394 and beyond

Today is June 12, 2015. Exactly on this day last year, UPSC released the rank list of the people who had cleared their year-long grueling process called the Civil Services Examination. It was the culmination of many months of preparation and hardwork for many, including myself. Thankfully in last year’s list my name featured at rank number 394. 

It all started on one ordinary night during a Facebook chat with Umesh Kesavan, the then Chairman of my college’s Student Union. We were in our 3^rd year of college awaiting our campus placements. Umesh, being Umesh, chose not to sit for placements and was preparing for the Civil services. The chat veered on to the government and the state of the nation, what we so often call as the ‘system’ and I, being myself, was bitching about it – this is not right, that is not good, we need change, this, that and so many other things. Umesh asked me a simple question – “If you are complaining so much about the system then what are you going to do about it? Why don’t you join the system?” It seemed like a normal question but it was a minor moment of epiphany for me. This question was a key motivating factor whenever I felt like down and close to out. And, Umesh was the one who called on June 12, 2014 and said that “Dey un paeru list la irukku da. Poi paaru.” (Dude, your name is in the list. Go check now). Thank you Umesh.

Now when I look back, there have been so many people who have helped me in this long journey. Some are still with me. Some sadly aren’t. Such blog posts are nothing but mere words. They won’t suffice in expressing my gratitude to many people - my parents who shifted to Chennai just for helping me in my preparation; to my brother Raghavendar who has been elated and joyous more than anyone whenever something good has happened in my life (this 394 was for you da); to Prabhakaran sir and Sangeetha akka who believed (and still do) in me more than myself; to all my friends who have felt proud at whatever I have managed to do.

To be frank, the initial reaction after seeing the rank list was ‘Dammit, this is not what I wanted. This should have been atleast a 100 less. If this is what I can get after such a mammoth effort, then dammit’. Actually, I have been lucky to get this 394. It could have gone wrong at any point of the process, but it didn’t. Had I attempted two questions less, I might have ended up in the 600s. If Mr. A.P. Singh had given me 153 instead of 173 in the interview, I would not have even made it to the final list. Some of my friends who are more well-read than me, who have put in more amount and years of hardwork than me have not made it yet. Now I can say that if ‘394’ is what I can get after such a mammoth effort, then ‘394’ is what I will be in love with all my heart and be thankful for. And ultimately, to quote Thalaivar, the fact remains that, “கெடைக்குறது கெடைக்காம இருக்காது, கெடைக்காம இருக்குறது கெடைக்காது” (What you will get, you won’t miss it; what you won’t get, you will never get it.)

The journey ain’t over yet. There is one last appointment with the folks at UPSC in the afternoon of the 16^th of June. Or maybe it ain’t the last appointment. But this one year including the 6-or-so months as an ‘officer’ has put so many things in perspective. There seems to be a new respect attached to me. Humility is met with surprise and almost as a quality that I shouldn’t possess. You are expected to float in the air and you are told that you now have the right to do so. Being officers is seen as pre-written destiny and we are here to do favours for the rest of the lesser mortals.

The fact that one has landed up in the ‘service’ has come about to define the person. There is also an air of complaint once a person has entered the service. The attitude seems to be that “now that I am in this service already, I deserve a better service”. In our frantic search for the ‘blessedness’ of our service and what we want, we forget what we are already here for.

From what I see, I have only unlocked the doors to a plethora of duties, responsibilities and opportunities. There is a daunting task ahead and miles to go before I will be able to sleep with the satisfaction of actually having done something good. The 2 years, from August 2012 to June 2014, was preparation, not just for the Exam but also for keeping a level-head after the results. This rank/service/post doesn’t define me. It never should and, hopefully, never will. It is just a tag; a temporary appendix.It is those 2 years of struggle that defines me.

Those days when I was 200% sure that I am quitting my job to prepare for the civil services, those joyous moments spent reading the Constitution and Economics, those arguments trying to convince my mom that my dream is here and not in the US, those long nights of despair spent listening to Bharathi's Ninnai Charanadaindhen Kannamma (Ma, I have surrendered to thee) and Ekla Cholo Re, those intense moments of self-doubt when I miraculously found every bit of confidence in me to continue – these are the ones that I cherish and will be proud of. Thinking of all these now, I am amazed at my inner strength and sense of purpose. And, I am sure everyone who has prepared or is preparing for the civil services would have gone through this phase.

Whatever I am now, is because of whatever I did then. And whatever motivated me in these 2 years shall continue to do so in the future. And it is to these 2 years that I shall go back whenever this ‘394’ dares to go from my heart to my head.

Mother's Day lullaby

When you think about Tamil songs on mother, there are numerous ones right from Thaai Illaamal Naan Illai (Adimai Penn; Music: KV Mahadevan) to Amma Amma (Velai Illaa Pattadhaari; Music: Anirudh). Not a surprise for an industry with the Amma sentiment. When you think about Mother songs composed by the Maestro, the ones that come immediately to the mind would be Amma Endrazhaikkaadha (Mannan), Chinna Thaai Aval (Thalapathy) etc.

But strangely this is the song that has been repeatedly ringing in my head today.

To put some context, the song is from the movie ‘Nandalala’ which is a remake of the Korean movie ‘Kikujiro’. It is about a travel of two kids - one mentally challenged in his 30s and one school-going 8-year old. The older one, played by the director Mysskin, had been left in a mental asylum in his childhood by his mother and she never paid him a visit over the years. All the frustration and longing for his mother builds up into anger and his only wish in life is to meet her and give one tight slap for what she had done to him. One fine day, he escapes from the asylum and goes in search of his mom.

Finally Mysskin finds his mom. With all the rage built up over the years, he rushes inside the house only to find his mother chained to a stone in the backyard. As it turns out, the poor mother was unable to overcome her guilt for what she had done to him and confines herself to a life of misery. At this point, the very purpose of Mysskin’s journey turns on its head and he breaks down and cries like a baby. Fate has it that this grown-up mentally disturbed kid now has to become a mother himself and take care of his mom. Tragic and poetic.

And there is an interesting anecdote on how the song was composed. When Mysskin narrated the entire situation to Raaja, the man just sat there with his harmonium for about 15 minutes. And, then he started singing the song WITH the following lyrics spontaneously,

Thaalaattu Ketka Naanum… Ethanai Naal Kaathirundhen

Thaai Unna Kaana Thaanae… Thavichu Naan Oadi Vandhen

Amma Unna Paathaa… Vaartha Varla Maele

Ippo Unna Paathaa… Pachcha Pulla Polae

Thaalaattu Paada Ingae Yaar Aariraaro

“I have been waiting for years to hear my lullaby

I have run across so many miles just to see you, my mother

When I see you my mom, there are no words to speak

I have seen you now and you are a baby yourself

Who should sing a lullaby for whom, now?”

Raaja’s mastery in blending the music with the story can be seen in his use of percussions in the song. After finding his mother in such a miserable state, Mysskin picks her up and carries her with him. And the beats capture this perfectly. The thaalam is akin to footsteps; there is no change in the tempo or anything but the song just travels slowly in the son’s footsteps. Did Mysskin tell him this specfically or the Master himself gave it to him on a platter, we don't know.

The fact that Raaja is an excellent and underrated lyricist is very evident from this song. He nails it especially in these lines

“Is love itself a pain?”

 and

“There were times when I was bound my chains

It is fair that you are bound by your own chains”

The first use of chains refers to how Mysskin was bound in the asylum; the second line refers that his mother was bound by the chains of love to her son. Metaphoraaja!

Everything about this song – the voice, the lyrics, the flute, the cello (?) and violins at the beginning of both the interludes - gives a sense of missing and longing and fills me up with this soothing feeling of pain. This is not the classic mother song like the ‘Amma Endrazhaikkaadha’ which is a son’s flowery ode to his divine mother. This is a lullaby; a lullaby from a son to his mother; a painful lullaby from Raaja for all the sons and daughters who are thousands of kilometres away from home.

Happy Mother’s Day to all those kids and their mothers :)

P.S.: Song lyrics with my translation in the first comment. The translation doesn’t do justice to the words.

Long march to destiny

Within these jails of misery I wait
For my calling that would seal my fate.
It is as certain as the long black night
Yet farther than those stars in sight

Hope is an opium.
It soothes me to sleep
Thinking of the podium
To which I ought to leap.

The Judgement maybe of defeat,
But I'm no firefly to my dream
Never crumbling to my feet
With an iron heart, I shall reign supreme.

Time is now a warfare
Fought with that hope, if any.
Through this sea of despair
Shall be my long march to destiny.

Cruelty to Pullaiyaar

Today is Pullaiyaar’s birthday. In so many cosmic years of the existence of universe, we have conspired in so many ways to ensure that the poor guy remained a bachelor. In some corner of the history, we have given him two wives, Buddhi and Siddhi, but by and large the man's Facebook status will read 'Single'. We have characterised him such that he shall remain so forever.

First of all, making him the “First among the equals” of Gods, we have equated him to the level of Dr. Manmohan Singh. That dubious credit that we gave him is like your Manager praising you at the appraisal meeting but your rating going down like the rupee.

Look at the family background. The parents did a love marriage. This in itself is a non-starter. And the father is one ganja smoking guy who lives in cemetery and all. Only the mother is from a royal family. But then the family is located at the top of a cold mountain. How will the Assistant Systems Engineer girl from TCS, Siruseri relocate there? I mean it is not the USA or London. Tata doesn’t have branches in the Himalayas or Manasarovar as far as I know.

And then there is daddy Shiva’s huge army of ‘Bouncers of the Kailash Club’. These guys will make good helpers during wedding arrangements. But imagine getting Ramraj veshtis for everyone and feeding them. Wedding catering cost will definitely come close to India’s fiscal deficit even if it is only limited meals on the wedding day.

If that is not bad, we devised for him the worst plan to conquer the world – take care of parents and respect them. When Cartoon Network could create greatness like Mojo Jojo, our Vedic scholars and Anant Pai could only manage to create the most un-matrimonial plans of all time. This respect-parents-and-win-the-world will never go well with bride’s family who want the bride to live in a nuclear family which will consist of the Pullaiyaar, the bride, the bride’s father and the bride’s mother.


Our groom Pullaiyaar has no assets on his name. All he got is one small Jerry, the mouse. Even one software engineer with three years experience is buying a Pulsar or a Nano car in EMI. Clearly, owning just a mouse makes Pullaiyaar a laggard in the rat race.

Also, there is this over-achieving younger brother. We've not let Pullaiyaar buy any "Luxury flat/villas @ cheap rates" in Oragadam or Vandaloor. He still languishes in street corners and aala maram shade. The arrogant atypical younger brother put one helluva fight for one transgenic mango fruit. But we have given the younger kid six houses in Tamil Nadu alone; all of them being mountain-side villas. And he owns one language and is the god of handsomeness and all. Shame on you humanity!

This mischievous younger brother has married two girls, one of them being an inter-caste love marriage. Game over for Pullaiyaar’s future. This will definitely send wrong signals to the bride’s family and make them doubt if Pullaiyaar is really “a smart, religious boy coming from a good family with strong cultural values”.

Leave all that. What a cruel joke we have made for his body! We mercilessly gave him a Zlatan-Ibrahimovician nose with Bappi Lahiri’s body. The belly makes him look like a casual drinker of two beers a day. This physique is accepted only for an Amerikka maappillai working in Google and having own house in the US of A. Not for some guy from the town of Pillaiyaarpatti and all.

Pullaiyaar is a nerd only, agreed. He won’t go to gym and all. But he has been the scribe of one big poetry book about the real “Game of Throne”. As a repayment, we've could have at least invented one good Sauna Belt for his disproportionate belly. Instead today we force feed him varieties of ghee soaked kozhukkattais and make his matrimony picture even more bloated.

Cha. How cruel have we been to the poor Pullaiyaar!

P.S.: Random thoughts. Not to hurt the sentiments of Pullaiyaar lovers like Velu Naicker and Bashaa bhai.

June 12: World Day against Child Labour

I build my house with the bricks you make.

I eat food in the dishes you clean.

I know the world through the newspaper you deliver.

I flaunt myself in the clothes you iron.

I go to hotels where you clean the tables.

I buy any vehicle knowing you can repair them all.

I stop at signals only to find you begging.

I vanquish darkness with the matchsticks you gave.

I bat an eyelid and off you go, trafficked.

Come every June 12, it is the day to abolish you.

Will you make me one more cracker so that I can celebrate the occasion?

Who is this Thillaiyaadi Valliyammaa?

If you prefer to read it in Tamil, go here.

Kuruvi (Sparrow) – Though the script had scope in showing the plight of the couriers who take things from India to Malaysia and other South East Asian countries and the pitiful state of the bonded labourers in the stone quarries, this was a movie which was loyal in displaying Actor Vijay’s daredevil stunts which even his fans began to ridicule. This is not a review of the movie. In a society where the real Sparrows are near extinct and Bharathi’s Sparrows as the embodiment of freedom have been forgotten, the only Kuruvi that we are left with might be this one. Sadly, though.

The movie has a song ‘Mozha Mozhannu Yammaa Yammaa’. They are non lexicals. So don’t bother about the translation.

The lines at around 00:40 are

'Thillaiyaadi Valliyammaa             Thillaiyaadi Valliyammaa 
Dhill irundhaa nilladimmaa           Stop if you have the guts 
Thillaalangadi aaduvomaa            Shall we dance to the shenanigans? 
Thiruttuthanam pannuvomaa’       Shall we do some mischief?

Intrigued and wanting to know what this Thillaiyaadi Valliyamma had actually done to be honoured with a line in actor Vijay’s song, I did some research.

Munusamy-Janaki was a weaver couple living in Thillaiyaadi which is in today’s Nagappattinam district, Tamil Nadu. The textile industry had crash landed and they moved to South Africa in search of labour through agents. Munusamy opened a small eatery in Johannesburg. Valliyammaa was born on February 28, 1898. Indians were treated very badly in South Africa then. They were bonded labourers; they could not raise their finger against any injustice meted out to them; they could not switch masters; they were humiliated everywhere; they had no voting rights; they could not travel together with the whites; they were not treated as humans irrespective of their educational qualification. They lived in slums. On 14-3-1913 a law was passed stating that ‘any marriage not according to the Church would be declared null and void.’ This meant legal Hindu marriages would be nullified and the wife would lose her status and be relegated to a concubine.

M.K. Gandhi protested against this and the women gathered behind Kasturi Bai. Valliyammaa and her mother Janaki joined the protests. On 29-10-1913 the women started their march from Johannesburg. When they were about to enter Natal, they were arrested at Volksrust on 22-12-1913 and were sentenced to three months of rigorous imprisonment. Valliyammaa was 15. She refused to pay the bail amount and languished in prison. As her health deteriorated, she was released on 11-2-1914 before completing her full sentence. She was only bones when she was out of prison and had to be covered in a rug and carried home. She died 11 days later on 22-2-1914.

She heard someone tell, “Why don’t you people register and become South Africans instead? Indians! India doesn’t even have a flag! What are you really fighting for?”

 

She replied, “If having a flag is what would give form to India, then here it is”, she said, tearing off her sari and waved it triumphantly, “MY FLAG! MY MOTHERLAND!” It is said that the sari that she tore was saffron-white-green colored and hence most of the flags of the Indian Independence movement were based on these three colors. And the trend applies to the Indian National Flag too.

Once during the protests when a white soldier aimed his gun at Gandhi, Valliyammaa came in the middle and dared the soldier to shoot.

Gandhi met her and asked, “Do you not regret having been to jail? Look at you!”

“If going back to jail again would add to the cause, I would do it again”, she replied.

Gandhi wrote in ‘Indian Opinion’, “We have lost one of the true daughters of India. She did her duty without any questions. She was the embodiment of a true woman’s qualities like patience and self respect. Her sacrifice will not go in vain. The loss of Valliammai would perhaps affect me more than that of my elder brother Lakshmidass. It is said when Gandhi later visited Thillaiyaadi, he touched the soil of the village and sought blessings.

A girl. Not even a lady. A 15 year old girl. Though she had never visited her homeland, she fought for it. We were complaining about our class X exams being tough when we were 15. She was in prison when she was 15. When we were fighting with adolescence, she was fighting against oppression.

This girl’s name has been used in the most derogatory manner by the Tamil cine industry.  But then it is stupid to expect something better from an industry which has used the words “Puratchi” (Revolution) and “Thalapathy (Leader/General) with utmost contempt.

‘Viththaga Kavignar’ Pa. Vijay (Viththaga Kavignar = Artistic Poet) penned the lyrics for this song. What kind of stupid art is this? For a lame reason that he wanted a line which started as ‘thi’ and ended as ‘maa’ he has used ‘Thillaiyaadi Valliyammaa’. It seems fair to infer that since he used her name, he should have had some basic knowledge about who Valliyammaa was.

Not even an ounce of thought that she was a 15 year old.

No respect for the life she lived.

No second thoughts about the context of the song in which her name is used.

Can anyone’s named be used if Vijay wants ‘to do some mischief’ with Trisha? Though the poet writes only for money, if a writer is irresponsible then will the society stay sane?

The censor board is a nincompoop, as it is always in such cases. The line has been changed to “Thillumullu Valliyammaa” (Thillumullu = Deceptive in the song’s context). Though it is heartening to see that it has been censored, it becomes useless as the song is released atleast 2 months before the movie. So the original lyrics will stay in the minds and the change might even go unnoticed. Here it is Thillaiyaadi Valliyammaa and here it is Thillumullu Valliyammaa.

At a time when we are satisfied that we have honoured our nation’s heroes with changing our Facebook profile pictures, updating, sharing, liking and sharing statuses, this is an utter shame to us. Think.

What are we celebrating on March 8th?

I find it very hypocritical to celebrate a day as Women’s Day. Though I don’t want to venture into the argument of discriminating the women in a way by allotting a day for them, I can’t come to terms with the fact that we dare celebrate the women of our world in such a male hegemonic society. Yes, women have made progress, but we never feel ashamed that the society has been so unjust to women for so long that they actually have to claim their rights and make progress. Another alarming fact is that we never discover the subtle male dominance in every aspect of our life in the so called educated society. We have always had the woman ‘behind’ every successful man. Have we done enough for her to come out to the front?

There is an innate anti-female bias in our families. They are authoritative with the male at the helm. Our children are born and brought up in these male dominant families and it is but natural that this is deep rooted in their minds. A child immediately recognizes that the father is educated better and earns more than the mother; if at all the mother works. Even when we have improved the educational standards of the society, I don’t see any boy marrying a girl who is better educated and earns more than him. Only few girls are allowed to think of studies after their marriage. Once married, the girl is pulled out of her career and the doors are forever shut. One live example is my mother. She learnt veena among various other things before her marriage but the only testimony to her musical learning is her broken veena in our loft. The broken veena is not just an instrument but is actually my mother’s musical talent and dreams. She symbolizes Bharathi’s words “நல்லதோர் வீணை செய்தே அதை நலங்கெட புழுதியில் எறிவதுண்டோ?” (Is it fair to create a beautiful veena and then throw it away in the gutter?) She is not a victim of the society of the past as I see classmates and friends facing similar future. One of my friends (B.Tech) who has just celebrated her first anniversary has been asked to write the bank exam and satisfy her mother-in-law’s traditional expectation of “blessing her with a grandchild”. She quit her first job for her marriage and is now resisted by her otherwise sweet mother-in-law from taking up a job again. Another friend has been awaiting her marriage plans for the past 6 months after college. In her case, B.E. degree is just a status symbol for the family. With these atrocious families in majority percentage in our midst, whose lives are we celebrating on this symbolic day?

The sadder part is that a woman is forced to give up her career for the very reason she is glorified so much in the society – motherhood. While I understand there are practical and maternal difficulties in simultaneously continuing in a job and raising an infant, what we forget is that there is never an attempt to tackle the situation. Motherhood becomes an automatic qualification for a woman to bid farewell to her career; a woman is taught to believe this and there are no second thoughts. Once she is a mother, she has to bury her dreams and ambitions for the sake of the kids. I wonder if the men do any career-ending sacrifices for the kids. I don’t see it changing radically in our future society but there is hope as many young educated men have understood their part in raising a kid and running a family.

The trend continues in love marriages too. They pose an extra challenge for the girl. If a girl marries into another caste, she is supposed to change herself entirely to suit the boy’s caste. A girl marries a Brahmin boy and she has to give up her non-vegetarian diet for the boy’s family if not for him. A boy marries a Brahmin girl and she has to start to adapt if not exercise a non vegetarian diet. The caste I mentioned is just an example. The rule is the same in the inter-religion marriages where the resultant religion will be the boy’s religion. It is rare when the boy ‘sacrifices’ his religious or caste customs for the girl. They always agree upon the boy’s caste/religion.

A bold girl is considered an aberration as is a timid boy. The qualities of boldness, candidness and courage are considered to be of the male entities of the family. Even today’s cuss words are never directed at a boy but always at his mother or sister. We have ‘bitches’ (all female kind) and ‘sons of bitches’ (all male kind) but no ‘dogs’ and ‘daughters of dogs’. The same holds in Tamil too though I don’t wish to educate upon Tamil swear words. Does anyone shut their mouth or swear by a masculine term atleast on March 8^th?

I might exaggerate but I really think the FM radios would be at a loss for songs for Women’s Day jingles if not for the sole Kaadhal Desam song. Such is the pathetic representation of women in our Tamil movie industry (I have no idea about others). They are stereotyped, cornered, abused and sometimes treated no less than prostitutes. We have accepted them to be stereotyped in item songs. We have accepted songs which ask to beat up the girl (Kaadhal en kaadhal from Mayakkam Enna) and the ones in which the lead openly calls the girl for something close to prostitution (“ஒன் டே மட்டும் கேர்ள்பிரெண்டாக வரியா? – Will you be my girlfriend just for a day?”).

But then we have our sacrosanct male movie idols who have acted with the same girl as his daughter, lady love and a non-descript friend’s wife. An actress can never think of getting the same roles after her marriage. I believe the audience doesn’t accept this because deep down every man fantasizes the female lead on screen as his own female partner. After her marriage the mind can’t come to terms with continuing the fantasy. Also, she is required to be the perfect Tamil girl upholding the Tamil culture in the scenes and then strip to a bikini for the song sequences. Though we have moved on from times when the girl does not even shake hands with the lead for the preservation of our culture, still the girl falls in love with boy when he lifts her for the first time. Even the richest girl falls in love with the poorest boy; particularly when he has just then helped a blind man by buying pens from him. But love failures are always the girl’s fault. It is always the girl who dumps the innocent boy. Then the kolaveried boy sings to beat up the girl. The industry itself has very less number of women in the technical department of a movie such as composing, lyric writing, stunts, cinematography, editing, direction, etc. They are reduced to actresses, dancers, singers and all those glamorous portions.

The TV industry is no less a culprit. There is not a single ad for branded perfume, deodorant, shaving razor, shaving cream, bike, soap, clothes, shoes that doesn’t say women fall at the moment they see you using the product. And there is always the girl glued to the guy and proving the smoothness of the shaved cheek or the odour of the perfume. This insults both the women and the morals of the men who buy them. If trusting a lemon for the smooth functioning of a car is an insult to the engineer, then launching the same car with a skimpily-clad size-zero model is an insult to the customers. The business elite seem to need women to entice the customers into buying any consumer product.

The nation provides a similar picture. While there are female political leaders, the ratio is less and the reasons in many cases are abysmal. We have had independent female CMs like Jayalalitha, Sheila Dikshit, Mamata Banerjee, Mayawati but still we have the Sonia Gandhis and Rabri Devis. It is highly unlikely that either of them would have entered politics if not for their husband’s fall. There are Sushma Swaraj, Brinda Karat, Jayanthi Natarajan and others in the larger political picture but the local scene provides an opposite picture. My area councilor is a girl in early twenties. She was the daughter of the area politician. She was the candidate as her mother lost in the previous elections. Clearly she is her father’s benami. So where is the women empowerment that we celebrate on March 8^th? The Women’s Reservation Bill will give rise to more wives and daughters becoming benamis of the political ambitions of the men in the family than true independent female leaders. It is quite early to decide but the above mentioned female CMs may not have a female successor. Apart from Sushma Swaraj, the only female political successors that I can think of are Kanimozhi and Priyanka Vadra. Sigh.

According to unofficial estimates, nearly 2500 cases of female infanticide take place in Rajasthan every day. According to the 2011 census, the child sex ratio is 914 female against 1,000 male - the lowest since Independence. According to India’s then Home Secretary Mr. GK Pillai, "Whatever measures that have been put in over the last 40 years have not had any impact on the child sex ratio." Do my wishes go to all those girl babies killed?

In our Mother India, as late as January 2012 there have been news reports of girls even at the age of 2 being raped by men. What are we celebrating on March 8^th?

Every year hundreds of girls below the age of fifteen are trafficked from the eastern parts of India, raped at Kolkata and then sold in the brothels of Mumbai. This is an organized industry in India. I don’t know how the society looks at men who visit brothels. But the women who are forced into prostitution are seen as immoral piece of filth and not as victims. What change is March 8^th going to do to their lives?

(Source: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4q0ScTthEug)

All over the world women are being discriminated and become targets in war zones. Do we celebrate their miserable lives on this day?

This post might be termed negative, cynical. Yes it might be. But it is painful to see so many holes in the mind, family and system and yet brag about women equality and empowerment.

I prefer not to celebrate Women’s Day. I would rather think.