Yesterday was a bad day for Delhites. Along with the incessant rains and bottleneck traffic jams, the blue line of the metro stopped working after 11 am! Every passenger keeping their eyes and ears open waited with bated breath for the train to come. Many like me were grinning and bearing it with an itching desire to bang our head against the wall, as every second announcement only embittered the enthusiasm while the train was nowhere to be seen.
And in the midst of this chaos, it was amusing to share a word with random fellow women passengers, since waiting in long queues wasn't a fun filled exercise.
Two of them complained about how women leaders like Sheila Dixit had ruined this country. They went back in history to unearth the fossils of the past and didn't even spare Mrs Indira Gandhi. They were of the opinion that women can't lead from the front and whenever they have, this country has gone to dumps.
I don't blame them, for Madame G or Sheela aunty are not women with the kind of leadership qualities that anyone on planet earth would want to emulate. They believed in the power of the broom and a certain Kejriwal. Poor women, their eyes were glittering like marbles in the sun, when they were speaking highly of him.
While a fifty something aunty, who got into the connecting metro amidst much pushing and pulling couldn't stay silent for a minute the moment I started cribbing to her, about how a day's rain and VVIP movements can spell havoc in the city. Thereby began her stories, where she yelled at the top of her voice and trumpeted about how her daughter had highhandedly caught a robber a few days ago while puffing in pride about why NRI's still prefer Indian brides and not those brought up on foreign shores!
While the former lot of women wanted to look at the brighter side of things, the old aunty believed that the dutiful Indian daughter should go about displaying devilry on roads, but at the end of the day her worth and identity is only being someone's wife. The richer the groom,the better.
Moral of the story: Indian women want to unshackle their tied tongues. But their circumstances do not allow them to word their stories! And most of the times, they learn to live with that claustrophobia. And being someone's wife still and always will earn an Indian woman the kind of respect and happiness that nothing or no one, not even her own self worth can get her.
And in the midst of this chaos, it was amusing to share a word with random fellow women passengers, since waiting in long queues wasn't a fun filled exercise.
Two of them complained about how women leaders like Sheila Dixit had ruined this country. They went back in history to unearth the fossils of the past and didn't even spare Mrs Indira Gandhi. They were of the opinion that women can't lead from the front and whenever they have, this country has gone to dumps.
I don't blame them, for Madame G or Sheela aunty are not women with the kind of leadership qualities that anyone on planet earth would want to emulate. They believed in the power of the broom and a certain Kejriwal. Poor women, their eyes were glittering like marbles in the sun, when they were speaking highly of him.
While a fifty something aunty, who got into the connecting metro amidst much pushing and pulling couldn't stay silent for a minute the moment I started cribbing to her, about how a day's rain and VVIP movements can spell havoc in the city. Thereby began her stories, where she yelled at the top of her voice and trumpeted about how her daughter had highhandedly caught a robber a few days ago while puffing in pride about why NRI's still prefer Indian brides and not those brought up on foreign shores!
While the former lot of women wanted to look at the brighter side of things, the old aunty believed that the dutiful Indian daughter should go about displaying devilry on roads, but at the end of the day her worth and identity is only being someone's wife. The richer the groom,the better.
Moral of the story: Indian women want to unshackle their tied tongues. But their circumstances do not allow them to word their stories! And most of the times, they learn to live with that claustrophobia. And being someone's wife still and always will earn an Indian woman the kind of respect and happiness that nothing or no one, not even her own self worth can get her.
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