Planting lilies

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 ...

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 it...