The Unfair Things in Life.


When a girl is raped, her life is torn apart. She has been violated, disrespected, and crushed in every possible way. It affects her mentally, physically and emotionally. It ALSO affects ALL the other women and girls. And I’ll tell you how.

Because when one woman gets raped, the others are told not to go out after dark. The others are told to stay at home more often because that’s the safer option. The others can’t walk around in certain areas even in broad daylight, because its “unsafe”. The others have to get home early, and call their father/brother/husband/boyfriend to inform them that they’ve reached safely. The others cant go to a club for a night of dancing. The others can’t do so many other things- they just can’t, because after all, it’s “better being safe than sorry”. 

And this is what I want to say – To hell with that.

That one woman who got raped was raped NOT because of what she was wearing, or what time she was out, or where she was, or what she was doing. SHE WAS RAPED BECAUSE SOME ASSHOLE COULDN’T CONTROL HIMSELF AND HIS PERVERTED MIND. And for the record, women and girls could get raped AT HOME too, there are enough and more cases to prove that.

There is just ONE cause of rape – and that is the man who raped. NOTHING ELSE. Not the girl, not her clothes, not her whereabouts, not the time. And people should REALLY stop making these excuses, because that’s all they are. It’s only when men (at least the ones who don’t know this already) are taught that women are equal to them, that women have as much right to be out, stay out late, and NOT BE RAPED, will we start to see any sort of change.


It’s always better to be safe than sorry, isn’t it? And that’s what everyone does. To their daughters and mothers and sisters and themselves (if they’re women). And THIS is what angers me more than anything else.We’re caught in this vicious circle of wanting to bring change, but not being able to because of the very thing we want to change. And this is why I can’t just sit here and say, “To hell with that.” Because I’m sure none of us would risk getting raped for getting equal rights.

And this is why I’m just going to say that it’s all SO UNFAIR. 


With respect to “Respecting Your Elders”

If there’s one thing I’ve learned in life so far, that went against what I’d been taught all along, is this – that no one should respect ANY body merely because of their age. I’ll tell you why.

From the day a child starts to comprehend things, she or he is told to “Respect your elders.” I’ve heard that phrase so many times as a child, and I hear it even now, from parents to their children, from children to other children. But one thing is for sure, if and when I have children, I’m definitely not going to teach them this one thing. Because I don’t believe in it.

‘Respect your elders”. WHY? Because they’re older to you? Is that why? That isn’t respect. Respect is something you give to someone who earns it, not because they just happen to be older to you (no matter by how many years). Respect is something you treasure, and give to only those who are worthy of such a great thing. A person has to command respect, not demand it. 

Just because someone is old, doesn’t give them the right to put you down. It doesn’t give them the right to hurt you, or do and say wrong things themselves, or touch you in a way you don’t like. Just because some one is elder, it does not give them the right to disrespect you, and expect you to respect them- merely because of their age

I’ve been through some tough times in my life, just as everyone else has, and that’s one thing I have learnt. And I am unapologetically going to say – I don’t respect people, who ever they may be, just based on their age. I don’t care if they’re older to me. (That doesn’t mean I’m going to outright disrespect them or just not respect them at all. I am always polite and nice to elders.) I respect people the way I want other people to respect me – I’d like to be someone who earns their own respect by the things they do and the king of person they are, and not just because of age. 

So don’t respect your elders. Be polite, kind and well-mannered to them. And respect only those who respect you.

Cupcake Emergency – A Short Story

I simply love cupcakes. I can eat them anytime, anywhere.My favourite is of course, red velvet with cream cheese icing. I don’t know why, but eating cupcakes just makes me very, very happy. Every time we have cupcake sales in college (or anywhere, for that matter), I make it a point to pick up the company’s card or take down a number to call for orders.
So one evening, my cousin and I were craving for cupcakes. This was no ordinary craving, it was a gut-wrenching, brain-freezing, I-want-it I-need-it sort of craving. One step below a pregnant-woman-craving kind of craving. There were no good places that sold cupcakes around, but we just had to get some.
I ran upstairs to our bedroom, and pulled out the bunch of cards and numbers that I’d been collecting in my wallet. I spread them out on the bed, and picked the best. She was a college student, who made home deliveries. And the red velvets she made were absolutely beautiful, topped with thick cream cheese icing and cute, coloured sprinkles.
I ran down with her number in hand, and picked up the phone.
“So how many would you like?” she asked, moments later.
My cousin and I exchanged sheepish looks as I said, “Six?”
“Is this for someone’s birthday?”
“Okay, when shall I deliver them?”
“In a few hours?”
“Uh-” she sounded a bit taken aback. But then I guessed she heard the plea and urgency in my voice.
“Okay, then. Where should I get them?”
Five hours or so later, I was standing outside the house, pacing up and down. Our craving hadn’t abated, it had grown with the wait.
I was getting restless, when a car pulled up in front of me. A girl got out, a brown box in her hand. She looked at me and said my name questioningly. I nodded vigorously, smiling. “The cupcakes?”
“Yeah, got them!” She lifted the box in her hands.
“Thank you so much!” I paid her, took the box from her, and went inside. I couldn’t wait to open it and gorge.
My cousin’s eyes were shining when she opened the door. We kept the box on the table and opened the lid slowly.
There inside were six red velvet cupcakes, three topped with chocolate icing, and three topped with cream cheese icing. No sprinkles, but that was probably because of our last minute order.
We stared at them for a while, and then, without speaking, helped ourselves to one. I will never forget the joy I felt after taking that first bite. The moist, fresh cake and the thick creamy icing. Melting in my mouth. Ah, the glorious feeling of a craving satisfied.We ate in a happy, glowing silence, till there were no cupcakes left, and the table was littered with wrappers and our fingers were flecked with icing.
After even that was gone, we slumped in our seats,and sighed. I’d thought three cupcakes each would be a small number, but these were super filling and quite heavy. My cousin and I kept this incident confidential, it was our secret guilty pleasure.
I have eaten better cupcakes since then, but I will never forget how wonderful those cupcakes tasted to us on that day. They were the best, because that’s how it feels when a craving is satisfied.