I grew up in India. That means I know a country that kills its girls before they are born. A country where parents of a girl child have to work hard to save money for dowry. A country where wings of women are chopped and dreams are shoved. A country where love happens only on the screen of Bollywood films because marriages are arranged and girls from rural areas and cities still cannot choose love or life partners. Women’s day should have felt special because in a country like that womanhood definitely deserved a day of celebration to cheer up. India is also the country that had a female prime minister, a female president, a lot of warrior queens and princesses, goddesses who killed the evils and saved the goodness. India is also the country where a lot of women fought for independence from the British Government with guns and peace talks until seventy years ago. There are glories to shade the darkness. Continue reading “My thoughts about Women’s Day”
When the winter dies, my mother’s rose plants wake up. The pink one. The pale peach one. The red one. The white one. “Which one is your favorite?”
