Wednesday 25 June 2014

Sita's Curse : A quick review !

Image Courtesy: bit.ly/1lpzxry
After a very long time I read something really engaging and interesting about the life of an Indian woman, someone with whom we all can relate at some point of time. The book called Sita’s Curse-The Language of Desire by Sreemoyee Piu Kundu revolves around the life of Meera Patel, who struggles between her desires which she cannot possibly share with anyone. Sreemoyee, known to be an erotica writer, smartly delves into the psyche of a woman’s mind through the character of Meera and how she goes through different phases of her life knowing and compromising with oneself.

When I was scrolling through a few book names to be ordered from Flipkart, I wasn’t at all ready about buying Sita’s Curse. I hadn’t heard about it before but when I read the short synopsis of the book on the website, I couldn’t stop clicking on the “Buy Now” button on the right side. Don’t know why but I wanted to give the book a try. I have read women-related books before. I have always been a bit interested in feministic paperbacks and am quite fond of Shashi Deshpande’s work since my college days. And I found that kind of charm and engaging quality in Sita’s Curse as well.

The story is an erotic sexual saga of a middle-class housewife Meera Patel. A wife, who is not satisfied with her husband physically as well as emotionally, a daughter-in-law who is constantly on the knife head for simply not being able to conceive a child, a sister who had lost her twin brother at the time when she probably needed him the most, and a daughter who could never tell her parents what she really wanted from life. Living in a jam-packed housing society in Mumbai, Meera gets metamorphosed from a 17 year old newly married girl to a woman who achieves her freedom by giving in to her physical longings. The climax of the book is slotted on the 26th of July, 2005 in Mumbai, the day when the city experienced evil in its truest sense and when the lives of many innocent people faced a tragic end.

Sreemoyee did an amazing job in showcasing the inner self of Meera, or for that matter, the inner self of any middle-class young wife in India. Very often you get hold of a book which makes you think and also you probably get uncomfortable reading it. Sita’s Curse is one of them, with multiple love-making scenes described minutely, the book also made me hover upon the meanings between the lines. Meera is a sad, helpless, confused, protagonist and many of you might not want to relate her character with anyone in real. But the way Sreemoyee portrayed her sadness whenever Meera missed her brother, her helplessness whenever she had to get the thrashings from her husband and her in-laws, her confusion when she wanted to cross the laxman rekha but was clinging to her marriage, everything seems so real. I don’t think anyone else could have portrayed her the way Sreemoyee did. Perhaps the fact that Sreemoyee is a woman herself made her much more aware of the intensities and contemplations of Meera Patel.

The book is not only about Meera and her struggles but it also revolves around certain issues which are still considered to be a taboo in the Indian society. A woman should never talk about her desires openly, if she initiates sex she is not a good women, if she seeks for a partner of her choice she is going against the rules, and so on. No matter how many times we say that women are equal to men, the fact remains that we are still subjugated by the hypocrite Indian society and Sreemoyee finely described it in her book although by hiding it in the interior of her lines.

The wife who never got anything from her husband Mohan and who suddenly attained what she wants from Yosuf, a guy she met on a sex website. Her desires, both physical and emotional, made her want something more from life. In Sreemoyee’s words, “When I was living in Mumbai, I had passed a dingy chawl in Byculla while travelling to office. I would see this beautiful angelic woman every day. She had the most melancholic grey-green eyes and sometime she would be looking at the clouds and sometimes feeding chillies to a little parrot. Our glances would intercept and it became a strange unspoken dialogue between two women who didn’t know each other. This continued till the floods hit Mumbai. After resuming work, I never saw her while passing that same chawl. Thus, “Meera Patel” is my tribute to her.”


This book can be a tribute to anyone, any woman who is not able to speak up her mind in front of the society. Erotic genre is what came after Kama Sutra but when your friends might tell you that reading such stuff isn’t good for a girl or a boy like you, I feel that this is something which everyone should read. One must read it to know how engaging a book can really be. However, if you are not liberal minded, you might not like the genre of the book. However, it’s now time to embrace this form of literature which will only make us enjoy such stories with beautiful inner meanings in a much better manner.

Saturday 8 March 2014

Celebrate yourselves for being a woman!



What? Who told you to show yourself as someone so brave when you are not? Can’t you remember one simple thing that you are a girl and you cannot be as strong as a boy? If he and his friends were teasing you and following you till office, who told you to just stop and slap him? Do you know how unpredictably they can react now? They might throw acid on your face, they might kidnap you and rape you and then throw you in a jungle, they might just have a revolver and shoot you next time they see you? Don’t try to show bravery here dear. This is your real life and not any women’s emancipation documentary or a Bollywood movie. You should know that you are nothing in front of a group of guys!

This was my mom who was quite angry on me and I am sure you now know why, and whatever she told me was out of extreme fury! She left my room in a dash and slammed the door of my room hard while leaving. I knew well that she will not talk to me for some days now and will also remain worried whenever I leave the house. She might even tell me to take a leave from office for a few days and to stay at home in order to avoid those men.

Like my mom, there are many other women who constantly live in fear. They think of themselves as the weaker sex, as the ones who can be easily crushed by men. But if we only start thinking about ourselves as the weaker sex, as the ones who can be easily subdued, then how will a man respect us anyway? If we, the women, believe that we cannot do a lot of things which men can, how can we say that we are strong? Giving speeches on a Women’s Day function or debating with a male friend about how strong and brave we are doesn’t make us brave in its true sense. Somewhere, we just try to portray ourselves as strong in front of the society without even having that faith that we really are.

I knew that my mom would stop me from going to office the next day. But still I got up early, took a bath and got ready for office. I came down to have my breakfast and my mom was quite shocked. Somewhere she also had thought that I too will be afraid of going to office and hence she expected me to sleep for some late hours. However, I didn’t bother her surprising glance and sat down to have my breakfast. I knew she would say something and soon after she said, “You are not going to office today. Just go back to your room and call your Boss and tell him that you are ill.

That’s it! I had to speak up. I didn’t tell her anything the night before but if I couldn’t say anything now, it would get tough for me in the long run. I stood up and said, “Mom, are you proud to be a woman?” She was quite amazed at my sudden query. She fumbled and replied, “Yyyyes... but why you asking me this”. I continued, “Are you sure about it?” Mom replied, “Have you gone mad? I am in no mood of answering to these stupid questions of yours.” I didn’t pay much attention to her and said, “If you cannot be sure about how proud you are of being a woman, then the way you are behaving since last night is quite predictable. See mom, I saw you discussing with your friend the other day on phone about how proud you are of me that I am an independent woman now. How happy you are about the fact that me, your daughter, is earning on her own and is much better settled than a lot of men you know. But tell me something, did you really mean saying it? No mom, you didn’t, because if you would have meant it, you would never have behaved the way you did last night and today as well. We are not lesser or inferior than any men mom. You need to know that. If you think that the next time you talk to the same friend of yours and tell her that I have left going to office for something so silly, how will she feel? Will not she think of you as someone who changes her mind every now and then? I am going to office today and I will go to office every single day.

I saw that my mom had tears on her eyes. This was the first time I spoke to her this harshly and I felt bad but I was really angry. I took my handbag and rushed to office.

I just have one question for all. How are we the “weaker sex”? We can bear a child on our body for 9 long months. We can see ourselves getting fat every single day when we get pregnant. We see our 28 inches waist becoming 48 inches but still we manage to smile thinking about the little bundle of joy that is going to come in our lives after a few days. We can leave our parents, our friends, our home, our bedroom, our bed, our pillows, and every single thing when we get married and move with our husbands. We can do so much and what men can really do? There is nothing which women cannot do now. We are pilots, we are scientists, we are actors, we are managers, we are entrepreneurs, we are mothers, and we can take up any single role.

We need to believe in ourselves and only then we can get appreciated by men. We should make them aware that being a woman is not easy at all. So, all you women out there, celebrate yourselves, celebrate the way you are, take pride in yourselves and always remember, “Bekhauff aazaad hai jeena mujhe... bekhauff aazaad hai rehna mujhe...” (Courtesy: Satyamev Jayate)

Wednesday 15 January 2014

Fights add spice to life! Phew!

I just don’t want to talk to you any more. Just buzz off!”: I messaged him on Whatsapp.

My phone beeped a few seconds later: “Me too! It’s getting disgusting. I can’t take all these any more. Bye” I got this reply from him.

Image Courtesy: elitedai.ly/1m5Di4B
How could he write this? How dare he? What does he think of himself? I mumbled it grumpily, switched off my phone and threw it aside. I took my pillow and went to sleep!

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And it was another fight of ours this month. I guess the fourth or the fifth one. Or, the sixth one I guess. Actually I had lost count with so many fights of us happening every single week. Fights are quite common with us. Since the time we are together, we have done PhD in fighting if you may say so. Still, somehow, we are together! Even I think about it at times. Our fights get quite serious at times. So serious, that either of us even plan to take a break and not to see each other in the days to come. But again things change! Something happens which keeps us together. Don’t know what it is. Probably it is the string which keeps us as one. Probably we are meant to be together. But you know what, these fights literally kill me from inside at times. He was true! It gets disgusting. But again, we didn't have any solution!

When I talk to my friends about this, they laugh it off! For them, fights add spice to a relationship. It makes a bond stronger and grows love! Bullshit! They don’t know how much it hurts. How much it pains. And moreover, how much bad it makes one think about the other. Whenever we fight and I curse him on my mind, it makes me feel good! But again when things get right, I feel guilty of thinking such things about him all of a sudden! Is it good to feel that bad, that harsh, and that ruthless about the one whom we say we love? Yes it’s fine that we feel these when we fight but still. Doesn't loving someone means loving them even when he/she is not with us?

But who cares! We fight and we curse. We cry and we talk shit about each other. We swear not to call him/her again ever in life. We promise ourselves of not to see each other’s faces again. But how many times do we actually follow this? Never! Then why these fights? Who says that fights add spice and for God’s sake, why would a fight add spice? I mean, this is absolute non sense. The people who say this are the ones who probably are not in a serious relationship. Or the ones who might not know what is the true worth of a relationship. We choose our partners ourselves; nobody forces us to be together. Then why that same person annoys us so much that we end up fighting it out and saying hurtful things to each other? Why don’t we simply remember that each one of us is unique? We look different, we were born in different circumstances, our skin colour differs, our thoughts differ, and we are absolutely different from each other. Then why can’t we simply accept the other one? Why is it so hard for us to see each other’s weaknesses? Why?

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I woke up next morning at around 8.30! I searched for my phone beside my pillow, under the pillow, with my eyes still closed. I didn’t find it! I then remembered that I had thrown it last night somewhere on the bed but where, I didn’t know yet! I sat down on my bed and found out the phone below the blanket. I wanted to see the time but suddenly I realised that it was switched off. I switched it on, the phone beeped thrice. He had sent me 3 messages. All of them with a ‘sorry’ in the end. I smiled! I felt good, refreshed. I called him up and then started getting ready for office.


So, our sixth fight was over! Maybe next week we will fight again. May be we won’t! But I still wonder that how did these fights add spice to this relationship? How can it add spice anyway? What exactly is this 'spice' all about? We had ended the fight and our relationship was back to normal. Then where’s the spice? Where was that something ‘new’ in this relationship? It was nowhere! The only thing we have is another add-on to the list of our fights and somewhere in our hearts guilt of thinking bad about each other for that very moment when our fight was at its peak!

May be that's how things work! May be that's how it should be! May be that's the way we are! Phew!