Am I a feminist

So recently I was asked if I had feminist views. That got me thinking...do I? Honestly I never thought in those terms. The fact that whether I am a feminist or not. I do believe in equality, gender equality. I do think we all whether male of female have the right to scio-economic, political equality. But does that make me a feminist?
A famous person (Emma Watson) recently said this quite well and I paraphrase that feminism by definition means gender equality but lately it has become synonymous with man-hating. That just won't do. I definitely know I do not believe in that.
I do think sometimes all the power and attention that has been endorsed to this issue has tipped the balance in a way. Women are striving to attain equality and yet are misguided in thinking it will only be possible by demeaning or degrading the masculine gender. Is that fair? To paint the whole gender in the same color?
I don't think so.
If equality is to be attained then a balance needs to be struck. The women have to rise and the men have to let go of their egos. It is like in any aspect of nature. Yin and Yang. Until there is a balance of genders, harmony does not seem likely.
I do not say this lightly. All my life I have met resistance and have been judged and ridiculed and under estimated just because of my gender. I have struggled with those odds but at the same time kept in sight that it was a male member of the world that actually gave me my wings to fly.
We just have to break the cycle of entitlement is what it is. Men are not born privileged or with the knowledge that they are (mistakenly) the superior gender. It is the parents or society as far as early education goes, who give them the values and thoughts that they are special or different and that blue is for boys and only cars and trucks are to be played with.The retailers propagate this as well.
  This gender defining activities are what sets the two genders apart since childhood and as they grow older the abyss grows and so does the gender definitions. Same goes with the girls of the world. They do not have to wear pink all the time, learn ballet and cook and play with dolls. If  there is a conscious dilution of the rigid roles and definitions, it will by itself  dissolve a huge part of the stark differences.
So the question still remains....am I a feminist?  

I am beautiful...you are beautiful...we are all beautiful!!

Yes, I am. It took me a very very long time to say that....and much longer to believe it. When someone calls you names and points out a physical uniqueness, it hurts. Just like you call someone fat, deaf, retard, gay, brown, shortie, skinny, blind, darkie, paki, etcetra...ahh...did you hear something that has been said to you? It hurts doesn't it?
Am I sensitive...you betcha I am. So would anyone else be who has feelings. Yes its called being decent, respectful and civilized. Now I am not asking anyone to be hypocritical. One can say what one thinks. Just be mindful of people's feelings is what I ask.
This is a much bigger issue than one would perceive. For one these are labels people give to people to make fun of them and some in the misguided opinion that they are doing them a favor by being blunt. Well, honestly these labels and name calling hurts. Don't we tell children not to call their peers names? Do we not tell them to be respectful and polite? Why? If you are going to go around calling people names? You think your child will hear what you are saying or ape what you are doing? Then what? They grow up and replicate a rude and insensitive society and continue to propagate such behavior.
It is not only a over weight person or any other physical short coming person that feels hurt. Have you thought of a beautiful girl. When you tell her she is gorgeous she feels good. But then any body randomly calling her Hotty, Sexy, Babe.... and cat calling and whistling. Does it not hurt her? Did she ask to be attractive. Most women will tell you they are shy and cringe at such attention. Now some people might say  boo hoo, poor little attractive girl. Yet, she is being labeled as well. My beef is not with just calling people names but also understand that people have feelings and those feelings get hurt.
Do not defend such people by saying its their culture, they are old timers, its endearing. Where will it stop then? Educate them. It might fall on deaf ears. It might be like banging your head on a brick wall, but in the end you have to TRY. By throwing your hands up and saying what can we do? Ignore such people. You are also passively encouraging such behavior. Break the cycle. Say no. Push back. Don't be aggressive or rude...by all means be civil. But find a way to let such people know that it is not okay to call people names even if they thought it was funny. It is not. It is annoying.
We want to leave this world a better place not worse.
When we look at a coming of age movie or read a book we usually clap and talk incessantly about how brave the protagonist was and fought for their identity and earned our respect. Well, why can you not take it one step further and bring the respect home? Recognize your flaws and at least try to work on them. Stop others from indulging in that kind of behavior.

There is an Indian saying by a poet Kabir-

"बड़ा हुआ तो क्या हुआ , जैसे पेड खजूर !
पंथी को छाया नहीं, फल लगे अति दूर !!"

Translation- It doesn't matter how big you get, just like a date/palm tree. 
                   Until you do not provide a weary traveler any shade or fruit ,
                                       you are of no consequence! 

Change...the only constant

We change is all that I know....
We must....we have to...
there is no other way....
we cannot stop it....
as we grow older....
we learn new things...we experience different emotions...
they all change us...
like the ebb and flow of tide...
our lives flow on and on....
but we are different ever flow.

What was once the all important ...life changing event...
in long time to come...becomes ridiculously miniscule and insignificant.

The only constant life that truly remains before it ends....is change. 

The glass in my eye is stuck...

The frame caught the corner of the other frame...
shattering the glass in an infinite number.
The crunching sound and the glint of glass that caught the light...
all happened in the blink of an eye.

The water spilt out of my eyes,
the glass had entered my eye.
The pain was immense...and yet...
there was no physical piece of glass in there.

Lying on the floor,
watching the shattered frames and cracked glasses around me...
I wonder how I arrived here.

The picture that was once a memento of a special moment,
now was covered in cracked glass,
just like the fractured love now that was once my life.

I often heard that everything comes to an end
and most often in life, I have lived the end of so much.
Yet, this was one thing I never thought would end.
The endless, honest love we shared that was the centre of my life.

Am I selfish that I want you to reach out to me?
Am I spoilt to expect a phone call?
Am I immature if I look forward to a heart to heart with you?
Can I not hope for a little understanding?
A little affection....a little satisfaction?

I do not know...but the pain of your distance and loss has entered
my eye...like the shattered glass on our picture together...and makes me
weep so often....for my eye has the glass of your memory stuck in it.....

The Soul is thirsty.....

Why is the Soul thirsty?
What is that one looks for that will quench it?

I dream every day...of something new....
Most people think of me as flimsy....
I think I am a chef today and a painter tomorrow.
Somedays I do both and there are days I can be either...
The question is... is it that bad?

I feel my soul craves to be drenched in bliss...
I am not out looking for happiness but trying to find
happiness in little things on a daily basis.

I might not make sense by the standards of the rotting social norms...
I may look odd...
I may even look ridiculous to some sensible two shoes....

Yet...this is me....and I am always on the look out for like minded
people...who get it...and want to get lost in the chaos...
just to find the fleeting glimmer of....the sheer moment of joy.....