“If you were a boy it would have been different.”
These are the words which have haunted me for as long as I can remember. Never have I wished for anything more than freedom, yet I am trapped by my chromosomes, by the trick of fate which caused me to become a woman. As a woman, I am taught to live in fear. I am taught that my destiny is to cook and clean and care for the family I must create. Any other desire is seen as foolish, is ridiculed, and suppressed.
For the entirety of my existence, I have been denied of the smallest freedom. Be it the freedom to walk to the park at the end of my street to the freedom of standing up for what I believe in to the freedom of spending time with whom I please. As a member of the female gender and a classic Indian family, every freedom I have today has been earned. I have rebelled against the teachings of generations before me and even the wishes of my loved ones, and have been chastened for doing so. In all honesty, however, I find no wrongdoing in living freely.
All around me I hear stories of rape, of women being suppressed, of womens’ rights being ignored. It is 2015; have we reached the point at which we are able to conquer distant planets but are blind to the injustice taking place on our own? Far too much time has been spent wondering what crime I have committed through my anatomy, why I am surrounded by this nonsensical patriarchy.
Yet the voice within me which comes from somewhere much deeper than can be known screams for liberation, cries for justice. There is beauty in the small acts of rebellion, the voices in the void. It is these small actions which can start a revolution. In the pursuit of the ability to live freely and truly, there are a thousand limitations for one liberation, but that one liberation can lead to a thousand others.
Rage on, dear readers, and don’t even think about stopping till the voices in the void become the unstoppable cacophony of change.