With news about women in India being unsafe, making the headlines, this poem takes it’s root. While the government continually comes under attack for it’s apathy towards cases such as rape, molestation etc. and feminist groups argue that women should not be told how to dress or by what time they should be back home, it’s the most debated topic. In a utopian society free movement, complete safety is possible; but all countries are far from it. So until we get there and unless you have the power of “wonder woman” or society stands together to protect women, a woman needs to ensure she is careful.
Unfortunately, these beasts lurk in our midst everywhere and are not caged. Some are more obvious and others wear the mask of their profession or relation with the victim and inspite of taking all the precaution in the world, terrible things do happen even in a public place like the New Year’s eve assaults in Germany in 2015-2016 or when one is in the most secure place like home or school by the so-called “uncle” or a teacher or by a holy priest.
While we do need stringent laws so that these beasts are put away forever, we also need to educate students, boys and girls, to respect each other. We need parents to teach their sons to respect women and we need parents to teach their daughters not to take bull-shit from anybody, be it their teachers, friends, husbands, colleagues, bosses or a stranger.
A salute to those women and men who manage to save themselves from harrowing situations and come out stronger, after being put through the trauma. To those who despite being brave like India’s brave-heart “Nirbhaya”, succumb to the injuries, I pray their souls rest in peace and they are in a better place.
A salute to those “real” men who treat a woman as an equal, as a human being with dignity and respect.
So here goes my poem:
I see you glaring at me,
It makes me nervous,
Slightly anxious,
I admit, I am conscious,
I wish you’d stop being so obnoxious!
You’re glaring again,
I’m definitely not flattered,
I know it shouldn’t have mattered-
I feel my confidence, a wee bit battered,
I wish I could have that glare shattered!
You will not stop, how can you?
You’re “The Man”, that’s your view,
Shameless! But that’s not new-
I take the cue,
I bid my fear adieu.
You who have no honor, I know your kind,
Not a man, not even an animal, but a creature with a sick mind,
You have eyes but your soul is blind-
I better beware, lest I should be your prized find,
Diseased art thou, in hell you’ll wind!
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Eúnoia 
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