Mansi

There are times I can't hear my voice. As a woman, I think it's natural to have many voices that have nothing to do with being a woman. It comes from being the nurturer. It comes from being the caregiver, be it in the kitchen or at a hospital.
Least of all however, is the workplace. I hardly hear my voice in there. There is more truth to the phase - a man's world than we realize. Am I being a man in a man's world?

This is what I ask myself. No, it's not strange for a woman to 'be' something or someone else. This multi-roles are conditioned responses to years and years of being on the lower rung. Sometimes I wonder what it will take to realize the voice that is mine alone.

Recently there's been a huge hula about organizing a 'blogmeet' in Delhi. It's tomorrow evening at Flames, GKII. I am not excited about this one. I really don't want to go and meet men. Men, especially from the countless emails in our blog list, seem to be so boring and superfluous. Each time I read the updated attendance, I wonder if I'll get to read of another woman who's coming to the meet. Someone who might have an interesting blog, life or take on things.

Not that I vouch for being that voice. I don't.

A woman's voice.

I belong to a couple of mail lists and all of them have a very poor show when it comes to women speaking their mind. Mostly I believe because it isn't natural for women to speak out. We tend to guage, anticipate, weigh and are hardly ever into chest beating. I fear it's also because we tend to support first and oppose last.

Imagine when the dam breaks. Imagine a day when women find their voice - like a bell ringing at a church. I wonder what it will all sound like. A woman's voice.

POST'BLOG'SCRIPT - I did attend the Blog Meet despite being tired to the bone. I did register conversations for the first hour and then just tuned out after - again because of my tired state and not really because of the company I kept. It was refreshing as most blog meets are to meet nice 'new' chaps who're going down their roads and eager to share their life experiences. Superflous, they were not. As far as women's voices, there was Diya, refreshing and keen to engage: