By Madeline de Figueiredo Though there are laws protecting women in India, in reality, they are not enforced and women are frequently abused, exploited, and mistreated. For example, 47% of women are married under the age of 18, despite the fact that child marriage is illegal. Also, there are incredibly strict laws prohibiting dowries, but that does not prevent the excessive use and even murders known as "dowry deaths," men killing there wives when they feel they have not been fairly compensated. In addition, the Constitution states that there is to be no discrimination against women, yet there is extreme gender bias in schools and in the workforce. Women are often sexually harassed at work and are generally paid less then men in both rural and urban areas. So, though there may laws protecting women they are frequently disregarded resulting in gender discrimination and extreme inequality. There Has to Be More There has to be more. I bow to him, I wait.There has to be more, my child screeches.There has to be more, my head throbs.
The pounding gets louder and louder,I am 14. I am 14. This is not how life was supposed to be.They told me I would be great, that I was smart, that I had a future.Then they sold me, they sold me to that terrible woman.Who spat at my face, who harassed me, and who shoved me into the arms of dozens of men a day.
Then he came, my light, and saved me.He was happiness, he was love, he was everything.But, a blanket of darkness overtook our lives, enclosing him.He was not longer my light, but the devil, my evil.I feel the throbbing in my bones.
I’m worthless, I’m worthless, he tells me.He got nothing for me, he shouts. I will never be worthy of him he reminds me... every day.He is a murderer. He killed my child. He is a murderer.He is not my light, he is my devil.The blood trickles down my face, reaching the corner of my mouth.The metallic taste fills my mouth, and I think of my son, in the next room, experiencing the same sensation.
I begin to weep, wailing my boy’s name, when the devil comes forth.Suddenly, my mouth is the source of a waterfallA waterfall of rusted, red liquid staining the floor.The murderer bellows, quivering as he erupts with laughter, my pain his source of entertainment.I want to fight, but I know better, I have been taught to be respectful.
There has to be more, I lower my head towards his feet.There has to be more, my baby’s life taken away.There has to be more, my body aches.
There has to be more.
Lucy and Lukesh Lucy The sound of thunder shakes my house, my dog, Fluff, whimpers from beneath the table. Out of the corner of my eye I see the TV flickering. My laptop, warm on my lap, dings, indicating an incoming email. Simultaneously, my phone begins to ring. I hold my breath momentarily, hoping it is John. I don’t understand why he won’t just ask me out! SO exasperating! I pull my phone out of my pocket, rolling my eyes. This pathetic piece of junk should not even be considered a phone, and it’s not even John calling. I switch the phone off, as Fluff jumps up on the couch. His weight causes the the stack of textbooks next to me to fall on both of us. “Fluff!” I yell, reaching over the pick up the books. Algebra, Chemistry, English, German. Stupid. It’s all a waste of my time, homework, school, all of it. And I am never going to use chemistry again... ever.
Lukesh Dad tells me I do not need to continue school. He says I can finally marry my fiance of three years. I can settle down, start a family, be a good, servant wife and mother. I don’t need an education, he tells me, Raajaa will take care of me. But I do not want this. Raaja and I have only met once, and the only thing he talked to me about was how important it is for us to only bare boys. I have heard terrible stories of men forcing their wives to have an abortin when they discover their unborn baby is a girl. I used to shake my head at these stories, now I fear I may be part of one. I am 15. I want to study chemistry, become a professional. Mummy says men will be mean to me if I try to get a job, to join the workforce. But, that’s true everywhere. Look at Pyari. My poor baby sister, 14, and pregnant with a stranger’s baby, an attacker’s baby.They never told us this how life would be. We were never taught. Instead, they thrust us into men’s arms and bow to them. I know if I went into the city and worked I would not be paid as much as the men. But, I want a chance. I want my chance to prove that I am a woman who can be independent and smart. Life is not fair. Life will never be fair. But I don’t want a husband to serve, children to watch, and a life to live as an inferior, all I want in chemistry.
Though there are laws protecting women in India, in reality, they are not enforced and women are frequently abused, exploited, and mistreated. For example, 47% of women are married under the age of 18, despite the fact that child marriage is illegal. Also, there are incredibly strict laws prohibiting dowries, but that does not prevent the excessive use and even murders known as "dowry deaths," men killing there wives when they feel they have not been fairly compensated. In addition, the Constitution states that there is to be no discrimination against women, yet there is extreme gender bias in schools and in the workforce. Women are often sexually harassed at work and are generally paid less then men in both rural and urban areas. So, though there may laws protecting women they are frequently disregarded resulting in gender discrimination and extreme inequality.
There Has to Be More
There has to be more. I bow to him, I wait.There has to be more, my child screeches.There has to be more, my head throbs.
The pounding gets louder and louder,I am 14. I am 14. This is not how life was supposed to be.They told me I would be great, that I was smart, that I had a future.Then they sold me, they sold me to that terrible woman.Who spat at my face, who harassed me, and who shoved me into the arms of dozens of men a day.
Then he came, my light, and saved me.He was happiness, he was love, he was everything.But, a blanket of darkness overtook our lives, enclosing him.He was not longer my light, but the devil, my evil.I feel the throbbing in my bones.
I’m worthless, I’m worthless, he tells me.He got nothing for me, he shouts. I will never be worthy of him he reminds me... every day.He is a murderer. He killed my child. He is a murderer.He is not my light, he is my devil.The blood trickles down my face, reaching the corner of my mouth.The metallic taste fills my mouth, and I think of my son, in the next room, experiencing the same sensation.
I begin to weep, wailing my boy’s name, when the devil comes forth.Suddenly, my mouth is the source of a waterfallA waterfall of rusted, red liquid staining the floor.The murderer bellows, quivering as he erupts with laughter, my pain his source of entertainment.I want to fight, but I know better, I have been taught to be respectful.
There has to be more, I lower my head towards his feet.There has to be more, my baby’s life taken away.There has to be more, my body aches.
There has to be more.
Lucy and Lukesh
Lucy
The sound of thunder shakes my house, my dog, Fluff, whimpers from beneath the table. Out of the corner of my eye I see the TV flickering. My laptop, warm on my lap, dings, indicating an incoming email. Simultaneously, my phone begins to ring. I hold my breath momentarily, hoping it is John. I don’t understand why he won’t just ask me out! SO exasperating! I pull my phone out of my pocket, rolling my eyes. This pathetic piece of junk should not even be considered a phone, and it’s not even John calling. I switch the phone off, as Fluff jumps up on the couch. His weight causes the the stack of textbooks next to me to fall on both of us. “Fluff!” I yell, reaching over the pick up the books. Algebra, Chemistry, English, German. Stupid. It’s all a waste of my time, homework, school, all of it. And I am never going to use chemistry again... ever.
Lukesh
Dad tells me I do not need to continue school. He says I can finally marry my fiance of three years. I can settle down, start a family, be a good, servant wife and mother. I don’t need an education, he tells me, Raajaa will take care of me. But I do not want this. Raaja and I have only met once, and the only thing he talked to me about was how important it is for us to only bare boys. I have heard terrible stories of men forcing their wives to have an abortin when they discover their unborn baby is a girl. I used to shake my head at these stories, now I fear I may be part of one. I am 15. I want to study chemistry, become a professional. Mummy says men will be mean to me if I try to get a job, to join the workforce. But, that’s true everywhere. Look at Pyari. My poor baby sister, 14, and pregnant with a stranger’s baby, an attacker’s baby.They never told us this how life would be. We were never taught. Instead, they thrust us into men’s arms and bow to them. I know if I went into the city and worked I would not be paid as much as the men. But, I want a chance. I want my chance to prove that I am a woman who can be independent and smart. Life is not fair. Life will never be fair. But I don’t want a husband to serve, children to watch, and a life to live as an inferior, all I want in chemistry.