Diary of a Feminist: Is My Perception Biased?

Sometimes I wonder why most of the suffering humans I come across happen to be wo­men. Perhaps I look at the world with a tinted glass, with a feminist hue. Which makes women substantial, of flesh and blood, anchored in the centre of my visual span. While men, papery, ghost-­like, float at the periphery.

Is my perception selective? Might be. But I don’t under­stand this process of selectiv­ity. It is in my genes which make me perceive, make me feel so intensely about my own kind? Or is it in the envi­ron — the women’s condition — which etch them on my mind?

I try hard. Yes, I do re­member a few men whom I know closely. Who had suffered in life. Or are suffer­ing. Of poverty, or disease, or circumstances. But their mis­eries I always ascribe either to fate or to their own failure. That’s not the case with wo­men. Somehow I always find a man behind a suffering woman.

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Diary of a Feminist: A Circle of Suffering

She got married when she was 20. If only she would have said “No, I don’t want to get married right now. I would rather study.” But she didn’t say it. She could have had her way. She had that will to fight.

But I guess the idea of getting married appealed to her. It was exciting and romantic. Besides, her mother was too anxious to marry her off as her father was old and about to die. And she wanted to be done with that cumbersome task in his lifetime.

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