Could I put the title a little subtler? Say, 'That time of the month' which will still mean the same. Or maybe call it 'Chums!' , like the girls call it. I refuse to change it simply because I am not ashamed to talk about an absolutely normal physiological function of my body. Secondly, but more importantly this title caught your attention.
For obvious reasons that talking about periods is a taboo, this article would probably be given a U/A certification.
Disclaimer: Every thing and every person stated in this story does hold resemblance to a lot of people living or dead. Everything is purely non-fictitious. Yes, that was 'the' week of her month, that her uterus is normally meant to shed out some blood in proof of her genotypical makeup of her as a woman, courtesy the XX chromosome.
She makes sure her little sons don't accompany her to the store this time because one of the items on her list was a packet of pads. ( I refuse to use any subtle term for the same because the word pads don't embarrass me). She was as always unprepared to answer their queries about this or the better explanation is that she is supposed to keep it the secret of the confession box.
As she walks into the store with a sense of guilt, which obviously she should be sporting because she is guilty of the crime of letting her womb bleed. She walks through the various lanes of products in the store. She walks past the row of sanitary napkins probably more than twice or thrice but will not stop to pick up what she needs because there's too many people and of course she's trying to acquire an explosive for criminal purposes so she needs to make sure nobody catches sight of the same.
Okay, field clear! Now, she runs to the row without looking right or left and picks up what she wants. Meanwhile, she keeps a watch to ensure nobody sees her in that row. If by chance someone seems to come that way, she picks the first packet that comes to hand , without bothering to look for the specifications and quickly turns round to another section, like she never knew this section existed. All done, she takes a deep breath.
The next task is to hide the packet of pads underneath the remaining things on her list for the fear of having any sort of eye witness to her buying them. Next drama occurs at the billing counter. One by one as she places the products on the billing counter, she looks into the screen to make sure the price, the discount and offers are all right. The billing person in an occasional nod confirms to the discounts mentioned. Now, the turn of the sanitary napkins. She picks it up with a feeling of awkwardness, quickly placing them on the billing table making sure she makes absolutely no eye contact with the person and he makes sure he doesn't too.
All done, another store worker helps her with the packing. The procedure begins with placing the packet at the bottom most to avoid anyone else having a look at it. If this were a local provision store one, she would have received it gift wrapped in newspapers of two weeks put in a black polythene cover . In case the men have not noticed, black polythene cover is the national standard code for sanitary napkins. With a fear of meeting anyone she knows, she walks down the street. She heaves a sigh of relief only when she reached home in the end. Now this packet goes into the darkest chambers of the wardrobe and many times beneath all the clothes.
Well, is this an exaggeration or a mere monthly event many of us women can relate to? So have we ever thought why we do stuff we don't necessarily need to? How guilty are we of menstruating and what makes us whisper about it?
Yes, I menstruate and the reminder from the womb every month is a reminder of the divine gift of child bearing every woman is called for. I am not embarrassed by the normal physiology of the female body.
Yes, I menstruate.
No comments:
Post a Comment