The Tea-Stall

“You wake up one morning and you realize that you are a woman. No it doesn’t happen that way. Sure, you can wake up one morning and realize that you are an adult or your life has begun or may be you are in love. But we cannot just wake up one morning and realize oh, I am a woman, I just want to get out of bed and have a tea at the local tea-stall.

Of course, I may do that too, but for me to be really comfortable I would like to see a lot of women seated in the tea-stall like the men in pajamas, and I don’t mean hipster young people that would make the tea -stall a cafe. I mean regular house wives, salwaar kameez clad women instead of men in their inner wears, squatting flies with their gaze affixed on me. Or may be they don’t do anything- men, and everything is in my head- but what strikes me is the proportion. I would any time pick a women with flowers in her head or women with sari tucked in with a bag of vegetables. But they don’t do it, and I can’t go to the tea- stall.

Because I am a woman, and a woman is made to realize that she is a woman right from her infant days, most of us are never children, we are just born women, terrified of our sexuality and unsure of the visit to the local tea-stall.”