Microtales
Stories that inspire

Fastforward To The Present

Travelling back from work after a tiring day, I am desperately trying to juggle my shoulder bag, tiffin bag in one hand and hold on the bar with the other in the local train.

A tap on the shoulder, I turn around, a young 30-year old lady asks “Do you have cancer?”

I am flabbergasted. Now where did this come from?

She is a complete stranger.

“Why?” I ask.

“You look like you are undergoing chemotherapy….. your hair….”

You see I am a woman living in Bombay & yes I have short hair but that does that mean I have cancer!

If I am wearing western clothes and board the ladies compartment in the local train, a crude reminder “This is a ladies compartment why don’t ypu travel in the gents?”

I have been called all sorts of names, my femininity questioned.

My crime – short hair. The length of my hair doesn’t confirm to the Indian standard.

On what basis do we call ourselves educated? I am sure we are living in the 17th century, forget what the calendar says.

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