International Women's Day

In 1909 some women textile workers in New York went on strike. After
thirteen weeks of relentless opposition they won for themselves shorter
working hours, better pay and a right to unionise. This uprising in
those bleak times was recognized by marking March 8 as International
Women's Day.

One day out of 365 to appreciate women and all they do.

It wasn't till Ponds' publicised the celebrations on the telly did I
come to know of the festivities across the globe. I felt happy. Here I
was, a sixteen year old studying in an all girls' institution
exchanging spirited Archies' cards on a solemn occasion. The
significance of the day for me? We got free candies! Apart from that
one treat, everything else remained the same. I carried the same 4-kilo
bag to school. I attended the same boring chemistry and physics
lectures. I came back home to have the same daal roti. And ended the
day doing the same maths homework.

Was it any different for my mom? Not with her nine to five office
routine and household chores. She even wondered aloud while watching TV
one day, "What's all the fuss about?"

And really, what is it about this one day that is so special for you
and me? Is it that the male species does not offend members of the
hallowed gender on this particular day? Is it that women are spared
obnoxious looks or comments while crossing streets? Do men stop
touching us without our consent in crowded buses and trains? Are we
given the dignity we have a right to at our workplace or our homes? Are
we taken seriously, even if for a day?

Or really is it just a symbolic day to continue the fight that was
started a century ago?

And what happens the morning after? You browse through your newspaper
and find coverage on demonstrations for womens' rights, inaugurations
of womens' exhibitions, celebration of the spirit of a woman! And right
beside these extensively glorified news items there will be a small
nondescript column - 16-year-old gang raped in Satoha district.

Seven years hence television channels continue to celebrate the ongoing
struggle of women in every corner of the world. I feel sad.
At 23, I, for one, do not need a day to make me feel special. I know I
am.
I do not want to be treated like a queen for a mere twenty-four hours.
I rule my world every day and I do it with pride.
I do not demand respect at work or at home as an excuse on 8th March. I
deserve it each day.
I do not want equality for I am not competing. I know I am superior.
And this I say only on the basis of my stronger genetic make up.
I do not want any honours bestowed upon me to mark an occasion. I am a
woman - and this is the highest honour God conferred upon me.

Maybe we could just do away with International Women's Day and
institute an International Men's Day. Father's Day sure has its
contenders but what about a day that recognizes men, regardless of
their paternal status? I wonder why we don't have one date set aside to
celebrate the spirit of "manhood"?

Or is it that men do not need to be recognized till we women make them
proud daddies?