When I turned 20, a lot of blessings and congratulatory messages poured in. Some told me about how happening my life is about to get while some haunted me by waking me upto an adult life. You’re an adult when you turn 18 but substandard things are realised late. Living the adult life in search of new hope, new fun, my life actually turned into a happening affair. As soon as I completed one and a half year into adulthood, people seemed no lesser than gimcracks. The shells that broke out started deleting relationships out of my life. And sadly, the girl who believed in carrying people with herself for life had to let them go. But the saddest reality I came across was the realisation of being a girl.
Yes, I am a girl.
“ What does your father do? “
” He is a businessman”
” Yeah, he runs a factory in a near by industrial area.”
” Wow, that’s great! There’ll be no issue of handsome dowry then.”
This is the conversation I had in the admission’s office of my college.
Few days later, a person came up to me and started talking about jobs. We were having a healthy discussion till the time he hadn’t said “Girls need to look good to get a job and a husband. Otherwise amongst five girls of same qualifications and comparable achievements, the girl with the best looks will take away the job and the boy. Why would any guy who is better than the girl choose a girl who is not good looking? ”
Ultimately, according to people, where does the life of a girl, a women end at?
Looks. Boys. Dowry. Marriage.
A girl trying to look beyond this circle of objectification is pushed down. I don’t understand people’s obsession to make girls look “ representable”, ” beautiful” or “desirable“. Even insensate things are more blessed than us for having an opportunity to personify themselves, we women, are merely objects which are taught and traded from one family to another, and oh, we also pay a price for it.
How long will it take for people to understand that a body is just carrier of a living soul, that the way it looks doesn’t defines how a brain works and the scars on it doesn’t paint the heart black?
There are many colours to a soul but just one to a body.
The colours of the heart and the mind grow stronger and brighter each day while the body loses its shine. Still we call ourselves lucky for being the only being on this planet who have the power to make and change when contemporarily our minds are handicapped and ridden to a half- witted society.