There’s an urge towards indulging in violence in all of us.

Pure. Raw. Violence. Violence is the only real source of power.

The desire to hit someone.

The best of us channel it into sex. Making it an outlet. Pinning your partner on the bed or the wall while furiously satisfying the beast in both.

The average ones channel it into their entertainment – by watching superhero movies and game of thrones.

The worst ones exercise it – getting into fights and scuffles over traffic incidences or breaking queues or umpteen ways of feeling being wronged.

But. The worst of the worst exercise it in their own homes. Violence against the powerless and the meek. Men who hit their wives. Teachers who hit their students. Priests who abuse young boys. Boys who apply glue on the feet of a cockroach and watch him suffer.

I don’t know where men who in their anger hit little children who play pranks rank. Especially those children whose parents are powerless to retaliate. Kids of watchmen, of maids, street kids.

That’s doubly terrible because it reinforces the brahminical mindset that pervades this entire country. Exercise the power over the underprivileged by making them feel the worst feeling known to them – being unable to protect their kids from being hurt by an offended powerful stranger.

I’ve been hit often in my childhood. By parents, teachers and strangers. My sister even more. I’ve seen my mom being beaten black and blue.

But I’ve never got used to this rage. Yesterday it flew but I smiled away in indifference outwardly because some people are beyond listening. I tell myself like she tells me – the day wasn’t good, the action of the person was awful and I am mature enough to love a person and hate a trait.


They tell me I say and do things men generally don’t. My wife teases me when I like perfumes and flowery subtle shower gels and facewashes. I think a lot I talk a lot I feel a lot I read poetry i write – more a woman than many women I know.

But I’ve seen what being an alpha male means to the family.

If that’s what it means to be a man, I am glad I am not.