The sales are finally here in France. Business seems to have picked up in our little sleepy town. With all the sports classes I have joined, I needed loads of sports gear. So I went shopping and happened to browse through articles in women's clothing stores. I love buying clothes. But this time it was funny. I found loads of pinafores, short frilly skirts, frocks, cute socks, cute cuddly t-shirts that said "My mom is the queen of kisses", pink stuff with Japanese anime characters, cute pink ballerinas (stuff that I was made to wear in school, but in school, they were black) and other cute bags, belts, dresses etc.
It was kid stuff. Just in a bigger size. Well, sometimes.
I love clothes and I love buying nice stuff. But this thing, it's for cute little girls. And God knows, that phase passed me long back.
Living in a city like Bombay, most of us had to grow up fast. I started travelling by the local trains at the age of 12. I went twice a week for my music lessons after a hard day at school. Any girl who's had anything to do with Bombay locals will tell you about the whistling, the sexual remarks and the molestation she has to undergo almost daily.
What do women do when given such unwanted attention? Some behave as if nothing happened, an almost sure way of avoiding trouble or confrontation, while some others slap, kick and shout at the molestor. I was mostly in the second category. I've slapped, kicked and shouted from age 12. That's when my childhood was forgotten and I had to start defending myself. I started walking tall and looked the world in the eye.
I've worked and studied from age 18, I've lived quite an exciting life in Bombay. I've taken my own decisions, I've fought battles, lost some, won some. But I've always had to fight to protect myself. That's a battle you cannot afford to lose. You need to be quick to react to the hand that brushes across your behind, or squeezes other parts of your body. You need to catch, twist, kick and then scream.
And I've always been thankful for my body size. I could intimidate almost any man who dared to come too close. I did some kickboxing at the gym (and trust me, it helped!).
Now, suddenly, I'm being told that small is beautiful. Women in advertisements are super-small, look weak and ravished. Some of them look like anyone could carry them off.
I have absolutely nothing against small-framed women. I have something against everyone wanting to be like them!
Men, on the other hand, have a tough time, should they be small. They have to pump up that iron and keep those biceps and triceps in the show. They must act out the role of the protector, or atleast look the part.
In the ideal-looking couple, the man is always taller (and stronger, atleast heavier) than the woman.
Had I been like the women in the ads, I don't think I would have been able to punch every bastard that touched me or my friends on the crowded railway platforms or streets. I wouldn't have survived the demands of my 15-hour work-study day either.
I ain't no little girl. And thank heavens.
It was kid stuff. Just in a bigger size. Well, sometimes.
Living in a city like Bombay, most of us had to grow up fast. I started travelling by the local trains at the age of 12. I went twice a week for my music lessons after a hard day at school. Any girl who's had anything to do with Bombay locals will tell you about the whistling, the sexual remarks and the molestation she has to undergo almost daily.
What do women do when given such unwanted attention? Some behave as if nothing happened, an almost sure way of avoiding trouble or confrontation, while some others slap, kick and shout at the molestor. I was mostly in the second category. I've slapped, kicked and shouted from age 12. That's when my childhood was forgotten and I had to start defending myself. I started walking tall and looked the world in the eye.
I've worked and studied from age 18, I've lived quite an exciting life in Bombay. I've taken my own decisions, I've fought battles, lost some, won some. But I've always had to fight to protect myself. That's a battle you cannot afford to lose. You need to be quick to react to the hand that brushes across your behind, or squeezes other parts of your body. You need to catch, twist, kick and then scream.
And I've always been thankful for my body size. I could intimidate almost any man who dared to come too close. I did some kickboxing at the gym (and trust me, it helped!).
I have absolutely nothing against small-framed women. I have something against everyone wanting to be like them!
Men, on the other hand, have a tough time, should they be small. They have to pump up that iron and keep those biceps and triceps in the show. They must act out the role of the protector, or atleast look the part.
In the ideal-looking couple, the man is always taller (and stronger, atleast heavier) than the woman.
Had I been like the women in the ads, I don't think I would have been able to punch every bastard that touched me or my friends on the crowded railway platforms or streets. I wouldn't have survived the demands of my 15-hour work-study day either.
I ain't no little girl. And thank heavens.
