Rashmi's Space

Clay figurines. Colourful. Vibrant. Bucolic. That is their trade. Dealing in snazzy, bright clay figurines, bowls, masks, wall-hangings. They sit by the side of the road. Their wares displayed along the pavement. So people can see when passing – on foot, in their cars. Every once in a while, someone passes in their car and then parks the car further along the road and comes walking back to inspect something that has caught their eye. They ask the price. Which is usually not too much. They still bargain. And eventually, at a much lesser price than the artifact is worth, they buy the piece. It will look amazing on their feature wall, they think. It will dazzle their boring passageway. It will welcome their guests warmly... But more often than not, no one buys much. Especially on working days. Busy days. When the adults are rushing to and back from work and the children are tired, being taken to school and back. But they still sit there. Their wares spread. Eve...

My social media feed overflows with #MeToo posts. The posts started trickling in since yesterday. And today, more people – maybe emboldened by seeing posts by their close friends, or fortified by the festive spirit (read: realising that this status update can easily be overwritten tomorrow with Diwali wishes) – have come out openly speaking up about their experiences. Comments, likes, outrage, statistics – there are innumerable responses to all that is being shared as part of this campaign. Enlightening, encouraging, harrowing, inspiring – the posts run the gamut. Many of my friends have put this up as their status. Several have gone ahead and shared their experiences. A lot, have even spoken about how someone in their family – a mother, a sister, a friend, an aunt – helped them cope and even stood up to the perpetrators in some cases. Quite a few, have mentioned instances where they had done so themselves, by calling out the perpetrators and asking help from authorities. ...