feminism and love to me, forming me.

Being able to love.

[It's all a matter of strength. With weakness, it is not possible to support oneself. In order to love one has to stop living on others( economically, emotionally, biologically,intellectually, spiritually, etc)]

Such kind of a love was thwarted under my heart. If i remember it rightit began at the age of thirteen, when i was staying with my old and deaf grandmother at a beautiful place in wayanad, called ambalavayal,in the company of ruffling leaves and rubber woods.
My grey grnadmother spend all her time reading and re-reading the pulp fictions that they used to rotate in neighbourhoods. They could access more than five or six magazines every week since they were careful to buy the one the neighbour doesn't buy.
That was whn i was with myself, divine grace through the image of Christ used to lighten my heart and i thought inner that i will become Christ's bride, i thought there are children inside me and they will grow with me and once iw will give birth to them, ( at what age?)
well. After one or twl years, my parents become suddenly aware that "I'm grow up" and they forced me to be baqck to the city where my father had erned a low class income and the house was without a fence and in the centre of city.
In front of the house was a film talkies(we dont call it theatre as it is a smaller version of one, and used to run with the adult only pictures or Rajnikanth films).There were crowd all the time all males...
THE CONSTANT PRESENCE OF EYES that capture, confine and rape- seemed irrational at first. Irrational as it is , it exists! And that existence grew into threat weakening my mind, checking my grwoth, hindering my ways.
I grew grayer than my grandmother at the age of fifteen and made myself deafer than her. I CLOSED MYSELF AGAIST THE WORLD. And my YOUTH flourished in my undergarments with a sens of betreyal. I resented being a girl i resented my growth and and i resented all that I was supposed to love.
I thought all girls are like that and found betrayed again when they grew with such enthusiasm to become one among them, i cries and the criew were chocked again since i was asked to be "mature".
Years later when they ask me whetehr i'm a creative writer or an activist, when they probe into my identity i'm getting drowned into the that deafening world and say to myself i might be a complex existence that wanted to scream against the choking factors. And as long as it exists around me I am NOTHING ELSE.
yOU CANNOT FIGHT while living, unless you become totally identified to that fight. Unless i dedicate myself to the cause of feminism or marxism
unless i translate all my deeds into the terms of these isms, i cannot call my gith complete.
Unless i start living for myself i cannot be able to love.

The moment one start living for oneself one ebcomes able to feel the rights of others
Kindness flows from within and all you can do is to love and enjoy. All kinds of contrasts are against it.