The Void Within

There was a faint chill in the warm May air and a calm that bought a feeling of change; a change as ancient and intangible as time. 

I was lying on my bed in a pale yellow nightdress staring into the dark space. Million thoughts, one after another kept floating in my mind. Dead silence and a deep settling void were my only companion besides the empty black sky. And all I wanted to do was break free.

Good morning madame Toastmaster of the day and fellow dreamers. The year was 2010 and I was still an engineer in making. A profession I so hated that I was ready to do anything to escape it. However, there were 3 things I realised then

1. I wasn't a risk taker

2. I didn't want to disappoint my parents 

And 3. Drinking mountain Dew doesn't really help. And so the struggle continued, internally. Being in a college where everyone was happy to pursue their dream I felt like an outsider. With no one to befriend I started recoiling in my shell. Have you ever felt that? An hankering need to have a companion? A friend with whom you could be yourself, and yet they won't walk away from you. I needed that friend as I was slowly falling in the whirlpool called void. Days turned into months and December arrived, the month when I was supposed to go to my college Industrial Visit up north. I was afraid, how would I enjoy? During my two years of blogging I ended up making a lot friends. It was then for the first time ever that I talked to one on phone. 

Mishti: What's up Fatima. How are things going on? 

Me: Hi mishti Travelling! Out on a trip from college currently in Corbett heading to Nainital. 

Mishti: Wow did you see tigers? So must be excited? 

Me: Haha no tigers. Excited yes content no, I'm travelling with a group yet I'm all lost and alone there seems to be a void. 

Mishti: Try to at peace even when your emotions are bubbling on the surface. You're travelling forget mean classmates, explore the place. At the end only these moments matter, they are the ones that bridge the gap between you and I and what fills the void within.

And just like the winding roads that connected places, a connection was born.

She, I felt understood me. Instead of abandoning me, chose to stay. It's not about someone making us happy. Friends it's about who fills the void within, the emptiness that surrounds.

Times changed, I graduated, did my post graduation yes in engineering. And started working two jobs six days a week to dedicating half the Sunday to Toastmasters yet something was missing.

In spite of the fact having decided to not follow the rat race and turn into a money making monkey, I turned into one. It felt like a cat and mouse game where I was happy yet not truly content. At that moment when I was again drifting apart Toastmasters came to my rescue in form of Confluence 2016.  I  realised connections are not always supposed to be the ones that give you a high. Sometimes a connection is that soothing feeling that brings in peace and makes you feel at home. Just like the ocean was breathtakingly beautiful with the wind, stars and moon as its companions.

I found the connection within myself and in turn with everyone from MTM, I got a chance to connect to the real you Namrata, Pankaj, Prashant, Harsimran, Ravi and others outside MTM. I had gone to Goa to escape but what I found there is something which can't be expressed but only felt.

Friends remember this, "Life is a series of hits and misses and sometimes there are only dark days at a stretch. Don't lose hope or let the void overpower you, hold on. Just like the sun, that shines after a long dark night!"

-Fatima

P.S: Won Best Speaker Ribbon for this speech.

Make a Difference

Local trains are the lifeline of Mumbai, where we come across different types of people. My experience though is confined to the ladies compartment both first and second class. It was during one of my journey's some years ago that I saw a group of ladies forcing a young kid selling notebooks to get off the compartment as it was the first class. It made me question what was the child's fault?  why the second hand citizen treatment?

Good evening Toastmaster of the day and fellow Toastmasters.

Has it ever happened to you like it did to me that a particular incident shook you to the core? Blurring the lines between black and white, making you question people. How do they help in the progress of their society? That giving charity to the underprivileged is not the only thing they need, that there is more.

Let me share with you all a story that is very close to my heart. I graduated in the summer of 2013, though I felt elated and free there was a void in me. A void no matter what I did, didn't disappear. It left me pondering; I had everything for comfort a roof over my head, meals three times a day, education and my family but what about those others who struggled day in and out. I was bursting with energy I wanted to give back to society, to the people who help in making our lives comfortable on the expense of theirs. I had heard donating money is the best help you can give to people.

However, I wanted to do something that was more than momentary, something they  could use. And the opportunity presented itself. I was recruited in an NGO called MAD, Make a Difference as a teaching volunteer. Every Sunday from 3 to 6 p.m. starting from the month of August I began visiting my assigned shelter home St. Francis Orphanage in Borivali. It was no cake walk, it should be shouldn't it after all, all I taught those kids was English for two hours at the most. It wasn't the teaching nor the commitment that was tough it was the connection, the social gap that was there. Each Sunday was a revelation.

I was assigned four 8th std kids and one of the biggest hurdles I had was connecting with those teenage boys. At first it was difficult they were too mischievous and troublesome for my handling especially those initial days when I had no buddy. Half the time it was like police and robbers game where I was the one chasing them to sit in one place and eventually at the end I was the one left tired and they laughing at me. I used to get irked easily those days but later on I realised this was the only time they could laugh and enjoy. With the passing of time we grew closer though not as much as I would have liked as they were with my buddy Omkar. He was the cool teacher and I was the one they turned to when they were down or too energetic.

There were moments of intense joy and downright sadness with all those emotions that were directly linked to what happened with them over the week. And eventually the year came to end.

I had gone there to teach to make these kids a part of the global nation but it was I who ended up learning. I taught them English they taught me the language of emotions, of understanding, of true joy, contentment and hope. They do not crave charity a hundred or so odd others give them that, what makes them smile is love,  time and effort freely given. In an age where we run behind materialistic things looking far ahead at the bigger picture we often times forget the small pixels, the ones when joined together make a spectacular picture. On an end note all I would say is "We make a living by what we get, but we make a life by what we give." 

-Fatima

Women Stereotypical.. Really??

A wallflower,  a doormat.  One who doesn't have a voice, no freedom no life! If, this is  our first impression about 'her'; it is not she but us who need an education.

Good morning Toastmaster of the day, fellow Toastmasters and guests. I a modest woman of the 21st century pose to you a grave question.  Are all women stereotypical? Some of you may agree, some disagree. Further down the line maybe you'll debate on their ethnicity. Asians may say middle-eastern are oppressed. The middle-eastern might pity the western women who are free and yet bound by clutches. While the west may have a similar opinion on the Asian counterpart. All lost! Every change in the vicious cycle of categorising women, sometimes by women themselves . But hey, have you ever bothered knowing what's beneath. Beneath the skin irrespective of colour, caste, religion and creed. There's a heart just like yours that beats.

Indian woman. What comes to your mind when you think of an Indian woman. A god fearing, head bowed down to respect men obedient and homebound, waiting to be freed of the age old philosophy. Or an uneducated village girl or a modern girl from city who idolises the western society. To each his own. Unless you are totally ignorant or a foreigner,  your impression of Indian women solely relies on the media. What the media shows is not always the complete picture. True,  villages are the heart of India but not every village woman is uneducated or backward. If that were the case there would have been no woman teachers or sarpanch. What the media shows is a twisted image of the condition of women sometimes for some political agenda other times simply for the sake of gaining sympathy and viewership.

On a more global and personal level, there are two imageries that are the most common ones; picture a muslim woman and the accompanying image comes with a burqa or an hijab that's the headscarf. And if the lady in question doesn't wear none then lightly put, she's more than likely to hear wow! You're a different liberal woman. Hello my dears!!! Is the outer covering or the lack of the only thing that describes me as a woman? She is covering herself she must be a religious conservative, shy and a victim of male domination.  Poor soul doesn't even get a chance to voice her opinion. Oh my God isn't that harsh? Isn't that again stereotyping? How do we know she's all those things? Did we find it out first hand or like everyone else our first impression was made with the media image? Not everything is as it seems, true 10 % may fall under this convention but what about the rest? Take time to think before you reach a conclusion.

Another recent example of this can be the condition of certain women in the European countries. Let's take France for example, I'm sure everyone hears the news. The latest burkini ban! Duh what is that? It's just a term coined using burqa and a bikini, a beach wear designed for hijab and burqa clad ladies. India approves it, after all burkini beats bikini here any day. Alas! Peace is always short lived, there is always some or the other ban taking place somewhere in the world. Ban the hijab, ban the burkini, ban woman from voting yes yes it's the Vatican City, ban woman leaving home at night and ban the bikini too. Oh no no,  the last one is okay, it's nothing to worry about. But in the 50s even woman donning bikini's were stereotyped as loose morals and banned by the church. Are they truly?

Why 50s even now when women wear short dresses or something that is not 'society' approved there is an uproar. So miss X was raped,  it's her fault why was she flaunting herself to him and travelling alone at night, women are supposed to be in bed by 9. Or she had completely hidden herself in her veil,  I'm a hot blooded man obviously I was curious,  it is all her mistake. So much for woman liberation and equality where people judge us on the way we dress!

Stop double speaking,  stop judging woman by what you see what you hear. Next time you see another woman, whatever her colour or attire be. Stop that brain of yours from wondering about how she is, you might be wrong. There's a saying 'Don't judge a book by its cover',  so 'Stop judging and start embracing.'

Note: Speech is made out of facts and figures researched from the Internet. (Topic required a little research)

-Fatima

Colloquy in Cold

Prelude to this

It was nearing eventide, the quaint cafe at the end of the cobblestone road was nearly vacated. A band of youngsters were crooning to some soft acoustic music filling the café with mellow notes.

She was sitting across him nestling a cup of warm black coffee in the confines of her mitten covered palms. Winters, coffee, conversations and them, they were the only things that remained unchanged in a sea of time, careers and friendships. The only ones they looked forward to every year.  One thing led to another, and laughter breezed through them.

"I suspect highly that sharing our feelings make us raw to being vulnerable. It’s better to not share because sometimes, some things are best locked in the crevices of our hearts and minds. You know it is not good when someone knows us to the point of vulnerability. It’s like they can exploit you and you can’t even put a stop to it," Ayah swift-ed the chat.

Having known each other for the past eight years he was not at all surprised by the sudden change in conversation. Yasin nibbled the last of his biscuit before reciprocating back to her.

"Sometimes you let people know you, and you do that to fight your own loneliness. Some might say, I prefer my solitude but aren't they the same people whose face lights up in the company of others. Aren't they susceptible to vulnerability? The smile that brightens their moment gives away more than words ever can. You know you aren't really vulnerable until you let yourself be."

"I wish I could hug you, but we both know how afraid I am. Afraid to trust someone all over again," she responded softly continuing to gaze outside seeing the rain loudly lashing the window pane.    

-Fatima

Part II

Alone We Can Do So Little Together We Can Do So Much

It was a varied group comprising of both men and women tied together by the bonds of blogging that met on the warm summer afternoon on Saturday the 30^th of March at the Times of India, Mumbai Office organized by IndiBlogger to discuss the issues affecting women following the recent cases of abuse and need for safety under “Mumbai For Women” initiative. The discussion focused the city’s duty towards the female populace irrespective of their social standings and age.

From teenagers to senior citizens, to women who are homemakers and breadwinners and even men sharing horrifying incidents happening to colleagues and relatives sparked off the discussion. Not just deserted or shoddy lanes but even busy roads, local trains and platforms are common target areas. In a matter of few seconds everything dissipated but just one question, “Is this really an Independent India where women are neither safe in broad daylight nor after the night lights are out?” remained unanswered.

According to the graphs and reports, Mumbai is by far the safest city for women. But is this what we really are aiming for, safety in the name of submission? And yet in spite of Mumbai being termed safer there are still cases of manhandling, rape, sexual harassment to name a few on daily basis. It is barbaric to know that age doesn’t matter when it comes to being a victim. “I feel safe in other countries but not my own,” said one female travel blogger. While another blogger, narrated a grab and run case that happened with his wife just outside a busy railway station.

When we say safety, it’s not just linked to the upper class of the society but to even the lower one. Not to forget, there is still a section of society that lives below the poverty line where there are hardly means of earning a livelihood let alone ensuring safety for women. Bridging this gap between the middle class and poor is easier said than done. Inculcating the boys with equality, teaching them they are not superior to women but equal on every front is the need of the hour.

There are so many cases where the wife who is the sole breadwinner of the family gets beaten by her husband whenever he is drunk, moreover she accepts this and says, “He loves me he is just a little put off as he is drunk and I don’t make more money.” And this is not just the story of a maid this even happens in upper class houses but women are afraid to speak wherein they should break their silence.

All this liberation and unity can only be attained by education, still how many of us who are educated are willing to step out of our comfort zone volunteering to teach and guide these people? There are only a few handful of people willing to help, rest of them just blame the system.

Time and again the police forces, the government and even the railway police are blamed for lack of adequate security, helpline numbers et al. What people really need to understand at this stage is that, the system is what we make of it and not what it makes us. There might be some petty officials who are corrupt but not everyone is the same. “Some days back my friend forgot her laptop in train, she immediately called the Railway Helpline number 9833331111 and to her relief she got back her laptop back within an hour,” said a fellow TOI employee during the discussion. Another quoted, “I travel by train daily and I once noticed that the railway helpline number written on the inside of the compartment was scratched yet the various meaningless posters that are put up were left untouched.” If, this is the attitude of citizens then what help would the government officials be? It’s high time the blame game is stopped and even citizens take their duty seriously.

When you see something wrong, raise your hands and stop it. At the same time when someone does a good thing encourage and reward them. Appreciation and motivation go a long way thereby making people responsible. Change is inevitable and it begins in small steps. Encourage the Times Of India, Mumbai For Women initiative and also look out for the Job Fair for women at R A Podar College, Matunga(CR), Mumbai on the 6^th and 7^th of April between 10am to 5pm.

 Mumbai, the city of dreams bustling with busy life racing against time, where people don’t have enough time to stand and stare has finally come together and joined hands for the safety and betterment of women.

Today it is one city tomorrow it will the entire nation. Let us be the change, we wish to see. As Helen Keller said, “Alone we can do so little together we can do so much.”

Just a Thought !

 

At the end its a matter of perception, what you see as melancholic may not necessary be melancholy but just the absence of joy !

-Fatima

P.S: This pic is taken from

http://www.facebook.com/#!/photo.php?fbid=1812120873436&set=a.1810210905688.103015.1552442234&theater