Will you change when the will to change is undone?

It is time to change many things. Small things. Big things. Yeah. 

Like how not to ask single mothers to produce certificate that they are single and reasons why they are so at the passport office.  Like how not to prevent renting apartments to single women in Chennai because it is “unsafe” or they may bring in “unwanted” visitors. Like how not to shun a widow from main ceremonies during marriage –umm, isn’t she is “inauspicious.”Like how not to tell a woman recounting domestic violence that husband-wife quarrels are best kept in the confines of your home. Like how not to call a rape survivor as victim and instead tell her that it is a trauma, not a shame that she needs to hide. Like how not to tell an incest survivor: you imagine things.

Or small things like how not to call anybody bastard for it means his/her mother was a prostitute or call someone “behenchod” for it means the sister has suffered incest. And other small things like not placing an 8pm curfew on women at work. Or not teach a woman how to dress and not dress. And like not having more restrictions on women than men in university hostels because it is assumed that the parents have given the responsibility of the saving the honour of the girls to the college administration! Like not having two ways of prefixes for women-- “Ms” or “Mrs” while men have the easy choice of the most ambiguous prefix, “Mr”.

And like not telling a woman she can’t.

And like not believing a woman can’t.

And many more like in this link: http://www.facebook.com/sftimetochange

Yeah it is time to change many things. Big things. Small things.

But more importantly, when campaigns end, when media blitz fades, when tweeting stops and blogs archive, when the mundane existence re-assumes in its monstrosity, when food, shelter, and savings control and demand our attention, when compassion exhausts and cynicism limps in, then:

Can we sunder our hearts once again, stayfree and push? Push that door once more and say I care, once more walk the street to that office and say, “No, it will not be,” once more hold her and say “Yes, I hear you! I believe you!,” once more put the pen to paper, once more tweet, once more bring that blog back to life?