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Dear Society,
I observe many things, many incidents and hear a lot too. Some of the things make me restless, while some make me in secured. I listen in silence while I ignore at times.
But, all these years, as I grew up you also became older and weaker. You are wiser, I admit, but you are close-minded. You want to adapt changes, but at the same time you question changes. You know, I even, find you bias.
You know, sometimes, I feel like raising my voice. I do also. But again, you stop me. You subside me. Have you ever thought what it would have been if one day, I escape with all my fellow beings.
I am a part of you. Accept me for what I am. Why do you tag me?
I am Naina Sharma. I am 10 years old. I have one younger brother. I see my parents caring him more, loving him more. I am left on my own. They never show interest in my life. I hear my granny always referring my brother as the apple’s eye. Will you tell me why?
I am Stacy Sangma. I am 20 years old. I have many friends’ even males too. I hang out with them. You give me unwanted look at the pubs, at the restaurant and at the streets, when you see me with them. I am happy. I love their company. But you whisper behind my back. You call me characterless. You make me talk of the town. Have you ever wondered how I deal with the identity you have given me?
I am Lisa Begum. I am 28 years old. I called off my marriage when I was 25 years old. I had reasons for doing so. It was a past. I want to start a new beginning now. But you don’t want me to. You have published a notice in the common welfare of people that I won’t make a good home, a good wife and a good daughter-in law. Without walking in my shoes, I wonder, how can you judge me?
I am Sharmistha Choudhury. I am 30 years old. I am 5’6 tall and 85kg. I meet prospective grooms often as you have pre determined my marriage age. My weight you take into consideration more than my qualification, my nature, my attitude and everything. And you walk away. You call me obese. With each passing day, you give me the feeling that I am getting old and my probability of getting married is becoming lesser. Do you know how it feels to get rejected every other day?
I am Kritika Bhuyan. I am 34 years old. I no longer stay with my husband. But wherever I go, you call me divorcee. You introduce me to others by that name. Don’t you think Kritika is more beautiful than the name you have given me?
I am Raina Roy. I am 37 years old married woman. I have been married for ten years. I don’t have a child. I try to be happy and I forget my pain whenever I am with children. But you become jealous and call me ‘a childless woman’ and you show fake sympathy even. I am okay, I don’t have a child. But please don’t mock at my pain.
I am Darshna Chetri. I am 40 years old. I lost my husband in a car accident. I work day and night to meet the ends of my family. Wherever I go, I see an alarming sympathy for a widow.
I am Pooja Nayak. I am 75 years old. I cannot work anymore and I need someone by my side for most of my work. But you isolate me. You don’t give me a shoulder. You treat me as unwanted furniture. Do you know how it feels to be lonely?
I am the voice of every little girl and every woman who make you. I have many questions, but the answers I have none. I won’t question you and I want you to be the same. I want you to let me fly, but I don’t want you to question the flight I am going to board. I have compromised for almost everything over the centuries. But now, I won’t. I will bloom with confidence and spread my fragrance and I challenge you my thorns won’t spare you anymore.
I remain,
Yours in sackcloth,
A common girl.
Letter Penned By – Biswarupa Purkayastha
Good writing. (Yet scary)
Brain storming.
Good one.