"Destiny is the name given often in retrospect to choices that had a dramatic consequences." J.K. Rowling.
It is fate or it is destiny is a phrase often heard. But for me, I have always questioned the challenges that fate hurled at me, on its face. I was always a rebel who questioned all the lines drawn for women alone in this society. But sometimes it is a sad quirk of life indeed that you feel the irony of being a woman, when mindset and comments of some people come as a slap on my face. Something verbal or a situational irony renders one helpless but for me, my instinct was to give a tight slap on the face of those two well dressed men or should I say animals. But the human in me thought I would be making myself impure by touching those scoundrels.
What is beauty? A beautiful face, a well shaped body and a beautiful bust? Is that the only aspect that makes a woman beautiful. It is irony that these two scoundrels were standing behind commenting, thinking I was a young woman, may be because of my short hair or they didn't see my grey hair or it didn't matter what age a woman is, but little did I realize that the comments were targeting me. Only when I turned around to pay at the counter, I heard the comment, "Ayye da munpil onnum illa." ( Hey, she has nothing in front.) Though my first instinct was to slap them with my slippers and ask them If they had no women folks at home, I just gave them a dirty, cold stare and walked away. But my skin was burning, listening to what all they had commented.
I have never bothered about my appearance when I shaved my head, nor when I lost one breast or with no breast. I would say it has served its purpose and gone. I could have bought false breast and tucked it inside and walked about as if nothing has happened. But then I was not made that way nor did I bother about anything. But two animals who would be my son's age showing disrespect to women was too much for me to take. I am still not bothered about my appearance nor my feminine beauty. I was, am and will be what I am always.
It is generally believed that a truly beautiful woman is physically appealing, and it is an irony of life that such is the society where physical beauty is observed with a high degree of importance. Is real beauty in the face or body? I always hated men who never looked at the face but elsewhere while they talk. Wetheral a woman is complete or not, there is a glow in everything about her though looking feminine is a key factor. I have always valued the respect a woman is given at home as well as outside, with a line of dignity that I never crossed. It takes a lifetime to be respected but a split of a second is enough for that respect to crash all around.
I feel a woman is also admired for the inner beauty she reveals staying within her boundaries of life. The inner spark that glows around makes a woman more beautiful. It is not in the clothes, but true beauty is revealed in the eyes and reflected in the soul. It is in her caring ways, that grows within through the passing years as she ages gracefully.
What is this feeling,
That rushes through me,
Unveiling my capabilities,
Like a fine intricate lace.
A smoldering power,
Still ignites a burning,
Longing of something,
To fulfill my heart.
A heat penetrates,
Through the veins,
Spreading through my body,
And then cools the soul.
Like the venom surging,
To kill the monster,
That robbed me off,
My so-called feminine beauty.
But my will is stronger,
Than any maladies,
Or insulting comments,
To take away my positive glow.
It is fate or it is destiny is a phrase often heard. But for me, I have always questioned the challenges that fate hurled at me, on its face. I was always a rebel who questioned all the lines drawn for women alone in this society. But sometimes it is a sad quirk of life indeed that you feel the irony of being a woman, when mindset and comments of some people come as a slap on my face. Something verbal or a situational irony renders one helpless but for me, my instinct was to give a tight slap on the face of those two well dressed men or should I say animals. But the human in me thought I would be making myself impure by touching those scoundrels.
What is beauty? A beautiful face, a well shaped body and a beautiful bust? Is that the only aspect that makes a woman beautiful. It is irony that these two scoundrels were standing behind commenting, thinking I was a young woman, may be because of my short hair or they didn't see my grey hair or it didn't matter what age a woman is, but little did I realize that the comments were targeting me. Only when I turned around to pay at the counter, I heard the comment, "Ayye da munpil onnum illa." ( Hey, she has nothing in front.) Though my first instinct was to slap them with my slippers and ask them If they had no women folks at home, I just gave them a dirty, cold stare and walked away. But my skin was burning, listening to what all they had commented.
I have never bothered about my appearance when I shaved my head, nor when I lost one breast or with no breast. I would say it has served its purpose and gone. I could have bought false breast and tucked it inside and walked about as if nothing has happened. But then I was not made that way nor did I bother about anything. But two animals who would be my son's age showing disrespect to women was too much for me to take. I am still not bothered about my appearance nor my feminine beauty. I was, am and will be what I am always.
It is generally believed that a truly beautiful woman is physically appealing, and it is an irony of life that such is the society where physical beauty is observed with a high degree of importance. Is real beauty in the face or body? I always hated men who never looked at the face but elsewhere while they talk. Wetheral a woman is complete or not, there is a glow in everything about her though looking feminine is a key factor. I have always valued the respect a woman is given at home as well as outside, with a line of dignity that I never crossed. It takes a lifetime to be respected but a split of a second is enough for that respect to crash all around.
I feel a woman is also admired for the inner beauty she reveals staying within her boundaries of life. The inner spark that glows around makes a woman more beautiful. It is not in the clothes, but true beauty is revealed in the eyes and reflected in the soul. It is in her caring ways, that grows within through the passing years as she ages gracefully.
What is this feeling,
That rushes through me,
Unveiling my capabilities,
Like a fine intricate lace.
A smoldering power,
Still ignites a burning,
Longing of something,
To fulfill my heart.
A heat penetrates,
Through the veins,
Spreading through my body,
And then cools the soul.
Like the venom surging,
To kill the monster,
That robbed me off,
My so-called feminine beauty.
But my will is stronger,
Than any maladies,
Or insulting comments,
To take away my positive glow.
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