This poem is to counter a bawdy #MeToo poem which aims at sadistically maligning Hindu Gods and mythological figures which has been circulating on Social media. Also, as a counter for pseudo feminists and feminazis who may or may not have had such experiences but are convenient fishing these wishful memories after years or decades of leveraging the benefits of silence and now have jumped on the bandwagon of #MeToo as a tool for revenge or plain maligning of an unsuspecting public figure with whom they may have interacted in the past…I am not saying the guilty should go ununpunished, if the aggrieved lady in question has worked up her courage she should now report such a person, file a police complaint and inform the National Women’s Commission. Not sit on a plush leather couch and wave a #MeToo lace kerchief.. We as a society should encourage the silent, working class, oppressed working populace to stand up and get sexual predators and perpetrators identified, belted and booked. Our next generations should be trained to share brave tales of how #IKnockedTheLivingDayLightsOffMyHarrasser than soggy, faded and apologetic #MeToo sagas.
No #MeToo. How #IKnockedTheLivingDayLightsOffTheSod
No I don’t have a sorry tale of #MeToo
Cause I grew up empowered
Acknowledging the Goddess within
I grew up worshipping the valiant Durga
And learnt to recognize her living inside
I learnt to unleash her if the situation so required
And to proudly own my responsibilities,
Self-defence and protection being primary
I learnt to lead the charge, for I am Ma Katyayani
From a tender loving maiden
I can transform into a warrior woman
Capable of riding a ferocious Lion to the battlefield
I learnt to fight my own battles with squared shoulders
Cause I am educated and an empowered naari (not an abala naari)
And I have all the tools and training to holler bloody murder
If someone were stupid or naive to show me the finger
Even if I had to stand up to someone twice my size
I have the conviction and the courage
To unleash a Chamunda or a Bhadrakali
For my culture reveres the combatant feminine
The image of a living Goddess
I am embody memories of innumerous Devi’s
From Candika, to Skandamata, to Bhairavi
I can call forth the terrifying Kaalratri
Each manifestation more ferocious than the previous
It is foolish to paint me as meek
I who kick ashes on the crematorial earth
And dance on the mightiest male chest sprawled on the ground
None of my feminine versions
you bet would be caught lisping a #MeToo
Cause I proudly dangle and display scalp of the adharmiks
I have grown up enthralled and inspired
Portraying the capability inherent in women
So she rises up to be a Para-Shakti
Capable of snuffing out evil and the unjust
So what rubbish is this #MeToo
Like a silly detergent ad pitching envy over faded stains
Instead lets share tales of
#HowIBeltedTheLivingdayLights out of perpetrators
Defying boundaries of feminine frailty
It doesn’t need gilded backgrounds
or a black-belt in self-defense
All it needs is the power of conviction
Affirm aloud – self-pride is above material constraints
All it takes is a vehement NO
For your firm nay is not up for bargain
Those who quote Krishna and Gopi’s raas leela
Such shallow fools, unable to comprehend a simple allegory
Explaining relation of the divine and the soul (unrealized)
Krishna taught us the spiritual path,
the dharma of action, the laws of cause and effect
Of total surrender to the divine
And renunciation of the futile ego
With beautiful representative metaphors
Our mythology is full of leading ladies
Who supposedly were subservient and always losing
But only the shallow minded will be blind
To their examples of high morals and winning lessons
Each if them were leading ladies of their respective sagas
Teaching forgiveness and societal balance
Sure Sita gave the test of fire,
Draupadi had to face the stripping vouyers
Ahalya Devi was immobilized to a stone
But the moral is not lost
Each of them played their part
With nerves of steel, quiet dignity and grace
Playing as equals to their male counterparts
Why go so far into the yugas
When our recent history is full of so many contemporaries
Braveheart women with tales of valor exemplary
Young Jhansi Ki Raani – Laxmibai embodied Skandamata
Determined to fight till her last breath
She drew her sword and charged
With her little one strung on her back
Or the valiant Kuyili – woman commander of brave Rani velu Nacchiyar
She lit her paraffin soaked body
And hurled herself as a conflagration
At the enemy’s arms depot
Happily sacrificing herself in defence of her nation
Or the indomitable Rani Abbaka Chowta of Tulunaad
Who repeatedly challenged and chased the retreating enemy
Several hundred kilometers along the west coast
Defeating them in each of their strongholds
Victorious she reclaimed the lost fortresses
Or the beguiling Unniarcha of Malabar
a medivial mastero of Kalaripayattu martial arts
Who could reel in the ribbon blade with a flick of her finger nail
And fought better than the best of Men
It works both ways, I wouldn’t condone
Feminazis pestering hapless boys and men
So it’s a no for peeping-Tina’s to pellmell their stained napkins
Onto the teenage mahayogi Swamy Ayappa
In Yoga Nidra at Sabarimala
It’s a no to abuse tender boys
When they are at most vulnerable
For each has a right to live safe and mature unsullied
Oh yes, the world is full of predators
and my life too had a few slinking in
Most of them the sly hyena kind
Many a time a baleful stare would suffice
But On sighting the teeth brandishing Rakteshwari
They choose to disappear into the crowd
I only have tales of standing my ground
Of how #HowIBeltedTheLivingdayLights off some scum
Sure at times I was bruised and my pride hurt
That I could be seen as helpless gal
But I tell you fixing some guy screaming up a peg
Is far more satisfying,
You need to show you mean business
Be it on a busy railway bridge
Or in a crowded bus
Or while zipping through a busy street
Or in the workplace or out in the fields
All I remember are the looks of incredulous surprise
For my hands were faster than my brain or thought
And before the ass-hole with the wandering hand
could comprehend –
I had pinned the fella down wriggling
By the scruff of his dirty collars
My space and dignity was worth the courage and fight
To watch him spluttering and spewing
Let go, pleading flabbergasted
The tables turned, how puny the perpetrator
But my hands with a will of their own wouldn’t
For there is profound satisfaction
In hearing a well-deserved slap landing
His red face deepening purple and my tingling palm
It’s such a pity that the #MeToo brigade
Never thought of self-defense and instant redemption
Never considered being inspired by our legendary women stars of yore
They made their little hay and now wave sorry
Excuses of their own sordid compromises
I did rather let the voiceless workers have their say
Of how they whipped and stripped human snakes
I did rather teach our young ones to treat each other with respect very
So we build a future dignified
No more soggy, faded #MeToo tales
I did rather teach them to stand their ground against sexual perverts
And later bandy tales of how #HowIBeltedTheLivingdayLights while guarding my turf, my body and pride.
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