Women's Day : Why need a day?

How do you define feminism? 

A dainty creature who is competent of cooking at one time, working the other and cribbing half of the time for her rights? Okay, let’s get this better.

In cities, there are special provisions for women seats in city buses, women get a special quota when it comes train services. Forget this; it is certain that you must have at least once felt the urge of telling a man to help you out when you fall down. Say from your vehicle itself.

Trying to act all petite when we want something and when we don’t, we blame the typical male mentality and chauvinism for it. Why castigate them when it us who have actually created and embossed the image of being flimsy in their minds. I don’t see a point in shouting slogans related to how men and women are equal. Had we been, you wouldn’t have asked the guy ahead you to let you go first in a queue. All those admonishing that we lash fiercely claiming that men and women are equal. If that’s the case, what is the point of availing exempts based on feminism?

As comprehended by most of us that includes both men and women, feminism is not something that is concerned with a set of protocols designed for women. Neither the feminists demand a special treatment for them. Why need a special treatment when we allege to be equal?

Feminism, on the contrary should be defined and asserted the other way round. To forget that you are a woman. To break all those chasms, those innumerable boundaries and rising above the fact that makes you feeble inside. Which also include giving away your Mahila seat in buses to an old man who is struggling midst the crowd in search of a seat. Yes, that’s what you call feminism.

So ladies, on this world women’s day, instead of exhibiting how diminutive we are, how badly we need JUST a day to commemorate our importance. Let’s actually stand up for some definitive causes. Be a feminist who commands respect and virtue and not merely demand it out of sheer vulnerability and propensity.

Mint!

Before beginning my this post, I 'd like to make certain points clear.
1.This is purely my work of fiction and is not intended to be related to anyone. No one.
2.Please do not care to judge me after this. Really! It feels bad.
3.Lastly, be free to post whatever you feel. Cheers!

Photo credits: That Kiss in the Rain

That night, when we would prepare ourselves to get back home after a brief saunter. The moment we enter our room, it would take hardly a fraction of second to close it back. Know why? Because you would be keenly busy and restless in unraveling my lacy straps with your hands playfully scuffling to play with my tresses. Your incessant force to drive me off to bed would impede when suddenly a knock on the door with your mother telling us to open it would compel you to take your hands off me. Though unwillingly. After a short, in fact really tiny encounter with your mother, you look back to see if the business that you left unfinished for a moment is still at its place. However, you find me nowhere around our bed. Your eyes search for me everywhere, to incarcerate my tender body into your those muscular and strong arms that my heart has craved to fit in, since so many years. Tired and slightly irritated, you call my name loud enough to wake up the people sleeping next to our bedroom. However, soon you’d realize that all the untying had been done already in your absence. As soon as you turn up the curtains of our bathroom, you’d find me there. Drenched, that incandescent body, longingly waiting for the master to take over everything that has waited an eternity. Your expressions seem to be inscrutable. As if the little attempt to revive that loss love in our life has turned out to be futile.  Nevertheless, suddenly my heart takes a jolt when you push me away in your hefty arms and hug me to death. It is an innate tendency of a human to get sentimental during such beautiful times of your life. When you realize that all that affection and warmth that seemed to fade away was just for a matter of time. Passing phase (as they say). Locked into each other, we struggle to find a comfy position that would enable us to make love. With that cold water tripping over our warm bodies, you make those little noises of kissing my neck repeatedly. It looks as if we transited from all the materialistic penance to a safer, had better place. Far away from the hustle and bustle of our mundane and worldly hours that has separated our minds and souls to a great extent. Silently we tread out of the washroom with our bodies sopped with water all over. Our tongues delightfully set up on their voyage to clean those tiny droplets of water from our bodies. That lovely musk smell lingering in the air proves to be an ideal niche for those caressed moves that you carefully commit so slowly and yet so beautifully. With every second passing by, we could hear each other’s hearts thumping hard with the waves of intimacy lashing fiercely. I try to speak but your wet lips bound my mouth every time. There isn’t a second, a minute that is spared to make our love making an everlasting session. We slowly reach up to the level that unify us. Our bare bodies feel a tinch of cold wave that you alarmingly cover with a warm quilt. Stark naked, we lie beside each other. Wrapped in your arms, I raise a question, “would you stay like this forever?” To which you just give an angelic smile,wrap me more tightly and whisper just 3 words,” yes, and forever!”