Ten years ago I fell in love with the world's best woman... who went on to become my girlfriend. Life was beautiful, our future was set but we all have heard that saying, happiness is short lived and it was definitely 'short lived' for me. "Why did you try to rape her? She loves you!" Asked her father, holding my shirt collar as I saved myself from another slap. "I didn't uncle. It is ...." I cried as I tried my best to convince her family and the police that it wasn't me who did this barbaric act but her own daughter had plotted this against me because I had caught her doing drugs and cheating on me for a rich brat in the city. She didn't want me to open my mouth and let her dirty secrets be out. I tried but words couldn't come out. I couldn't gather the courage to tell them about the sick ordeals of their own daughter and more than that I couldn't say anything because I had loved her from all my heart and soul. They arrested me after my failed attempts at proving my innocence to them. Proceedings happened, beatings took place and after a month of moving to and fro between the court and police station, I was given a sentence of seven years in jail. It is my last year in this attic of guilty and innocent voices but the scars of this misery can never end for this lifetime. But my question is- Is the 'guy' always guilty and 'at fault' for the various incidents of rape, unplanned pregnancies or other inhuman acts of brutality against a woman? Can genuine and sensitive men not exist in this society? Can't there be some incidents wherein a woman takes advantage of the situation? As I write this letter, I realize that today is 8th March, International Women's Day. I don't have hard feelings for anyone now, not even for my 'ex-soulmate' , maybe talking to these dark walls has made me more patient and indifferent over the years. So the women of today, I would like to tell you that men have committed hienous crimes against you rather humanity to be precise but not every man around you is a potential rapist or a salucious animal. You deserve the care and support from the people of our society but you should not raise your noses on being asked to give up that reserved seat in the bus to a seventy year old senior citizen. You all are not behind us men in any manner but don't get into the race to prove that you are the superior gender in our society. Men and women were not made to compete with each other, were they? We understand that it is difficult to balance your work with family and you might feel that we men are not considerate towards the hurdles you have to cross to become the 'ideal' daughter, mother, wife, sister, and daughter-in-law but we men too try our best to become the best son, father, husband, and son-in-law for our family. At the end, we too are humans. We also have tears and ..... a heart that has feelings! Please.... don't think about us as chauvinists running behind you like wild beasts or dominating you to 'toe the line' , we too have our share of difficulties and tribulations in our life, please .... understand us also sometimes.
Sincerely, A man caged inside the walls of innocent guilt.
I had posted this on my blog on women's day. This question and topic always knocked at my mind's door, but I never gave a serious thought to it. Do you feel it is the guy always? Do we always have to stereotype every man as a rapist or molester? Today, do think about it in depth.
I was holding a cup of coffee when I heard her spitting curses from the other room. She was sitting in front of the mirror when I came in, her face buried on a Sylvia Plath. "What happened?" I asked.
She looked at me from her reflection with an expression I couldn't read, "I'm happy." This girl is insane. I try to read her mind but fail. Like I always do. "It's too much," she plainly stated as she flipped through the pages of The Bell Jar. "I keep reading these lines but nothing's working." She has always been fascinated with sad stories and sad songs and everything that has to do with sadness. "What is wrong with being happy?" I asked.
She walked right to me, tiptoed and gave me a kiss. "Nothing, of course. But art doesn't work that way. I need coffee. And a little bit of pain."