Skip to main content

We Don't Need No Moral Preachers! #rippedjeans

Dear Average Indian Men, 

Another warning issued to women from one of your tribe: 

"Don't wear ripped jeans or society will be destroyed!"

Wow, such high thinking levels. It truly meets the lofty standards set by MCPs throughout ages.

See the similarities with the 19th century Victorians who forced women to wear uncomfortable corsets and keep their voice low? Or even better, with the Sheikhs who kept their women in purdah and flogged them for trespasses? Closer home, maybe similar to the village patriarchs who insist that women keep ghunghat drawn over their heads and faces. And issue death warrants when a girl marries someone of her own choice.

Everyone worth his dhoti or lungi or trousers seems to have an opinion on what women should or rather should not wear! 

I am amazed. 


When did we tell you what to wear, guys?

For the record, we detest these things:

  • You roaming around in torn/dirty vests or with your hairy thighs flashing in tight shorts
  • Unshaved and unwashed faces reeking of smoke or alcohol
  • The "I am God's gift to mankind" entitled attitude that most of your tribe has
  • That smug smile on your face when you watch TV after returning from work, while we are running around fixing dinner/washing dirty laundry/minding the kids' homework
  • The double face that you have when you are with us alone, and when you are "with the boys"
  • That entitled look that you have when you "propose" your "love" and expect an yes always. (OR you rush to buy acid)
I can go on ranting, but you get the drift? 

Why should every Tom, Dick and Harry think its their right and moral duty (?) to pass judgements on our clothes? 

Earn your stripes first by trying to reach the levels of competence a woman has reached.

  • Can you juggle home and work with the ease of an acrobat, day in and day out?
  • Can you say no to a promotion just because your spouse/family needs your time and support?
  • Do you go through intense pain and discomfort every month with a smile and a nonchalant attitude?
  • Do you work day in and day out running a household for which you receive no credit or thanks?
  • Do you have to think twice about being out in the streets alone at night?
  • Do you have to double guess people's motives when you wear something/have a drink/smoke?
  • Are you the shoulder on which everyone pegs their frustrations and vents their anger?
No, right? 

Then shut up. Stop showing your smallness through these announcements and "suggestions".

I hope your tribe decreases and we don't have to write these letters forever. Learn from the "woke" men around you.

Stand up for your Women. Have their backs when they need you. They don't need your preaching, just your quiet confidence in them is enough.

Regards,
A Well Wisher belonging to what you term the "Fairer Sex" (We so detest this pigeon-holing)

#rippedjeans #moralpolicing

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Does Mother Mary Really Come? You bet!

Prolific writer-activist-thinker Arundhati Roy's memoir, an ode to her mother's formidable personality, is cleverly titled, Mother Mary Comes to Me. Below the title is a picture of young Roy nonchalantly smoking a bidi. Irreverence, thy name is Arundhati Roy! At 372 pages, it is a tome, a sweeping saga that recollects both her mother's remarkable life, as well as her own. Is it a Memoir? Yes and no. Though the book title refers to their mother-daughter relationship, the book - at several junctures treats each one of them as independent and exclusive from one another. In fact, for a good part, her mother finds no mention at all, and the reader is engrossed reading about Roy's exploits and struggles through Architecture College, early attempts to find her vocation and calling, her dabbling with cinema, acting, scriptwriting; her romantic liaisons with the luscious JC, Sanjay, Pradeep et al. A life as extraordinary and unapologetic as Arundhati's mesmerizes in itself. ...

The Sadness Within Us

A curious phenomenon has taken place over the years. Technology has advanced in leaps, modern medicine has become far more effective, we can control pain and disease far better, mental health is getting due attention, there are more avenues for creativity and entertainment.  Yet.... We are no longer able to be really happy. We are a chronically unhappy people. Forever dissatisfied, never content. Always thinking about the past or the future, never enjoying the moment. Think about it. When was the last time you were really, truly, wholly happy? Blissful, joyful? You slog hard at office, get that deserved raise/promotion, party hard to celebrate, and yet at the end of the day, a hollowness creeps in. An emptiness, a feeling of futility. You have a grand wedding - its the stuff Instagram dreams are made of. Your sweetheart looks like a million bucks with the latest designer lehenga, you yourself are spruced up, your family and friends are beaming, the event is going on swimmingly. Yet...

Emotional toil of festival times

Festivals are happy times, right? Time for merriment, revelry, celebration, enjoying yourself... Wrong! Studies show festivals call for a steady spike in stress levels. Cortisol shoots up, starting with preparation for festivals, and remains high throughout, in the quest to do everything perfectly, "at least during the festival". Guess who bears the brunt of this? Yes, its the one who takes emotional labour for everyone she cares for - the woman of the house. She wants everything to be perfect, so works her ass off tidying and cleaning things. Then she wants her family to be fed well, so spends hours toiling away making delicacies in the kitchen. Rangoli to be painted - there she is with the brush. Festoons to be hung up - she's balancing herself on a stool. Furniture rearranged, flowers put up, puja room decorated? Yes, only one person who signs up for all this. Then there's the stress of the whole family at home, stepping on each other's toes. She has to appease...