It is always lovely when people let me know that my story has touched them. Different people are moved by different stories, and it is interesting to see who is touched by what, and why. It is also fascinating to see how people interpret the stories.
My recent published story, Interlude - was no different. Some liked the format, some interpreted it as saying that family comes first, and some assumed it was my own story.
But what was different about this story was that within hours of my posting it on FB and on this blog, at least a dozen women mailed me to tell me that it is the story of their life. And with each mail, I felt a little less alone, but a little more depressed.
Yes, the story is entirely fictitious, but it is also true that several times during Puttachi's early childhood, I wished I could take a break. Not much - I didn't want to go away on a vacation - but I would feel this urge to go and sit under a tree in Lalbagh for the entire day. (Never got to do it, though) So the seed of the story is true - the urge to get away - but the rest is fiction.
And many women identified with it. Enough to tell me that it was as if I was writing about them. That they felt I was looking into their heads.
And though that flattered me as a writer, as a person, it saddened me - to think that there are so many women out there who are feeling bound and frustrated in their roles. Some of the fortunate ones get over it, we find things to do that make us feel better - but think of the millions of women all across the world who feel this way and have nowhere to go!
And I wonder if the people around these women are even aware that they are feeling this way. If they do know, would it be better for the women? Would it make a difference? Or not?
My recent published story, Interlude - was no different. Some liked the format, some interpreted it as saying that family comes first, and some assumed it was my own story.
But what was different about this story was that within hours of my posting it on FB and on this blog, at least a dozen women mailed me to tell me that it is the story of their life. And with each mail, I felt a little less alone, but a little more depressed.
Yes, the story is entirely fictitious, but it is also true that several times during Puttachi's early childhood, I wished I could take a break. Not much - I didn't want to go away on a vacation - but I would feel this urge to go and sit under a tree in Lalbagh for the entire day. (Never got to do it, though) So the seed of the story is true - the urge to get away - but the rest is fiction.
And many women identified with it. Enough to tell me that it was as if I was writing about them. That they felt I was looking into their heads.
And though that flattered me as a writer, as a person, it saddened me - to think that there are so many women out there who are feeling bound and frustrated in their roles. Some of the fortunate ones get over it, we find things to do that make us feel better - but think of the millions of women all across the world who feel this way and have nowhere to go!
And I wonder if the people around these women are even aware that they are feeling this way. If they do know, would it be better for the women? Would it make a difference? Or not?
3 comments:
It makes no difference. Woman who speaks out is disliked the most :-(
Not sure if i have ever commented here. But, have been a regular reader and enjoy your posts thoroughly.
Had to respond to this one - it stuck a chord too. In fact, I brought up the story in a recent get together of friends and at least 2 of them wanted to do exactly what you wrote in the story.
Yes, it is depressing, but you put those thoughts to words and got it published.That's something! Thank you :)
Radhika, AlwaysHappyLya, thank you for your comments!
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