No #MeToo. How #IKnockedTheLivingDayLightsOffTheSod

    This poem is to counter a bawdy #MeToo poem which aims at sadistically maligning Hindu Gods and mythological figures which has been circulating on Social media. Also, as a counter for pseudo feminists and feminazis who may or may not have had such experiences but are convenient fishing these wishful memories after years or decades of leveraging the benefits of silence and now have jumped on the bandwagon of #MeToo as a tool for revenge or plain maligning of an unsuspecting public figure with whom they may have interacted in the past…I am not saying the guilty should go ununpunished, if the aggrieved lady in  question has worked up her courage she should now report such a person, file a police complaint and inform the National Women’s Commission. Not sit on a plush leather couch and wave a #MeToo lace kerchief.. We as a society should encourage the silent, working class, oppressed working populace to stand up and get sexual predators and perpetrators identified, belted and booked. Our next generations should be trained to share brave tales of how #IKnockedTheLivingDayLightsOffMyHarrasser than soggy, faded and apologetic #MeToo sagas.


    No #MeToo. How #IKnockedTheLivingDayLightsOffTheSod

    No I don’t have a sorry tale of #MeToo

    Cause I grew up empowered

    Acknowledging the Goddess within

    I grew up worshipping the valiant Durga

    And learnt to recognize her living inside

    I learnt to unleash her if the situation so required

    And to proudly own my responsibilities,

    Self-defence and protection being primary


    I learnt to lead the charge, for I am Ma Katyayani

    From a tender loving maiden

    I can transform into a warrior woman

    Capable of riding a ferocious Lion to the battlefield

    I learnt to fight my own battles with squared shoulders

    Cause I am educated and an empowered naari (not an abala naari)

    And I have all the tools and training to holler bloody murder

    If someone were stupid or naive to show me the finger


    Even if I had to stand up to someone twice my size

    I have the conviction and the courage

    To unleash a Chamunda or a Bhadrakali

    For my culture reveres the combatant feminine

    The image of a living Goddess


    I am embody memories of innumerous Devi’s

    From Candika, to Skandamata, to Bhairavi

    I can call forth the terrifying Kaalratri

    Each manifestation more ferocious than the previous

    It is foolish to paint me as meek

    I who kick ashes on the crematorial earth

    And dance on the mightiest male chest sprawled on the ground

    None of my feminine versions

    you bet would be caught lisping a #MeToo

    Cause I proudly dangle and display scalp of the adharmiks


    I have grown up enthralled and inspired

    Portraying the capability inherent in women

    So she rises up to be a Para-Shakti

    Capable of snuffing out evil and the unjust

    So what rubbish is this #MeToo

    Like a silly detergent ad pitching envy over faded stains

    Instead lets share tales of

    #HowIBeltedTheLivingdayLights out of perpetrators


    Defying boundaries of feminine frailty

    It doesn’t need gilded backgrounds

    or a black-belt in self-defense

    All it needs is the power of conviction

    Affirm aloud – self-pride is above material constraints

    All it takes is a vehement NO

    For your firm nay is not up for bargain


    Those who quote Krishna and Gopi’s raas leela

    Such shallow fools, unable to comprehend a simple allegory

    Explaining relation of the divine and the soul (unrealized)

    Krishna taught us the spiritual path,

    the dharma of action, the laws of cause and effect

    Of total surrender to the divine

    And renunciation of the futile ego

    With beautiful representative metaphors


    Our mythology is full of leading ladies

    Who supposedly were subservient and always losing

    But only the shallow minded will be blind

    To their examples of high morals and winning lessons

    Each if them were leading ladies of their respective sagas

    Teaching forgiveness and societal balance

    Sure Sita gave the test of fire,

    Draupadi had to face the stripping vouyers

    Ahalya Devi was immobilized to a stone

    But the moral is not lost

    Each of them played their part

    With nerves of steel, quiet dignity and grace

    Playing as equals to their male counterparts


    Why go so far into the yugas

    When our recent history is full of so many contemporaries

    Braveheart women with tales of valor exemplary

    Young Jhansi Ki Raani – Laxmibai embodied Skandamata

    Determined to fight till her last breath

    She drew her sword and charged

    With her little one strung on her back

    Or the valiant Kuyili – woman commander of brave Rani velu Nacchiyar

    She lit her paraffin soaked body

    And hurled herself as a conflagration

    At the enemy’s arms depot

    Happily sacrificing herself in defence of her nation

    Or the indomitable Rani Abbaka Chowta of Tulunaad

    Who repeatedly challenged and chased the retreating enemy

    Several hundred kilometers along the west coast

    Defeating them in each of their strongholds

    Victorious she reclaimed the lost fortresses

    Or the beguiling Unniarcha of Malabar

    a medivial mastero of Kalaripayattu martial arts

    Who could reel in the ribbon blade with a flick of her finger nail

    And fought better than the best of Men


    It works both ways, I wouldn’t condone

    Feminazis pestering hapless boys and men

    So it’s a no for peeping-Tina’s to pellmell their stained napkins

    Onto the teenage mahayogi Swamy Ayappa

    In Yoga Nidra at Sabarimala

    It’s a no to abuse tender boys

    When they are at most vulnerable

    For each has a right to live safe and mature unsullied


    Oh yes, the world is full of predators

    and my life too had a few slinking in

    Most of them the sly hyena kind

    Many a time a baleful stare would suffice

    But On sighting the teeth brandishing Rakteshwari

    They choose to disappear into the crowd

    I only have tales of standing my  ground

    Of how #HowIBeltedTheLivingdayLights off some scum

    Sure at times I was bruised and my pride hurt

    That I could be seen as helpless gal

    But I tell you fixing some guy screaming up a peg

    Is far more satisfying,

    You need to show you mean business

    Be it on a busy railway bridge

    Or in a crowded bus

    Or while zipping through a busy street

    Or in the workplace or out in the fields


    All I remember are the looks of incredulous surprise

    For my hands were faster than my brain or thought

    And before the ass-hole with the wandering hand

    could comprehend –

    I had pinned the fella down wriggling

    By the scruff of his dirty collars

    My space and dignity was worth the courage and fight

    To watch him spluttering and spewing

    Let go, pleading flabbergasted

    The tables turned, how puny the perpetrator

    But my hands with a will of their own wouldn’t

    For there is profound satisfaction

    In hearing a well-deserved slap landing

    His red face deepening purple and my tingling palm


    It’s such a pity that the #MeToo brigade

    Never thought of self-defense and instant redemption

    Never considered being inspired by our legendary women stars of yore

    They made their little hay and now wave sorry

    Excuses of their own sordid compromises

    I did rather let the voiceless workers have their say

    Of how they whipped and stripped human snakes

    I did rather teach our young ones to treat each other with respect very

    So we build a future dignified

    No more soggy, faded #MeToo tales

    I did rather teach them to stand their ground against sexual perverts

    And later bandy tales of how #HowIBeltedTheLivingdayLights while guarding my turf, my body and pride.


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