Women and Sympathy.

I have a problem. A serious problem with two words. Women and Sympathy.

I feel utterly disgusted, sad and equally sorry when women are felt sorry for.
I wonder at the educated elite as much as I wonder at the illiterate
street labor.
I wonder at the rich married executive as much as I wonder at the
unmarried youth.
I wonder from one corner of the world to another.
I wonder from the nudity of branding this gender to glorifying the
ambitions of this gender.

I wonder not just as men. I wonder at women too.
I wonder at every human who looks through the lens of sympathy,
looking for the fragility of a woman, diagnosing her as victim and
prescribing her sympathies.
I wonder at every woman who leverages the eyes of sympathy to justify
her bitterness at this evil world.
I wonder at every single one of us.

I wonder at every parent, every girl, every woman who accepts and
internalizes the notion of a prince.
I wonder at every girl that exploits her fragility in the society by
assuming herself as damsel in distress.
I wonder at every girl who depends on becoming a damsel in distress to
get her knight in shining armor.
I wonder at our society's obsession with colorful lens.

Anyone who is a feminist and anybody who is an anti feminist are
equally worth of wonder.
For they both present a skewed representation of identity.
For they both reflect their rigidity of choice.
I wonder at our rigidity and impulse to feel for women.

I wonder how the world romances with women.
Stripping her off her strength, inculcating in her the need for sympathy.
Subtly flirting and probing her pains at the society
Proving the society as evil to position her as the damsel in distress.

All along in this pseudo praise and celebration of her fragility.
She is being used, exploited and positioned as a victim
Not because she really is, but because her victimhood gives an ego
boast to the society.
Her being a victim, in pain, in need makes the society run to her to help.

She maybe the weaker gender.
She may even be the victim of this society.
But that, does not, in anyway, give anyone the right to celebrate her
victimhood and shower her with sympathies.

The only woman I don't wonder is the one
who amongst all this game of sympathies
does not take part at all.

The one who has herself for herself.
The one who doesn't need to become a damsel in distress to seek her prince.
The one who refuses to accept herself as a victim.
The one who refuses to be the victim. Of society, Of society's evils
and Of society's sympathies for her.

The one who cherishes her Pain as much as she cherishes her Joy.
The one who doesn't use her pain to appear more feminine.
The one who doesn't use her pain to become a bitter evil feminist
revolting against the world.
The one who doesn't fall victim to the society's remedy for her.
And maybe, the one who has Him to rely on.

Mark of a real human is to remain the Soul with no rigidity either way.
Mark of a real human is to look at her without the prejudice of
finding a victim in her.
For if a human is looking through the eyes of ego, it is easier to
find her as a victim, easier to label her as one,
For then, it is easier to create in her the need for dependence.

For mark of a real human is to recognize her just the way she is.
Nothing less. Nothing more.
No feminist. No anti-feminist.
Maybe its time to teach our daughters not to seek the prince who seeks a damsel. 

Seek a prince that seeks a human. 

The day we stop seeing her as sad, bad, weak, in pain and as a
victim..is the way when we'd start seeing her as a complete human.
For only complete humans, refusing sympathetic exploitation of their
pains, take humanity forward.
They know the power of Empathy for others, rather than sympathy for themselves.