womanhood

a work in progress

Category: Woman To Woman (Page 1 of 27)

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Metrics

It makes me sad to know.
Your silence tells me.
You are only interested in the tick boxes.

Who is she dating?
How much is she making?
Are they for good, or just a fly by?
Is she still as slim?

And I feel sick.
To my stomach.

Knowing.
You are this person.

Who recognises people on the basis of this twisted metric.

Money. Sex. Looks.

 

Ugh.

X
K

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Intent

The intentions.
What we started with.
Flow through.

And when we stop being true to who we are, what we really wanted, how we wanted things to go down, it shows.

In the work.
In the gravity of what we do.
In the lives we live.

It shows.

Show up.
For yourself.

Because the outcome,
Will always be better than all the bullshit compromise, the comparing, the adjusting, the navigating, all the crap, you’ve bowed down to.

Show me.
You.

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Keys Out

Somedays.
I wish.
The thoughts in my head.
Would just hit a dead end.
Switch into park.
And stop.

Engines off.

X
K

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My boys

Line up.
Line em up.

Girls all with their pretty peacock feathers.
How pretty can I look?
More than this?
Can I obliterate every fucking imperfection from myself?

So I’m good enough?

Bags under eyes.
Curves at hips.
Restless hair.
Thunder thighs that roar.

And not just that.

No seriously.
Not just that.

How can I ADEQUATELY meet your needs?
Want me to wear heels?
Don’t like my earrings?
Should I change?
For you?

Am I good enough.

We ask ourselves again and again and again.

In everything we do.

With every strand of hair kept in place.
Every diamond earring that says, “I’m So Appropriate For This”.
Every fake smile.
Every chunni pinned to perfection and every tummy sucked in with Spanx so we can breathe a little less and feel like the boys will love us now that they can’t see our tummies.

We think that is what it takes.
To meet the quota.

A room full of girls.
Who never made daddy proud.
Who never made mummy proud.
Who never made the bloody aunties proud.
Enough.

When are we going to change this?
When are you going to wake up?

This one is on us.

Wear what you want.

Walk how you want.

Love who you are.

And bloody hell, have that tequila if you want.

Be a bad girl.

Be a good girl.

Be a naughty girl.

Be a sassy one.

Be the one that makes too much money.

Or be the one who spends a lot of money.

Who cares.

Just be you sweetheart.

Just be you.

 

Xx

K

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Schooled

I’d just like to take a moment.
To thank my husband Vivek.
For preventing me from becoming a man-hater.
For listening to my distaste in men, distrust in men, disgust even, in men.

And then pausing, to give me the potential other side of the story.
For reminding me that I married someone very similar to these men I so despise.

It’s simply that.
We’ve travelled a journey which has changed him and I.

And men are often whom they are,
Because they weren’t educated otherwise.

So.
MY WOMEN IN THE HOUSE.
PLEASE TAKE ON THIS ROLE.

Teach a man.
He doesn’t own you.
He doesn’t own your money.
He doesn’t own the surnames of your children.
He doesn’t own the style of your skirt.
He doesn’t own the sway of your hips.
He doesn’t own the food you have when you go out to dinner.
He doesn’t own your career.
He doesn’t own the relationships you have with your friends and family.
He doesn’t own the jewels you buy, or those that he gifts you.
He doesn’t own the right to tell you when to be home.
He doesn’t own a single inch of you.
Not an inch.

 

And it’s your role, to lock this shit into place.

To cause an uproar.

To fight the fight, be it little or large.

Stand up for what means something to you.

Live a life on your terms and not his.
Because if you keep playing the victim,
Don’t you dare go blaming a wasted life on him.

X
K

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The Affair

I heard a song that reminded me of you, the other day.
A song about shooting stars.

I remember the day I told you, “I could really use a wish right now”.

And I’m glad.
You weren’t there.
You couldn’t show up.
You didn’t.
In that moment.

I’m glad.
Because it made everything clear to me.
About this.

And now I wonder.
Who was that woman.
Needing so much from a man?
Needing a sense of fulfilment from another man?
Needing to feel complete, thinking that you could make me.

Complete?

X
K

You Can’t Control Tomorrow

Hey Karishma,

Don’t step too far into the future.

Take each day, each hurdle as it comes.

Just as you promised yourself with Aru, you’d manage every problem as it came. You couldn’t anticipate all that could come. You’d do your best to be overall, but if it came, you’d be awake to it, alert to it and seek help.

Same thing with this.

You can’t foresee everything.

All the pitfalls, the bad experiences, the hurt.

You can’t save yourself from it all.

So just take each little trouble as it comes.

Solve and resolve.

But darling Karishma.

Don’t spend all your today’s moments dwelling in tomorrow unforseen problems.

You have no control over what will come.

Just do your best today.

And trust that tomorrow will be nothing short of awesome.

Be it awesome laughter and delight.

Or awesome learnings.

X

K

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How To Unravel

If you’re ever lost in the windmills of your mind.
It may serve, to take a lonely drive.
Away from home.
Away from the kids.
Away from the people.

And put your phone to the side.
Close the ipad.

Order a takeaway from your favourite Thai place.
Then sit in the car.

And eat it.
With complete network silence.

You’d be surprise how you begin to unravel with every bite of tofu.

X
K

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On Making Art

I don’t know how you find yourself.
After you dive so deep.
How to take your feet out of the water, when your head is so deeply in.

Its like telling your body to stop falling in love when you are already in love.
Like telling a woman to stop giving birth in her final few moments.
You just don’t stop.

Running this kholo business has made me feel like that.
How do I stop dreaming about it every night?
How do I stop running to thoughts of it every morning?

I have to remind myself.
Balance. Balance. Balance.
Everything in balance Karishma.
But it’s so hard.

When I all I want to do is fall hard.
Tumble deep.
And have my lungs filled with the soulfulness of making art.

That finally.
Art that I love.
And art that women are more than willing to buy.
Hungry to buy.
Hungry to love.
Hungry to breathe in. To.

Finally.
I am alive.

X
K

It just is.

You can never tick all the boxes.

Page 1 of 27

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