Nenju Porukkuthillaye!

...that is a line from one of Subramania Bharathi's poems. Bharathi was a poet, visionary, freedom fighter during India's long struggle for independence. This line "Nenju Porukkuthillaye, intha nilai ketta manitharai ninainthuvittal"...translates (loosely) into "My heart despairs, to think of these directionless hordes..."
What is this malaise that grips Tamil (and indeed much of Indian) society? It is called "marrying a girl away!". To achieve this single moment of glory in society, the girl's parents will stoop to any levels, grovel at anybody's feet, all for that disgusting moment of pride - " I have done my duty now". What duty is this, that these people talk of? A duty to grind that girl, who till recently was a living, if not thriving human being, into the golden dust (yet dust it is) of matrimony. 'Tis a strange fate, if she marries, she loses her identity to become another's wife, yet if she doesn't she lives to see her self-respect shredded in front of her own eyes. The very core of her being will be stripped naked, paraded in front of greedy, evaluative eyes. Eyes that judge, eyes that pry, eyes that gore, hands that paw, lips that leer, these are what will tear her apart from within and without.
Does nobody understand in society what it is to be a part of a sham called "arranged marriage"? There is a very harsh line dividing "getting married" & "getting married off" - the latter is like a swivel door that pushes you around rather than the other way. The man "gets married" while the girl "gets married off". She is "given away", like an inanimate object, an act of discarding. Why is it that in this day and age, even an economically independent, unmarried girl, is thought of as a burden, a duty to the parents go to any lengths to finish.
Woe betide, any woman for whom the leap from engaged to married is not always successful. For this woman, is marked, by the world and by her family. Her own will very apologetically tell future candidates in hushed tones, revealing as it were a tragic flaw -"she was engaged, but then it got broken". Then, it will be held against her, the "groom's" parents will denounce her as a lady of ill luck, and either demand more "compensation" which her already debt-ridden parents will happily get trapped into, or worse, say "NO". If he does say NO, then it gets really sickening. The girl's parents will now stop at nothing to offload their "burden" - they will beg this paragon of male virtuousness to please, please, oh! please accept their daughter. By the time, they are done groveling, their daughter will be walking naked in daylight, stripped to the bone marrow, her ego laid bare for all the world to trample upon.
When will this oppression end? This is the plight of the urban, reasonably educated woman. What then, is the plight of my less literate sisters? What can we do to hold a mirror to our parents - let not society bully you into losing your self-respect. And, if you cannot resist, don't drag mine down along with it. Stop the world! Lemme get off!

Obsession

What is an obsession? Websters' defines it as a persistent disturbing preoccupation with an often unreasonable idea or feeling; broadly : compelling motivation. That is a rather bland description of a powerful word - one that rules, one that controls, one that subjugates. An insistent worm that drills its way through your head - every waking and sleeping second. A misconceived fulcrum around which your thoughts revolve, which dictates which way your mind's balance swings, your actions, your reactions, your activity, your passivity. Its the inside of your eyelids, when you close them, its the back of your head when you look ahead, its the middle of your forehead when you are lying down. Its your entire being. Its the single most influential thing that decides how you feel when you wake up in the morning, how you feel when you retire for the night, how you spend the day nano (or is it pico) second to nano second. What am I saying, it does not decide - it IS how you wake up, how you sleep, how you exist. It is the air that you breathe, it is the music in your ears, the tears in your eyes, the highs, the lows, the only thing right now in the world worth living for.
But, what do you do when this obsession is another human being? Do you become a monster? Do you get trapped within the confines of another human being's persona? Do you fight yourself? Do you punish yourself for being weak? Do you derive masochistic pleasure from obsessing further? Do you analyse, over analyse to death the little details, read meanings where none existed? Do you ask for justifications where none are required? Do you retain your sanity by holding onto the obsession alone? Do you feel a little lesser of a human being every time you give in to the obsession? Does it tire you out? Unable to think of it, unable to get away from it...giving into an orgy of emotions, everytime you obsess, pacify your ego every time you give in, what is it that drives us to such dark depths, ignominies that once would have been scarcely tolerated are now accepted as a matter of course. WHAT IS THE WAY OUT?