trip 

To see, to believe 

It was worth the applause, indeed! 

Hope

Into my empty harbor

A lonely ship drifts in

It anchors, testing waters

For in the storms, it has been. 

Into unknown corners

It lingers and loiters 

But when the rains subside

Into the horizon, it disappears.

Transience

The sands asked the sea
Do you ever miss me?
The sea smiled and sighed,
I come by every night -

Swallowing my pride
Promising it would be the last time
I'd stealthily watch you sleep
Under the warm twilight.

I try to confess
I long to be by your side.
Yet cautiously touch your feet
Only to slowly retreat.

I know I'll be back again
Another moonlit night
Until then let me bid goodbye
And try live, without you, for a while.

Swami Saranam

I wish I could be as excited as my 72 year old mother about the #Sabarimala verdict. She's been going to the temple for few years now. She is so happy that she can go with me now. 

I have been there when I was a child. I still remember the energy from the Sanctum Sanctorum and the possibility to see beautiful Lord Ayappa again, is like a long time dream come true.

I'd been vehemently opposing the entry of women into the temple stating there is a reason why we have certain traditions and rituals and should abide by them. And have also proudly stated that I'll wait across multiple arguments, both online and offline. 

My timeline currently is filled with my relatives' rants on how they will die to withhold the sanctity and purity of the temple.

Now, I feel I was wrong. How can a woman's entry into any place make it impure? As an educated, unbiased human, isn't this the right thing? Leave aside what Islam allows or Christianity allows. This is not a matter of faith. This is a matter of bias. Chauvinism. Sexism. 

Women were not allowed to cover their breasts, are still not allowed to lit the funeral pyre, talk about sexual assault - where does this end?

I believe most rituals in Hinduism had some scientific base to it. 

Centuries ago, when the travel to the temple was through forests filled with wild animals, a menstruating woman only meant trouble. The smell of blood would naturally attract the beasts. Also the journey to the temple was both tedious and took days to complete. This is amongst the most sane reasons I've come across so far, for keeping women away.

As a woman of faith, even now, I stay away from temples for those '7 days'. I don't know why I still follow it. I simply do.

I wish I had guts, like my mother. Who says it's high time we relook at all rituals and malpractices from an unbiased, empathetic, humane, lawful and intelligent manner. I wish I could have the courage to sit with her happily and without fear, when she's squinting at the planner to book our tickets to visit Lord Ayappa.

497

He promised he'd leave the world behind -
But said don't come in, when she knocked his door that night.

She said he was her destination.
But made time for many short vacations.

He whispered he loved her.
While hugging her, with no one in sight.

She cried, if he'd leave her, she'd die
As he left, she turned to his friend, 'be mine!'

Lust, he said. She said, it's love divine.
Now with her gone, to get her out of his mind, he strived.

He claimed her as his -
But gave all her calls to meet, a miss.

She tucked him in and kissed his cheek, tight
He reveled, not knowing it was going to be the last time.

He called her his beautiful queen,
Little did she know, in his kingdom, many more crowns reigned.