On March 8

I have nothing magnanimous to say about women. We have been talked and written about profoundly since time immemorial.

We have been an artist's pampered interest, a sculptor's most precious mould, a lush green meadow for writers , since ages, to ruminate on.
We have enamoured poets from Donne to Neruda, embalmed their verses by our proverbial beauty.

We remain a conundrum to the world. They almost poetically say 'A woman's heart is akin to an intricate maze. One can't find his way out.'
They talk about woman so mystically, so unworldly as if she IS 'otherworldly' . To such generosity, we gracefully yet matter of factly say 'Thank you but we are not Aliens. We are mere earthlings of flesh and bones, with a heart and a soul.. very much like you!'


We feel venerated, we feel overwhelmed to receive such accolades. But still, when we look into the dismal corners of the world where we are given a deplorable, cattle like treatment, we don't fail to see the futility of such pompous laurels bestowed on us. At such deplorable times,we agonizingly implore the world, 'We are human, don't be inhuman to us. We need nothing more.'

8th March becomes a fallacy , a hypocrytic chivelry if we donot get the bare minimum human treatment. Is it too much that we expect? Aren't we all entitled to love and be loved? Empower us with love ..the prime impetus and we shall scale heights, unfathomable .

8th of March, like every other day, should be a day to celebrate 'Human'hood and not Womanhood alone.