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Curse of being Women

🇮🇳dazai253
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Synopsis
This book is written on the request of the women around me. The issues shown in it are the reality of their life. So if you do not agree with the content written here than please do not get offended by it. And I sincerely  apologies if by any mean I have hurt your feelings or faith. This book is sort of a dairy on the life of women in the rural areas. The life that is forced upon them. My words, their feelings.
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Chapter 1 - Dear Dairy 1

I was never a woman of few words and loose tongue was somewhat born right for me, but somewhere around at the end of teenage did I learn it hard way that voicing your different ideas would never change anything you wish for, only gives you unspeakable despair at the world, the society and yourself. I was introduced to this world of living in a small village of northeast in the form of an infant, sealing an unavoidable contract of life long journey called 'fate'.

I heard 'Destiny is a bitch' from many but never felt it until it showed it's

dominating unwavering presence that couldn't be shaken off till the doorsteps of death and no one had ever come back to tell what was behind those doors, once crossed. Just like every other living being, I also am a slave of these shackles of fate but never felt down over it looking at how everyone were also prisoners here until later did I realise that mine were a lot heavier and colder than a certain dominating class of human society.

As a kid, I was neither particularly good nor bad at studies and idiot was my middle name which serves its purpose quite rightfully since no matter how much or many times I get burn by milk, I still drink it hot and get burn again. Brilliant, was something I could never become be it as a student or a person but even than a sort of an observer I did become, although of a low class abilities, still being able to learn something of my own was kind of fun. And even after having such dull skills of observation it got me to realise that I was cursed, since birth and no one has the power to lift it except for death and the day that realisation struck me, was the day of inauguration of my ruin.

My childhood was nothing to brag over nor was it to fret about just an standard one like any other of my neighbour; eating, sleeping, playing and studying, nothing unusual or out of order, it was like a perfect schedule. That was an age of obliviousness where one can only concentrate on oneself which was definitely selfish of us but that was considered to be unquestionable right of children so no one really tried to waste energy on scolding us. But those days were not of a long lasting since it contains shortest time period of a human life and I grew up. It was fun, growing up, but the process gradually became much, much colder and more, more dark that I was unable to look back at those shinning memories in fear of ruining them and it gives me cold sweat.

I recall in my 4th standard of our mixed gender class, our teacher asked "Who are we?" to which we replied as any child of that age would do "Humans." and got affirmative reaction from teacher but at that time it never occurred to me how painfully wrong was that one word answer. Humans are divided in species, class, ranks, society, culture and many more but one dividation, which God himself created unlike other human made, goes way deep in physiology of both physical and mental structure of human themselves – man and woman. The human society consist of man and woman constantly needs both of them to play their scripted parts yet only one of them get the award while other is just like a back stage crew.

I have ever loved clothes more than food which kids my age practically desired most. One could easily say clothes were my life, where I personally had nothing like preference, every good attire be it boy's or girl's, I loved them. I also loved the small cute accessories to wear, the sweet sound of the chain on leg and the warm feeling of small bangles around wrist was something to die for.

Indeed no discrimination over good clothes still at festivals and occasions I somewhat had preference of choosing a bright shinny, sparkly dress along with a variety of cute accessories and could remember having a tinge of pity for my brother who had not much options in clothing like we girls had but my foolish little mind of that time could never comprehend the simple idea of how this excessive love for clothes would give me more torments than ever and play biggest role for my hatred towards the society.

The innocence and obliviousness of childhood didn't vanish at age of 12 as the saying goes 'if couldn't be wise in 12 then no chance for even in 32' but that wasn't the case for me. I got my 'Bodhi gyan' at the age of 18 because all the childish antics burned in the fire enlightening weeding mandap, as soon as I stepped in.