Yesterday, I was having a conversation with my old friend and he asked me if I was still blogging. And I sighed immediately. The worst feeling is not giving time to writing. There are so many things to be told but I just feel too lazy. But now let me make a resolution of at least trying to bring up to you one topic per month. I don’t promise though. So, why this topic? A cliched term? I am not the one to give opinion here. The word feminism has very broad meaning. But I always look up to it and construe the same with my own experiences. I am quite amused by the interpretation of being a feminist and rolling of eyes that is freely accompanied by this topic. The word feminist is interpreted as bitch in a black suit, men-hater and who always consider herself superior, sometimes “divorced” and also annoyed at the entire world. Absolute myths surrounding the word. How many of you come across women starting the topic with “I am not a feminist but...”? I mean why you need to justify?
Ever imagined that every person you see, every person standing on the street has a story, may be an extra-ordinary story to tell. Ever imagined that abandoned building is a home for many twittering birds. The stranger who bumped into you has fought a battle against cancer? Ever occurred? Me? Yes, I have a habit, habit of observing things around me and finding funny moments circling through that observation and also at times feeling the centermost creature on Earth, all of these, just while commuting. Seeing traffic police daily, reminds me of cartoon “ Make a way for Noddy ” and the sole police office in that animated series named Mr. Plod (no idea why I still remember). And a smile spreads across my face. Obviously, when you compare Mr. Plod to any traffic police you see on streets, with a huge belly and his whistle, you just laugh. Sometimes, if you are extremely lucky (well in my case, yes), they allow you to elude a rule and instruct you to just not stop and go, even if y