"Be careful of the vase!!" Anjali screeched at the girl who had just entered the room.
"Sorry!!" the girl apologised with a childish smile and tongue half out accepting her mistake.
"Hi, I'M Kanica.. I work at Accenture and I'm doing my part time MBA from NMIMS. I love to read, dance,listen to music,gossip. I have a boyfriend. He is handsome and we are going to get married....."
"That's your bed. Do not use any of my things and leave me alone." Anjali interrupted the happy, excited Kanica in the middle of her introduction and just walked into the corner. There was a table in the corner with a lot of papers piled up in bundles. But what caught Kanica's eye was the type writer at the corner of the table.
Anjali had begun typing. Her hair tied up in a bun, wearing a pale yellow salwar, She looked like a young woman in her early 30s. Kanica took a couple of steps towards the table.
"STOP right there. Do not even think about it. I told you; do not touch my things. Stick to your corner." Anjali bossed over Kanica without looking at her.
"Hi Kanica. Be careful of the strict aunty. She's annoying and lonely and strict. Do not mess with her" a few girls entered the room giggling.
In those five minutes Kanica had understood that her roomie was an introvert who liked to be in her own space and that most of the girls in the working woman's hostel hated her for it.
A few days passed. The daily routine continued the same. Anjali always stayed in her corner not allowing anyone to enter her space, Kanica trying to make a conversation without any success and Anjali disturbing Kanica's sleep every night with her type writer.
One night Kanica came back late. She was wearing a beautiful black colour one-piece gown, just short enough to not provocate a man's senses. She looked beautiful in the dress except that she was uncharacteristically silent and had no smile on her face.
"Don''t stop your tears from flowing. Let your emotions flow. Emotions kept inside are the biggest poison. If you are comfortable you can share your problems to me. Maybe I won't be of much help but never the less it will help you to reduce your pain!" Anjail consoled Kanica with a hug.
Kanica broke down. Tears started flowing down her cheeks.
"My boyfriend does not love me anymore. He used to get me flowers, chocolates, or used to take me shopping, or something exciting everytime I met him. But these days he is just too boring. he just wants to sit around watching Cricket or Soccer which I do not understand. When I told him to watch my favourite TV show he just walked off into the room. When I asked him what happened he just said he needed his space. Like where have I taken his space??"
"Sssshhhhhh!!! Just shut up. Typical new generation girl thinks she is independent and strong to build up an attitude and ego so big that she thinks she is the queen of the world. Why do you want your boyfriend to always do things you like? Why do you want him to do things for you? Like carry your shopping bags, or actually shop for you, or even for that matter stand outside the trial room until you finish trying 100 dresses and asking him which one looked HOT. You girls want a personal valet and servant who is educated and qualified enough to earn and spend on you with amazing patience and understanding to take your tantrums...."
"What are you talking about?" Kanica asked stunned at the peaceful rant Anjali had meated out at her.
"Simply speaking why can't you let your guy be the guy he is. Let him do his things for a while that he likes to do. Give him company for these things. And for once stop acting like a small weak girl who needs attention at every step she takes. You call yourself independent, self-sustaining and confident right? Then why ask your boyfriend to drop you home everytime? Too short on money or too delicate to travel by bus or train? Why ask him to shop and gift things to you? Aren't you earning enough money for that? Are you going to fall if you carry your own bags or is your nail polish going to spoil? You girls will never grow up. always demanding, always in their fantasy world where everything has to be perfect without you struggling hard for anything!!Why do you need him to always understand your emotions without you sharing anything? Is he that smart or is he that dumb??"
"Okay..." Kanica replied since she had nothing to argue. She was beaten all ends up.
Anjali picked up her phone and stormed out of the room.
Kanica stood up and went to the balcony which was facing the beautiful Arabian Sea. The breeze was mild with the moon almost full and bright in the cloudless sky. Kanica for the first time in her life was hit by the truth. Bitter truth. She had taken way too much advantage of her boyfriend. But why shouldn't she? She was educated, beautiful, hot, earning, So she deserved an obedient boyfriend and according to her her behaviour was completely justified.
In the backdrop of coconut trees and the beach she saw Anjali. She was sitting on a rock alone and by the looks of it crying to herself. Kanica was really curious to know why.
"What's your story?"
"I have no story"
"You can trust me. I am not like the girls of my generation. I understand your anger, your understanding, your maturity and your struggles."
Crasssh!!
Crasssh!!
Two beer bottles came crashing right next to where both of them were sitting.
"Hey sexy women. Come spend the night with us. We can wipe your tears and make you happy. We have lots of money and even bigger guns to satisfy you" screamed four drunk men from a distance across the shallow water around the rocks.
"Leave us alone" begged Kanica
"Oh come on baby!! Show me some of your amazing curves."
"Please leave us alone. Take all our money. Leave us alone. Please" weeped Kanica.
The weeping effed the drunkards and they started moving towards them and within no time reached the rock.
"You fuck*** bast****!!! Dare touch her or me and I will kill you."
"HAHAHAHAHAHA!!! You will kill us. Show us how?"
Anjali picked up the ends of the broken bottles and started swinging like in a sword fight.
"Aaaaaaarrrrrrggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh" screamed a drunkard holding his neck. Anjali had cut his neck and without any fear started moving towards the other three.
"Sorry madam. We're sorry. We won't trouble you. Sorry madam" fled the drunkards.
"You call yourself strong and independent? Does showing off your clevage make you independent or strong? Wear short clothes. No problems, but only when you can carry them off. You wear these to turn your boyfriend on, but aren't there other men around? You want to turn on only special selective people without turning the rest on is just like expecting one pin to fall on a perfect strike."
"Shouldn't the other men control themselves? We are women and not sex objects." retaliated Kanica.
"Can you control yourself and your emotions when you are on their dates? Can you control yourself when you see Batman on screen, or some hot guy on the road. You too judge and comment on them. Even eve-tease them. Yes they should control themselves but just like its difficult to control your hormones during your chums, it's difficult to control their surging hormones. No matter how good or broad thinking a human being is, it is bound to be sexually triggered. Neither are you perfect, nor them. Both have to control themselves and not blame each other for hormonal surges."
"Not all rapes are hormonal surges. Some men just think women are inferior to them. They are like the man leads, the woman follows...."
"That's because of weak and fearful women like you. If you showed a little confidence and a little courage, nobody can say a word to you forget touch you. Be strong and the world follows. Sabki Chaddi fati hai. Sab doosre ki faadne mein lage hain taaki khudki kam fati dikhe." Anjali started walking back towards the hostel.
Kanica stopped her midway and made her sit on the warm sand.
"Tell me your story. You have so much of pain and truth in what you speak. Must be because of your past."
"Middle class family. Practising pshycologist. Love at first sight in class. Head over heels. Job at a reputed hospital. Rich doggy boyfriend. Fulfilled every tantrum. Too dependent on him for everything. Proposed for marriage. Accpeted. Dowry. Given. One and a half years. Pregnant. Beautiful daughter. Husband unhappy with daughter. Cheats. Divorce.Alimony not accepted. Shattered.Self respect.No job. Daughter taken away. Too dependent on husband. All alone. Struggled. Writing to express. Finally landed job with publisher friend. Best selling author. But less money. Working woman hostel. Peace....."
"Wow. You are an amazing person. Don't worry you are never alone. I will always be there with you."
"Lets go back. It's pretty late."
"Hi mommy. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up."
"Reetu!!!. What are you doing here? How did you get here? How are you? I missed you so much!! I love you soo much!! Did you miss mommy??'' Anjali was bursting out in happiness.
Then she saw Kanica wipe a tear and smile at her from the door.
"Thank you."
"Good Morning sweetheart.
No you won't pick me up. I will pick you up from your office."
Anjali overheard Kanica speaking. She quietly placed two tickets for the India-Pakistan cricket match at the Wankhade.
Women aren't weak. Society and customs have made them weak. It's upto them to stand up and choose what and who they wish to be. The bold, strong and independent or the weak, showy, egoistic independent.
No matter what you do or say, women are always independent.
"Sorry!!" the girl apologised with a childish smile and tongue half out accepting her mistake.
"Hi, I'M Kanica.. I work at Accenture and I'm doing my part time MBA from NMIMS. I love to read, dance,listen to music,gossip. I have a boyfriend. He is handsome and we are going to get married....."
"That's your bed. Do not use any of my things and leave me alone." Anjali interrupted the happy, excited Kanica in the middle of her introduction and just walked into the corner. There was a table in the corner with a lot of papers piled up in bundles. But what caught Kanica's eye was the type writer at the corner of the table.
Anjali had begun typing. Her hair tied up in a bun, wearing a pale yellow salwar, She looked like a young woman in her early 30s. Kanica took a couple of steps towards the table.
"STOP right there. Do not even think about it. I told you; do not touch my things. Stick to your corner." Anjali bossed over Kanica without looking at her.
"Hi Kanica. Be careful of the strict aunty. She's annoying and lonely and strict. Do not mess with her" a few girls entered the room giggling.
In those five minutes Kanica had understood that her roomie was an introvert who liked to be in her own space and that most of the girls in the working woman's hostel hated her for it.
A few days passed. The daily routine continued the same. Anjali always stayed in her corner not allowing anyone to enter her space, Kanica trying to make a conversation without any success and Anjali disturbing Kanica's sleep every night with her type writer.
One night Kanica came back late. She was wearing a beautiful black colour one-piece gown, just short enough to not provocate a man's senses. She looked beautiful in the dress except that she was uncharacteristically silent and had no smile on her face.
"Don''t stop your tears from flowing. Let your emotions flow. Emotions kept inside are the biggest poison. If you are comfortable you can share your problems to me. Maybe I won't be of much help but never the less it will help you to reduce your pain!" Anjail consoled Kanica with a hug.
Kanica broke down. Tears started flowing down her cheeks.
"My boyfriend does not love me anymore. He used to get me flowers, chocolates, or used to take me shopping, or something exciting everytime I met him. But these days he is just too boring. he just wants to sit around watching Cricket or Soccer which I do not understand. When I told him to watch my favourite TV show he just walked off into the room. When I asked him what happened he just said he needed his space. Like where have I taken his space??"
"Sssshhhhhh!!! Just shut up. Typical new generation girl thinks she is independent and strong to build up an attitude and ego so big that she thinks she is the queen of the world. Why do you want your boyfriend to always do things you like? Why do you want him to do things for you? Like carry your shopping bags, or actually shop for you, or even for that matter stand outside the trial room until you finish trying 100 dresses and asking him which one looked HOT. You girls want a personal valet and servant who is educated and qualified enough to earn and spend on you with amazing patience and understanding to take your tantrums...."
"What are you talking about?" Kanica asked stunned at the peaceful rant Anjali had meated out at her.
"Simply speaking why can't you let your guy be the guy he is. Let him do his things for a while that he likes to do. Give him company for these things. And for once stop acting like a small weak girl who needs attention at every step she takes. You call yourself independent, self-sustaining and confident right? Then why ask your boyfriend to drop you home everytime? Too short on money or too delicate to travel by bus or train? Why ask him to shop and gift things to you? Aren't you earning enough money for that? Are you going to fall if you carry your own bags or is your nail polish going to spoil? You girls will never grow up. always demanding, always in their fantasy world where everything has to be perfect without you struggling hard for anything!!Why do you need him to always understand your emotions without you sharing anything? Is he that smart or is he that dumb??"
"Okay..." Kanica replied since she had nothing to argue. She was beaten all ends up.
Anjali picked up her phone and stormed out of the room.
Kanica stood up and went to the balcony which was facing the beautiful Arabian Sea. The breeze was mild with the moon almost full and bright in the cloudless sky. Kanica for the first time in her life was hit by the truth. Bitter truth. She had taken way too much advantage of her boyfriend. But why shouldn't she? She was educated, beautiful, hot, earning, So she deserved an obedient boyfriend and according to her her behaviour was completely justified.
In the backdrop of coconut trees and the beach she saw Anjali. She was sitting on a rock alone and by the looks of it crying to herself. Kanica was really curious to know why.
"What's your story?"
"I have no story"
"You can trust me. I am not like the girls of my generation. I understand your anger, your understanding, your maturity and your struggles."
Crasssh!!
Crasssh!!
Two beer bottles came crashing right next to where both of them were sitting.
"Hey sexy women. Come spend the night with us. We can wipe your tears and make you happy. We have lots of money and even bigger guns to satisfy you" screamed four drunk men from a distance across the shallow water around the rocks.
"Leave us alone" begged Kanica
"Oh come on baby!! Show me some of your amazing curves."
"Please leave us alone. Take all our money. Leave us alone. Please" weeped Kanica.
The weeping effed the drunkards and they started moving towards them and within no time reached the rock.
"You fuck*** bast****!!! Dare touch her or me and I will kill you."
"HAHAHAHAHAHA!!! You will kill us. Show us how?"
Anjali picked up the ends of the broken bottles and started swinging like in a sword fight.
"Aaaaaaarrrrrrggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh" screamed a drunkard holding his neck. Anjali had cut his neck and without any fear started moving towards the other three.
"Sorry madam. We're sorry. We won't trouble you. Sorry madam" fled the drunkards.
"You call yourself strong and independent? Does showing off your clevage make you independent or strong? Wear short clothes. No problems, but only when you can carry them off. You wear these to turn your boyfriend on, but aren't there other men around? You want to turn on only special selective people without turning the rest on is just like expecting one pin to fall on a perfect strike."
"Shouldn't the other men control themselves? We are women and not sex objects." retaliated Kanica.
"Not all rapes are hormonal surges. Some men just think women are inferior to them. They are like the man leads, the woman follows...."
"That's because of weak and fearful women like you. If you showed a little confidence and a little courage, nobody can say a word to you forget touch you. Be strong and the world follows. Sabki Chaddi fati hai. Sab doosre ki faadne mein lage hain taaki khudki kam fati dikhe." Anjali started walking back towards the hostel.
Kanica stopped her midway and made her sit on the warm sand.
"Tell me your story. You have so much of pain and truth in what you speak. Must be because of your past."
"Middle class family. Practising pshycologist. Love at first sight in class. Head over heels. Job at a reputed hospital. Rich doggy boyfriend. Fulfilled every tantrum. Too dependent on him for everything. Proposed for marriage. Accpeted. Dowry. Given. One and a half years. Pregnant. Beautiful daughter. Husband unhappy with daughter. Cheats. Divorce.Alimony not accepted. Shattered.Self respect.No job. Daughter taken away. Too dependent on husband. All alone. Struggled. Writing to express. Finally landed job with publisher friend. Best selling author. But less money. Working woman hostel. Peace....."
"Wow. You are an amazing person. Don't worry you are never alone. I will always be there with you."
"Lets go back. It's pretty late."
"Hi mommy. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up."
"Reetu!!!. What are you doing here? How did you get here? How are you? I missed you so much!! I love you soo much!! Did you miss mommy??'' Anjali was bursting out in happiness.
Then she saw Kanica wipe a tear and smile at her from the door.
"Thank you."
"Good Morning sweetheart.
No you won't pick me up. I will pick you up from your office."
Anjali overheard Kanica speaking. She quietly placed two tickets for the India-Pakistan cricket match at the Wankhade.
Women aren't weak. Society and customs have made them weak. It's upto them to stand up and choose what and who they wish to be. The bold, strong and independent or the weak, showy, egoistic independent.
No matter what you do or say, women are always independent.
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