A page from the diary of a feminist woman !

It’s the middle of the night and feels like everything aches , my heart , every inch of my body and even my soul. I am a strong independent woman. People call me feminist also , maybe because I believe in the power a woman posses. Maybe because I oppose of being under the influence of a man or may be because I am opinionated . 

         I am a working woman but that does not give me any ease about my duties as a woman. I have to get up before everyone so they all can have their things ready at their places. And it does not change anything if I or anyone else calls me a feminist. And after every one goes to their offices and schools then I get to go to work . Diary , I forgot to tell you , I had to find a job that could fit the timings of my family so I do not have to compromise on their needs.

           As I go out as a feminist , with my sun glasses and attitude on, as a strong brave woman, I get to catch public transport. Of course my husband takes the only ride we own because who am I kidding his job is more important than mine. My feminist self often experiences the almost humiliation and molestation on the public transport like half of the women do. But I can not say a thing despite of cursing them in my head , on top of my lungs. If I would know that once I make a scene out of my self in the middle of the road this will not happen again , ever .. I would have done it a long time ago. But again , the next day will be another transport , another bunch of perverts and the same old feminist me.

            I got few minutes late today for work , and the result was , I missed the chance of having the assignment I was so excited to get. And again my fellow male employee got it because even he puts the assignments usually late on my boss’s desk and even he often goes on leaves, my boss knows that I am just a woman who people call a feminist. Because of her clothing and thinking . Rest of all remains and will remain the same after all ..

             Dear Diary , the day was a messed up one. I was disappointed on everyone and on myself. I could just think like a feminist and people can just call me that but that’s it. My words are just words that can neither change the society I live in nor me.

I was so tired I just wanted to sink in my bed and just sleep. I did not even want a shower. It could wait but I had to. My husband doesn’t like someone sleeping beside him who stinks of hard work and struggle. He was telling me how frustrating his day was and I kept listening and comparing my day in the heart which was not less horrible than him. Then he looked at me with those eyes , I knew those eyes and damn I was so tired for that look. But what choice do I have? His day was frustrating and tomorrow he had a big presentation so I could not say no, how could I ? It would be a disgrace for me as a wife.

         Tomorrow is gonna be a new day with all that same old me and the society that sickens me. I am a feminist and I like to think of me as one. But am I ? Can I be? Ever? 

via : www.dwarkawala.com
via : www.dwarkawala.com

by : Zehra A Ghaffar ( A self proclaimed writer)

blogspot: http://zeehereiam.blogspot.com/

facebook : https://www.facebook.com/zaghaffar

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