Merry Christmas! Because I'm suffering from boredom, I decided to talk about myself. To start out small, I love ice cream and chocolates. I hate marzipan. I love stories and literature and I detest physics. I love the sun on my face on a cold winter day and I hate the painful city traffic. I love British and Irish accents and I loathe mumbling. I love goofiness, but not to the extent of stupidity. I love wearing shorts and I dislike anything that itches or makes me feel suffocated. I adore sunflowers because of the story behind it and I hate it when I see people plucking flowers from someone else's garden. If I could, I would get a dog, preferably a husky, because they're absolutely adorable, or even a St. Bernard! I loathe cats because they freak me out with their staring and hissing. I love James McAvoy and Colin O'Donoghue mainly because of their accents (their fantastic good looks help too!). I hate Twilight and Fifty Shades of Grey. I'm a die hard romantic and I passionately hate something if it ends sadly (watch out for loads of ranting). Also, I love to rant. I hate to speak on stage. I love watching movies, both Bollywood and Hollywood and I also watch way too many TV shows for my own good. I have a tendency to fantasise a lot. I'm off in my own world when alone. I dislike confrontation, but I know its necessary. I love to gossip and I hate silly see-through excuses. When I'm alone in my room, I play my music and dance like nobody's watching, because, well, they aren't. I'm also a wimp and I cower under my blanket if I happen to watch a horror movie (that's a genre I hate).
I blush a lot, especially when someone compliments me and I hate it when someone calls me fat or stupid. I love food, especially non-vegetarian. I don't like food that has a lot of ghee. I hate exercise, but I love the way I look when I do. I feel self-conscious when everyone's eyes are on me. I love writing and I'm not a great fan of criticism. Oh, oh! I also live in the area where Milkha Singh once ran. Some claim to fame, right?
Wow, I can't think of anymore. I sound so self-centered, don't I? I really had to think during this one. But well, what does one do when bored? Probably not this, I know.
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Thursday, 25 December 2014
Me, Me and Me. Sorry About That.
Tuesday, 23 December 2014
Finding Your Inner Crazy
We don't even stop to acknowledge the fact that our work, whatever it may be, hasn't been compared to the We believe we are the best. Us aspiring writers fancy ourselves the next J.R.R. Tolkien or J.K. Rowling. The aspiring photographers fancy themselves the next big thing. The aspiring dancers imagine they're the next sensation to take the stage by storm. The singers hope to achieve the fame that Kishore Kumar and Lata Mangeshkar did and the bands want to be The Beatles. And that's good. It's great that all of us have such high expectations of ourselves. What we have to ensure is that those aims of ours aren't lofty and beyond our reach. All of us start out aiming for the stars and beyond. Most of us crash and burn. As much as we hate to admit it, all of us can't be great. So, my question to you is, are you going to risk crashing and burning to go after something you love? Do you really love it? Or do you give up and choose the more traditional route and become part of the mundane but practical workforce? That's the real test, isn't it? Being crazy enough to jump off the deep end? This new year, let's search within and find the crazy that all of us have tried to hide within ourselves and attempted to stamp into oblivion. It's nice to be crazy sometimes.
Monday, 22 December 2014
The End of 2014. Well, Almost.
2014 is coming to a close. Its not been a great year. What with MH370 vanishing into thin air; another Malaysian Airlines flight getting shot down in Ukraine; the crisis in Ukraine; Boko Haram abducting schoolgirls in Nigeria; the death of Robin Williams; the outbreak of the Ebola virus; the terror that ISIS spread around the world with their executions of journalists and aide workers; the Israel-Palestine conflict; the Ferguson shooting and the violence that followed; the protests in Hong Kong; the gang rape and murder of two teenage girls from a village in Uttar Pradesh; the cowards who didn't have the courage to stand up for the two sisters in a bus in Rohtak; the ferry that capsized in South Korea; the 20 year old girl who was gang raped by 12 people on the orders of the head of the village and of course, the most recent massacre of children in Peshawar.
It hasn't been a good year for the world. Of course, there were some moments of joy, moments of happiness; moments of humanity. Narendra Modi was elected Prime Minister of India. The social experiment in Canada after the attack on Parliament hill in Ottawa. Kailash Satyarthi and Malala Yousafzai receiving the Nobel Peace Prize. There have been moments when the times didn't seem so bleak. But they are bleak, aren't they? As much as we would like to live in our pretty little homes with the outside world shut out so that we can never get hurt, it's getting to be quite impossible. Terror is everywhere. Evil is everywhere. Tragedy lurks in every corner. But we ignore it. We're content in our little bubbles. Those bubbles were meant to pop. And when they do, you fall hard.
But how can one ignore the events of 16th December? How can one pretend not to shudder at the evil that lurks in the hearts of mankind? How can one's heart not be filled with sympathy for those parents who lost their innocent children at the hands of the Taliban? However much we can compartmentalise and avoid, nobody could ignore this. This unspeakable act of violence. Innocent children. They'd barely lived. They hadn't seen the world. They were bright-eyed, little boys and girls just waiting to grow up. And that was taken away from them. Even the ones who weren't killed have to live with the violence that they witnessed. They took away their childhood. The monsters stole their innocence. WHAT HAS THE WORLD COME TO? So much violence, so much grief, so much...
There's a little more than a week left for the year to end. Here's to a better, safer and a more humane 2015.
Thursday, 11 December 2014
Knowing What To Say
When speaking to others, there are things that you can say and things that you can't. For example, you never ask a girl that's been recently jilted at the altar about her love life. Then why can't some people keep a zip on their mouths?
Our mouths are like DVD players. Sometimes you have to pause; sometimes you have to rewind; and sometimes you change the track. And like all DVD players, ours' need servicing as well. Some don't stop. Some don't start. Some stop abruptly between dialogue and some actually do the opposite of what you want them to.
All of us have made a faux pas more than once. We're only human. However, there are those of us who make such errors everyday, not realising the effect it has on the person we're saying it to. I wonder why they don't teach us etiquette at school. Is it something that we're expected to be naturally endowed with? Because most of us aren't. We can say the worst things at the worst times and not even realise it. There are different ways of talking to people. Politely, confrontationally, warmly, coldly, aggressively and of course passive aggressively. Passive aggression is something all of us have experienced and we've probably used it on others without thinking. The thing about passive aggression is you really don't know how to respond without sounding like you're blowing things out of proportion. Passive aggression is ugly. It can be snide, laced with malice; its a thinly veiled insult. And it usually pops up out of nowhere. It fascinates me. What could possibly prompt someone to say something like that? What are our deepest thoughts? Why are we all capable of such darkness? Passive aggression is just our way of letting out something that we've been steaming over. Its a subconscious reaction. Always at the back of our head. Like a little imp, making mischief and is never found at the scene of the crime.
There are always things to be said. There is always a time for them. There also things that needn't be said-they may not be true, or they may be completely apparent. And the trick is to know when to say what and what not to say at all. Not an easy trick, I suppose.
Saturday, 29 November 2014
The Cliches We So Easily Fall Into
The easiest thing to do in the world is to fall into a stereotype. Its easy to be what everyone thinks you are. Being the younger sister, people naturally assume I'll be the spoilt and pampered one. Also, I'll probably be the rebel-trying to be as different as I can from my elder, wiser sibling.
We look to clichés because clichés are comfortable. They're familiar. They're easy to understand. Its easier to understand people when you can compartmentalise them into little boxes. The pretty one, the aggressive one, the smart one, the rebellious one, the gentle one. Facets are hard to comprehend. Its simpler to think of the intelligent girl as the one who studies all the time. When that probably isn't true. She most certainly will have a life that is beyond her books.
So, instead of compartmentalising people, why don't we take the time to get to know them? Their likes, their dislikes, their habits, their quirks. Why don't we take the time to form our opinion, instead of making assumptions?
And why do we compartmentalise ourselves? Why do I, the younger one, have to be the irresponsible one? Why does my sister have to be the model student? Why does a stay-at-home mom have to portrayed as harrowed and running after her children (Mrs. Weasley comes to mind)? Why does the businessman have to be stiff and stodgy? Why does the artist have to be broody? Why? Why don't we break these stereotypes? To be who we want to be? Why do we restrict ourselves to a path? There's time yet for us to grow up. And when we do choose, we choose on our terms. Why shouldn't I be ambitious, yet playful? Why shouldn't a businessman play football with the juniors? Why should the smart girl always have her nose in her book? Why shouldn't the sporty guy also be equally intelligent?
We are who we let ourselves be. If I decide that I am worthless and I'm not going to amount to anything, its a self fulfilling prophecy. I HAVE to believe that I am capable of more. Sure, I may not be lucky enough to give a speech on TED, but I need to have faith in my skills, in my talent. We all do. Its the first step to achievement.
Wednesday, 26 November 2014
Wanderlust
The one thing dictionaries do is that they make everything boring. They make every word sound boring. It's like a robot talking mechanically. Here is one-
"Travel is the movement of people between relatively distant geographical locations, and can involve travel by foot, bicycle, automobile, train, boat, airplane, or other means, with or without luggage, and can be one way or round trip. Travel can also include relatively short stays between successive movements."
How lovely. It's like going to Paris and saying, "I flew to Paris. I saw the river Seine. I saw the Eiffel Tower. I saw the Louvre. I ate macaroons. I came back." It completely diminishes the taste and beauty of travel. Travel isn't just about checking tourist attractions off a list. It's about trying the local food-even if you end up not liking it. It's about sitting in one place and just cherishing where you are and whom you're with. It's about learning a new culture, so different from your own, yet you find something to identify with. The desire to travel is wanderlust. What a beautiful word for a beautiful experience. So, I have an endless list of places I want to go to. And I know that I probably might never get to see all of them. And I also know that the list has just begun. And part of the allure of travel is the endless possibilities of where you could go. It's about dreaming a dream with someone you care about. It's about making memories. Whether it's where you go. Or whether its the plans you make that may not see the light of day. It's about stories. It's about opening your eyes to the unknown. It's wanderlust...
Wednesday, 19 November 2014
Fighting Inner Demons
It never takes much to annoy me. In fact, its actually quite simple to get me all riled up. Call me fat, call me dumb or just be indecisive. Its not a fantastic trait to have, I know. I'll probably get nowhere if I put that on my resume.
My mom says I should meditate to get rid of all that negative energy that I have bottled up inside of me. Because when I'm annoyed, I 'radiate' negativity and basically repel anyone in sight. The ones who come close enough usually end up getting scorched. So, I sat down today, thinking, "I haven't written in a really long time! God that's annoying!" And my thoughts randomly reach a point where I begin to wonder why I was even thinking about it.
Today, I thought about why I get annoyed so easily. And no, I couldn't come up with a solution. If only life was a cakewalk, my friends. But I do have a theory. I think I get annoyed so easily because I'm more annoyed with myself than with anyone else and I have the selfish tendency of projecting it on others. Quite unfair, isn't it? But how does one get rid of the feeling of being annoyed with oneself? However minor your inner demons maybe. It could be the inability to learn a skill that everyone else seems to be doing with aplomb. It could be not being able to lose those few extra kilos. It could be anything. How does one battle oneself? I don't think there's a right answer to that. We just have to suck it up and take it one day at a time. Swallow the nasty remarks that are at the tip of your tongue. Smile away the frown. Take the anger away with a few deep breaths. Do it meticulously until it becomes second nature.
And, I know my post was probably repetitive. But I just heard my mom talking about rebellion in teenagers. And my tendency to start either screaming or weeping when I feel cornered. God. I just realised how much of a wuss I am. I'd want to give myself a good shake too if I was in her place. But, I promise my next post will be better!
Thursday, 23 October 2014
A Letter To Oneself
Hey! You there in the mirror! Who are you? You sure look like me, but you don't seem insecure. You look confident. You don't look like you're worried about the little flab you have around your waist. You look like a girl who knows she's attractive, not one who wants to slip back into your shorts and baggy t-shirts
Its a scary world out there, you know? Full of treachery and heartbreak. You'll find happiness, you'll find friends, but you will also find betrayal and pain. Don't let that ruin your smile. Don't let that silence your laugh. Your eyes that sparkle with hope and promise of what might be waiting for you; don't let them dim. Don't pay any heed to people who try to make you feel bad about yourself, about your body, about your mind. Remember, you can't be made to feel inferior without your consent. Eleanor Roosevelt said that. And don't you ever forget that.
No one knows you the way you know yourself. And always remember to love yourself. Stroke your ego a little. It never harmed anybody. Don't forget to smile. Cry too, but most of the time, smile. So remember, keep your eyes sparkling, your smile bright and your laugh contagious.
Tuesday, 14 October 2014
The Girl Who Never Wanted To Grow Up
Whereas, being a kid is amazing. Sure, you do have to follow some rules, but most of the time you're allowed to run free. When you screw up, its okay; you're just a kid and you'll learn one day. When you're a kid, you don't realise how lucky you are. You're always complaining about some restriction or the other. What kids don't get is, adults have way more restrictions and responsibilities than we do. They can't up and run for the hills when the going gets hard. They have to stick around and fight the battle. When you're an adult, you can't walk away from your family, from your job. All of a sudden, its not just about YOU. Its about everyone in your immediate circle. You're no longer allowed to make severe mistakes. You're no longer allowed to throw tantrums and create scenes without looking like a complete moron.
I wish I could be like Peter Pan. I would be the girl who never wanted to grow up. I can't seem to think of a name for myself. But Neverland seems like a nice place to live. And if I never grow up I'll never have to worry about grown up things. Its like we shed our carefree selves once we enter the world of adults. The worry becomes second skin. Whether its worry about how you're doing your job, or its worry about how your child is doing in school, the problems are endless. Worrying is part of being an adult. I guess its because the adults worry on behalf of the kids. They take on the children's share of worry so that the kids can have the time of their lives. Mighty kind of them, isn't it? But then, they are the adults.
Friday, 10 October 2014
Demanding To Be Felt
Giving into these emotions isn't weakness. Shedding tears over someone else's tragedy isn't stupidity, it's compassion. It's a sign that there is hope for us still. In a book I'm reading,'The Inheritance of Loss', the protagonist while pondering, rhetorically asks herself if fulfillment could ever be felt as deeply as loss. Our ability to feel loss is a prerequisite for our ability to feel happiness. Because, how does one know what happiness is if they haven't experienced pain and loss in one way or another? How does one know the exquisite pleasure of a good long laugh, if they haven't wept until no more tears will come out? How does one understand the true meaning of friendship, if they haven't felt the sear of betrayal? Without pain,there isn't understanding. We bond over pain; over grief. It binds people together, doesn't alienate them. With pain, we sometimes find grit and courage. The grit to see it the whole way through and the courage to get back up even if it feels like the walls are closing in on you. Pain and loss doesn't change you, it reveals who you really are. It's a test of your character, of your humanity. You can either give up all hope and call it a day, or you can show your strength in times of adversity. We're all built tougher than we think. We just have to look within. If there truly is a God, I highly doubt he would give us more pain and loss than we could possibly bear. You can't run from pain and loss, it'll catch up. Nor can you succumb to it. You have to accept it. Treat it as part of yourself; just as the good memories are a part of you, so are the bad. John Green said that pain demands to be felt. It scorches, but it eventually heals. Pain is what makes us who we are. Pain is what invites compassion and redemption. Pain is almost like a universal language. All of us can identify with it. It unites us.
Sunday, 28 September 2014
Speak Now
The problem usually starts out small. Perhaps, with something someone said.They probably didn't mean any harm and the matter could be solved in a matter of minutes and that would be it. But the matter isn't resolved and it stays at the back of your head like a parasite, gnawing at your happiness and peace of mind. And before you know it, you can't take it anymore and you let all that pent-up anger out. Instead of resolving things, it just makes things worse. Because the issues that seemed like everything, suddenly seem frivolous. Instead of feeling relieved that you got it all out, you feel empty.
Holding on to a grudge helps no one. It just makes you lonely. And no one likes being lonely. So, what I intended on saying through this post was that holding on to anger and resentment has never turned out good for anybody. Live for the moment. Don't let silly problems hold you back. Confront them as soon as you meet them, don't duck for cover. Speaking up for yourself is a sign that you respect yourself. Don't get walked all over. If you want to make people happy, do it. But don't do it at the risk of your unhappiness. You're not an inanimate object with no feelings and don't you dare let anyone treat you like that. You don't want to spend your life pandering to someone else's demands, while yours can go to hell. It's a choice you make. And only you can make it. You can't blame the rest of the world for the fact that you're a self-pitying spineless fool who can't defend himself/herself. So, make the right choice. Life is too short for anything else. Speak now. The world is a more accepting place than you think. Don't be afraid to voice what you feel. When you love something, say it. When you're upset or angry, say it. You have no idea how much of a difference it can make.
Friday, 26 September 2014
Waiting For The One
But then I thought, the hopeless romantic that I am, I've never been in love either. The irony.
I'm in love with the idea of falling in love. And frankly, I've never met anyone who makes me feel that way. Giddy with happiness. Butterflies in my stomach. I imagine myself dancing the night away with a faceless person. Nobody has managed to become that face as yet. And I'm happy about that. I'm still a kid in many ways. I have my temper tantrums. It takes little to annoy me. The overdramatizing of trivial problems between the boy and the girl baffle me. The little mind games my gender sometimes play disturb me. When I fall in love; real love, not a character on a show or in a novel; I want it to be real. I don't want to have to feel a compulsion to keep him on a short leash, like he's a dog and not my boyfriend. I believe that when it's right, it'll feel right. Everything won't magically fall into place-there will be bumps along the way, but it will be magical. And a writer once said,"You don't love because, you love in spite ". However crazy I might be sounding, I want someone to love me with all my flaws, because I don't believe anyone can truly be in love if there isn't complete and utter acceptance of the object of affection. I don't need someone to enumerate the things they love about me. I need someone who will still love me even when I'm, as my mom so aptly puts it, shrieking like a banshee.
It'll happen when it'll happen. To sound completely cliche, the stars might just align themselves one day, and my life might never be the same. I sincerely hope my mom doesn't make a big deal out of this. I can already hear her laughing at my idealistic and mostly corny view of things.
Sunday, 21 September 2014
A Shout Into The Void
The Allure Of The Prince Of Darkness
Satan is almost Shakespearean. And Milton seems to be, literally, the Devil's advocate. I call him Shakespearean because he can be compared to some of Shakespeare's greatest characters-Macbeth, Hamlet, Caesar, Othello. All good men, possibly great-but with one fatal flaw that unravels everything. Satan just started believing that he was greater than God and deserved his throne. And being considered one of the most beautiful angels and being closest to God, it is kind of an insult when God calls a mere mortal his son. It's the age-old emotions in play here-anger and envy. All of us feel it. Usually together. You'd think celestial beings would be above all this, but that just shows, emotions aren't restricted to mortality.
Satan is the ultimate bad boy. He knows just what to say to pluck at the strings of your heart. He's like the villain you can't hate. You know he's evil, you know he's wrong and yet you still root for him. Milton manages to tempt and seduce the readers into feeling sorry for Satan. Some say it's his way of tricking the readers. Much like how Satan tempted Eve into eating the forbidden fruit. He re-enacted the 'Fall', showing that we are, at our very core, the same. Basically, we aren't much smarter now. We still give into temptation. The allure of the dark and the forbidden is just too irresistible to hold back. The best of us have given in. Hey, Satan, or rather Lucifer, couldn't control his thirst for power and that's what landed him in Hell. And he was an archangel. He was supposed to be an embodiment of goodness. We're humans. How much can you expect from us?
So, the good can definitely be boring. And the bad can be so incredibly attractive. However, at the end of the day, we have to choose the good. Because how much ever the dark tempts us, it's going to lead us off a cliff, figuratively and sometimes literally. But then, being just a tad bit bad never hurt anybody. You're only young once, right?
A Portal To Different Worlds
Monday, 8 September 2014
Dark is Beautiful
Beauty can't be determined by just the colour of your skin. You could be the fairest of all and yet, still not be beautiful. And fairness isn't just considered a prerequisite for beauty; it's also a prerequisite for success. How can brands like Fair & Lovely and Fair & Handsome send messages to the people that using the cream gives you "the power to shape your destiny"; and fame and fortune. Only you can determine that. Not some silly cream, that probably doesn't work. And since when does being fair and lovely and fair and handsome go hand in hand? Loveliness is something that comes from nurturing, from good values, from a kind heart. And handsome? Well, isn't Matthew McConaughey the sexiest man alive? And how many of us have dreamed of a tall, dark and handsome hunk sweeping us off our feet?
I understand wanting to look the best you possibly can. I do. What I don't understand is, completely changing the way you look. Do you really hate yourself that much? Or do you really think that everyone will look past you just because of the colour of your skin?
Some of us have to learn to love ourselves. For others, it comes easy. If you don't love yourself, how can you ever expect to be loved? We were meant to be this way. Why would we want to change that? It isn't easy, I know. When you're surrounded by advertisements that tell you that fair skin is gorgeous, you're bound to look in the mirror and feel inadequate about yourself. The "seduction of inadequacy" is too hard to resist. I take that phrase from Lupita N'yongo's speech. But why should we let a billboard or some brand tell us that we aren't good enough? We all come out perfect into the world. Not caring about colour, about size. We can be the best versions of ourselves, we can't be someone else. We're only deceiving ourselves at the end of the day. Believe in yourself, in your talent. All of us are meant for something. And we shouldn't go screwing it up by obsessing over something like the colour of our skin.
Saturday, 6 September 2014
A Futile Search For Inspiration
The thing is, I don't get it myself. I don't get what inspires me. It's almost as though it comes from within. It's a reaction to something, to someone. It could be someone you know or a total stranger. It could be a song, it could be something someone said; heck, it could be food! It's something that no dictionary can describe. That feeling? Of the words flowing, of the paintbrush moving? It's poetic, almost. You'll never actually see it, but you do feel it. You feel it when you read a beautiful story, when you see the works of an artist.
I've read some of the "inspiring" quotes that are online, and frankly, they really don't inspire me. Stories inspire me. TED talks inspire me. Some movies inspire me; The Blind Side, for one. Elizabeth Gilbert, in one of her TED speeches, called her inspiration the 'elusive creative genius'. She said that people once considered works of art and beauty, almost divine. So divine, that us mere mortals couldn't come up with it. There had to be some divine or supernatural intervention of some sort. She also said that treating creativity like that takes off the pressure. Because, if you screw up or produce something mediocre, it really isn't all your fault. Also, you don't act like a smug shmuck when you produce something brilliant, because all the credit can't be given to you. I am yet to produce a work of brilliance, but that's a pretty great idea, isn't it?
One of my favourite books,'A Geography Of Bliss', says that if you look for happiness you'll never find it. It's the same with inspiration. When you yell to the high heavens asking to get inspired, you're unlikely to get a response. The truth is, you just have to keep trying. You'll churn out total rubbish sometimes, but sometimes, that elusive creative genius of yours, might just take some pity on you and lend you a hand. And then what, you ask? Magic, of course!
Monday, 11 August 2014
Taking a Step Back
Saturday, 9 August 2014
Religion is a Misogynist
Women are portrayed as impure, as temptresses, the weaker, the lesser beings. How is that fair? Women who were good with healing and midwifery were accused of witchcraft. Men felt threatened by a woman in a position of power.
India's most famous early legal code, The Laws of Manu (Manusmriti), says that a woman is a liar and a sinner. That it is in their nature to seduce men and that a husband can leave his wife if she has only given him daughters; and and and! She should never be allowed to assert herself independently. She always has to be in the custody of a man-be it her father, brother or husband. How evil can you be to compose something like that? That, if a woman overhears Vedic chants by accident, hot molten glass has to be poured in her ears? How can one be capable of such cruelty against your own race?
I haven't read the Quran, but after doing some research, I found that it does say that husbands have a right to hit their wives, if the men fear highhandedness; man is superior to woman-he has to manage her affairs. A direct quote from the Quran is-The Prophet said, "I looked at Paradise and found poor people forming the majority of its inhabitants; and I looked at Hell and saw that the majority of its inhabitants were women.". The Prophet said, "Isn’t the witness of a woman equal to half of that of a man?" The women said, "Yes." He said, "This is because of the deficiency of a woman’s mind." . Women apparently, deserved only half of what the man deserved.
Now, coming to Christianity, which was actually what prompted me to write this post. In Genesis, right at the beginning- God created Eve because he wanted a helper for Adam. He creates her from Adam's rib. Eve is the one who tempts Adam into eating the forbidden fruit and is cursed with painful childbirth and the domination of her husband. Lot tells the villagers to rape his daughters instead of the angels of God; his wife is turned into a pillar of salt for disobeying God and he sleeps with his daughters when drunk and impregnates them. And this is just the top of the dungheap.
One thing that all religions have in common is that, polygamy is perfectly okay if you're a man. The woman was created for only one purpose. To serve. The man could do anything, ANYTHING; and he would still be considered superior and it would probably be blamed on the poor woman. How can books that supposedly preach the word of God say all this? my blood boils even thinking of it. I'm not saying that the people who follow these religions are misogynistic pigs. The ones who actually wrote it... Well that's a whole other story. What if women hadn't finally gotten up and said,"Enough"? Would we still be subservient and willing to endure abuse at the hands of our families? The saddest thing is, that some people still believe in all this. They think that as it is the word of God, it must be true. What a world we live in, don't we?