THE MASTER STROKE

No. I don’t love you.

And I don’t think I ever will.

At least not till I see it reciprocated.

Nevertheless, I like the way you make me smile.

As I told you, I haven’t done that in a while.

You say you don’t love me.

But I tell you; you cannot.

I am a work of art.

My beauty is my confusion and my soul.

However abstract it may be.

It is what makes me whole.

But they say, every work of art has a simplifying note.

Something that grounds the artwork.

So people can understand it.

You are that to me.

You took all my confusion and simplified it.

You ordinary man!

I always thought I had found the other piece of my soul.

And lost it.

But, when I saw you,

I knew.

I am among those unfortunate few.

Doomed to linger around

Till the next piece is found.

But now I tell you.

I will have you.

And you will love me.

Because there will come a day when you cannot resist.

You will love the madness.

You will wade into the storm.

Knowing well you are signing your death note.

Because no one can love you the way I have.

Maybe because it is not love.

It is hunger.

It is thirst.

Like the parched Earth looks up to the black clouds.

And asks for a few drops of mercy.

Like the moon looks to the sun.

And borrows some of his splendor.

So she may light up her night sky.

You ask me why I love you.

You silly man!

Don’t you see?

You are the sun and moon to me.

The halo I told you about.

It lit up my day when I saw you.

The aura I told you about.

It still holds sway over my night sky.

You certainly aren’t the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

But monuments aren’t meant for backyards.

You cannot build your grave in a pyramid.

You want to rest in peace in the land where you were born.

Simplicity is the masterstroke in every work of art.

And you, you simple man!

You are the masterstroke.

Maybe now you know.

That there is no escape.

You will have to love me.

Someday.

It is written.

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Dear Deepika ‘Dipshit’ Padukone,

Many congratulations to you and your friend Mr Adajania on your latest accomplishment. The video created quite a buzz in the media circles. You were in the limelight again. Aapke depression wale dukhde ne agar koi kasar baaki chhodi thi, toh woh yahan zarur poori ho gayi hain. There is no doubt that your intentions behind making the video titled “My Choice” were very genuine. You, like every other progressive Indian woman, wish to empower the female voice of India. And that is the most noblest of gestures which deserves a standing ovation. One sees that women in India are being treated like objects. And to add to it, the lawyers’ testimonies in the BBC documentary created a new wave of uproar. Women were enraged at the very thought of “India has the greatest culture in the world; here, we have no place for a woman”. This, unfortunately, is the bitter truth. Women, in several inaccesible parts of India, are made to feel embarassed about being feminine even today. And it is this deprived audience that must be targeted while talking about feminism.

MY CHOICE. Dear Deepika, these women don’t have a choice. They don’t even have a voice.

A woman in the villages of India is treated with severe humiliation even when she menstruates. And the solution to that is certainly not the opening of the strap of your brassiere. I understand, that this was symbolic. But my dear, the ordinary Indian woman hasn’t studied art history at undergraduate level to realize this symbolism. She probably studied something sufficient to guarantee a small job.

A woman in rural India cannot go to toilet in broad daylight for fear of being seen by prying eyes and being raped. All she asks for is a decent toilet. Imagine how caged her mind and body must be feeling. Your video hasn’t empowered her, dear. She still has to wait for nightfall to have a peaceful dump.

A woman in uneducated India has to keep having children till her in-laws decide that it’s enough. She isn’t given the privilege of choosing to have a baby or not.. Because, if she resists, she is raped. By the very man who swore to protect her. She isn’t given the choice of inserting a T into her uterus or asking her partner to get a vasectomy done.

Girls in poor India face the fear of being sold, by their own fathers, for peanuts. Deprived of education and proper employment subsequently, she has no choice but to elope with the next best prospect. Though, she is well aware that it is like going from the frying pan into the fire. She doesn’t have a choice.

Several women in India have no access to proper healthcare facilities. Afflicted by myriad diseases and disorders, their pain goes unnoticed. Lack of food results in something lesser than a size zero, and ignorance about healthcare during hormonal disorders results in something beyond a size fifty. Yet, they continue to live with it. Because they can’t dress themselves in appropriate clothing for their ‘pear-shaped’ or ‘apple-shaped’ bodies. They don’t have a choice.

Patriarchal India doesn’t let a woman defend her own rights if she seeks love outside of marriage due to mental torture from an impotent or otherwise, imbecile husband. She can’t choose between temporary love  or eternal lust. And to have feelings for another woman is totally out of the question. The parents were careful to not ‘expose’ her to this culture. It’s not left to her choice anymore. She must be trapped in a loveless marriage because of social diktats.

So, there you are Ms. Deepika ‘Dipshit’ Padukone. The Indian woman doesn’t have a choice. Atleast, not in rural India. And that is where majority of India lives. Not in South Bombay or in other elite parts of the country. These rural women saw your video as yet another overtly bold actress raising her top for a bag of money. You didn’t empower them, dear. You may have given the undergraduates at SoBo colleges a new fashion statement: GO BRA-LESS. And you may have given the elites another topic to discuss at a friendly Sunday brunch. But that’s it. That was the impact of your video. YOU DID NOT EMPOWER ANYBODY.

Lots of love,

An Indian Woman

P.S.: I really liked your role in RamLeela. Do something like that. It suits you.