ShradhaGiriblogs

Here’s to strong women; may we know them; may we be them; may we raise them – anonymous. During a typical sophomore year in college, our English Professor asked us to raise our hands if we were a feminist. I waited for the class and since not many students raised their hands I decided to be the sheep. Our professor stated every one of us are feminists by nature, some of us feel strongly about what we believe equal rights are and some of us, well we have other priorities. That day I didn’t feel strongly about anything in particular.  And because I started blogging sometime back I realized I feel strongly about my rights as a woman and that for my daughter. So if you happen to read my blogs you will read a lot about what I think an idealistic Nepal/world should be for my daughter to grow up in. You will also read a lot about me shunning the worldly rituals rightfully reserved for women. Ours is obviously sourced from the famous shastras which makes it even more signific...

I can be anything. No. No one ever said this to me. I understood. I was a girl. I couldn’t be anything I wanted to be. I knew that because I have been vehemently practical. I knew my limitations yet let my expectations run wild. I grew up with many siblings. My brothers drove cars when they reached grade 8 and when I turned 14, I demanded that my father taught me how to drive too. My father happily obliged. I was obviously excited to be behind the wheels, when I steered and hit the gas I knew there wouldn’t be any boundaries for me. Little did I know being practical and driving a car didn’t mean life’s road will be rosier.  Past the next generation. I have a baby girl. She is going to embark on a new journey come August and I couldn’t be more excited. She is graduating to grade 1. More so often we converse like any mother and daughter duo would. I am usually either yelling at her or showering her with love. I tell her constantly she can be anything she wants to be. I re...

The mud and brick house reflected the sunlight rays. The reflection was so warm I could have stayed there without moving forever if only someone ensured I wouldn’t miss out on the bigger fun. I often hung out with my brother’s friends as I didn’t have any of my own. Rabindra a common friend in my brother’s gang of boys was nice, he didn’t mind playing with me despite the fact that I was a girl. This particular memory of him and I playing together is so sketchy sometimes I worry if I have conjured it up in my own little head. Then I think out loud, why I would imagine something that didn’t happen? It is not like I was hopelessly in love with him or ever yearned to play with him. I remember this thirty second frame so well that today I decided I should type it finally. One day I believe it was after lunch all my brothers friends were playing in our neighborhood. I was there I remember vividly. Suddenly, someone mentioned Rabindra had a collection of stamps and that he would sha...