Every woman’s story!
Many voices, one world; many debates with no result----“ We are the hollow men, We are the stuffed men, Leaning together, Headpiece filled with straw. Our dried voices, when We whisper together Are quiet and meaningless As wind in dry grass, Or rats' feet over broken glass, In our dry cellar, Shape without form, shade without colour, Paralysed force, gesture without motion…” WHERE’S THE PARTY TONIGHT? Party, certainly not for me, as I prefer to stay home before its dark. Don’t be such a bore, after all you don’t stay in Kashmir? Yes, you are right, but I genuinely don’t feel safe, be it Kashmir or Delhi. But what is the reason? Simply, because I am a woman. Time and again I have been told that I have a ‘Lakshman rekha’ and I must not cross it to avoid unwanted consequences! Society reminds us that we are females and that we need to put efforts to ensure that we don’t present ourselves as targets to be raped. Though, my parents, over the years, have trained me to protect