Like a 'Son', not a 'Princess'..

Let me put the first things first. I am a true feminist <bold,italic,underline>. But may be I must be careful while saying that, I am a selective feminist, true to ideology.I am not at all concerned/disquieted about the so called relationship crisis that the modern and ultra modern girls (no offence meant, as I really don't care of the strict sense of word-use here) today face in their feebly defined domains of 'love and relationships'(Most of my encounters ended where it mattered till it changed their relationship status on Facebook)! Sorry if I am being too harsh,but those are the instances I came across. I really pity the guys there,trust me,I have to, as I grew up with a bunch of awesome brothers who turned out to be just fine men now! 
Well,I am truly concerned about the actual feminist issues,that are malignant in today's society based on a highly inviolable patriarchal ideologies, not that I am striving to change the conditions but I can say,my thoughts waver around those once too frequently! Woohh!! I am getting too technical and ideological on you I guess.. Well.. there is one simple issue I wanted to really talk about. This post is strictly urban centric.Not at all in intention to hurt any feminists out there. You ll know!


Here goes,

I accompanied my friend to a mall(Ugh!) the other day, and came across a really regular, everyday incident that made me ponder over a little longer than I usually take notice of.. A father with his two children, a boy and a girl,came across one of his colleagues, introduced his kids..
"Hello Sir, this is my son!" <With a pat on the back>
"and this is my little princess" <with both his arms on her shoulder, protectively>
I felt that something different happened there, you may not agree with me! But then, yeah! When their dads introduce the daughters as princesses and the people compliment on her fragile delicacy, the pride a father gets! Yeah.. that is what that made me think..
Here, when a father does that, it subtly implants in the kid's mind..
She either wants to be someone's queen someday, or
She is accepting the fact that she is never going to be treated like a princess ever again. Yeah, and what is with all the sharing on Facebook, saying 'I am my dad's little princess' ?? People are really driving me crazy(Don't even get me started on the cute baby pictures..and sweet comments on them,that is a whole other story!!)I know it is not in the literal sense that they share all those, but really.. Really, what is this craze for the fantasy of being a princess?? They don't have a lot of fun, they don't have to 'earn' anything, all the things are destined to come to them. Fabricated socialization with ornate surroundings where there is never a hint of 'pain'(except for a rare few).. All that is there, is just the glory and grandeur.. Sounds utterly boring!! I did not even say anything of prima donna yet! Uff!! Being treated a princess, fine, I can understand.. Again,on Facebook, what is with this Twilight obsession! Rush of being soooo like Bella?!! No no.. It doesn't end there, you want him to be like Edward! Vampire craze! Seriously! Are you freaking kidding me?!!! First of, that is love at sight(doesn't matter first or whatever) anyways, hands down,that is like the worst love story I ever set my eyes on!


Yeah,yeah.. Getting carried away! Let me come back to the point.. that is where the whole problem starts..in her childhood. She wants her husband or her boyfriend to be more like her father, but it can never match to her expectations on par with the unconditional parental love. She wants him to change a lot in the process where after a while,he feels like he lost himself, may be that is why there is a tremendous lift in the breakups and divorce rates these days. So I think,The more you 'expect' to be treated like a princess, the less you have the chance of earning a sense of 'satisfaction, fun, accomplishment' ,right?


So it would not have been a problem if there was no protective patronage.. if the dad would have introduced her as "This is my daughter" <with a pat on the shoulder>. Like a Son, Not a Princess. After all.. everything that happens in childhood comes around in every phase.. It will always be an inevitable part of who you are, what you do, what you expect and how you perceive things everyday... Most importantly, how you sustain them!
That must have sounded like a really long and boring lecture on a petty issue, but this piece of writing here, is a product of the many frustrated moments I spent listening to my really close friends' so called 'relationship crisis' and patch ups.


We all know Karl Marx,but no one speaks about his aristocratic spouse,truly,I have immense respect for her,her passions and desire to keep them alive all through made her go a long way! #Passion #Admiration! I must say! Well,there is one good friend of mine who had a different story to share, as is to be noted, her father never introduced her to be princess, he loved her like he did his son, making her capable enough to deal with knowing what she wants, seriously, the lady has some clarity in what she wants. 
Well,clarity in 
Life,she makes it a point that her dreams are worth living and will gain her,someday, her own identity..
Love, that is not taken for granted,not defining 'status', while letting each other not lose their identity. It is nice that she knows the value of belonging during hardships, and that a person who is by your side when in pain is going to be with you,come what may, because.. you know, only love and suffering can reveal the most important secrets of life,rather than confining a relationship to gifts, fun and really long,mostly meaningless phone conversations! 
Marriage, trust me, she can make it work,always!! She has that self-chiseled charm in her that makes me look up on her dad as her real 'hero'.. Now I realize,may be it is not too bad growing up never being referred to as 'princess'.. I met nice people! Knock-on-the-wood! Don't want to jinx it..
If you did not get any of that, you need to get only this: Don't make your friends regret their long phone conversations with you, especially when they hate mobiles like me! Its time for some reality and toughness,and that means, the exact opposite of 'cute', 'sweet' and 'Bella-ey'!


PS: This was a result of a really bedevilling and persistently annoying phone call from a friend who has a 'relationship crisis'. I am irritated, and that is really rare.. So I thought I ll take full advantage of this frustration (Thanks to Emile Durkheim!!) and change my template too.. something dark you know.. looks like my taste always goes with minimalistic grunge and my love for blue :D Now now,I don't want to quetch more here.. So..


#Ravali Prasad Signing off! Adios!

The delicate rhythm of a boatman’s song

His eyes had a glitter of glee and celebration, the bicycle sped past the village temple, the aarthi was going on and devotees were singing the bhajans, usually he would have stopped to have put the tilak on his forehead before he went home, but today all that was echoing in his ears was the rhythm of the boatman’s song. Screeching halt infront of a magnificent household, the 6 year old carefully placed the cycle in the shed,he ran towards the house. He was excited as this was his first time alone in the village on the cycle. He rushed inside, saw his aunt sitting in the verandah, panting and all puffed up started singing the song he heard by the river, it was about the river itself and how it flows, like life.. 


“I went to the river all by myself aunty! All by myself! I am all grown up! I was playing near the mango tree, by the school, the fisherman was singing this song while getting his net ready.”

“Oh, so it is a boatman’s song huh?”


“Yes aunty, he told me all about fishing, casting the net and the baits. Then his children came from the school. We played hide and seek, they bought me an ice-gola. I promised that I ll come to play with them every day.”


“So you played with those kids? Go take bath before you enter the house. They are not good kids. You are never going to play with them again.”


“But aunty! They were very nice to me. We had a lot of fun. I promised them. Why shouldn’t I play with them?”


“They are bad kids. They go to a bad school where they teach everything wrong. You should not touch them and you are not going to play with them. Now stop asking me more questions, go take bath now!”


His eyes fell, excitement drained, he left to take bath, that night when his mom asked him to come to dinner, there was one question gnawing his nous.


“Mummy! Aunty said the boatman’s kids went to a bad school and that everything they say is wrong! But I saw mummy, their teacher, like ours, also told them that 2 plus 5 is 7. Why is it that I should not play with them?”


The only answer he got was a pat on the head and a sigh.. He did not get the answer for years, and after he knew the answer, he never felt a rush of excitement seeing the river. It saddens him that he could never play with those kids again.


But he could never stop admiring the delicate rhythm of the boatman’s song.