Days start with pushing and pulling, cramped for all ages, hands with both colourful bangles and watches holding tightly onto the handrails of the women’s compartment of a local train in India. From beautiful sarees to uniforms, casual jeans to kurtas were the young mothers, students, elderly working women and ordinary ladies of the city; this confined space of the Mumbai locals forever welcomed them all.
It was yet another of the city’s busy days when everyone silently competed among themselves to get to their desired destination. My mum tightly held my hand as soon as the arrival of the train was announced; all the ladies around me, pulled their bags and purses upfront to their chests and tied their hair into some lazy buns, almost like preparing for a war-and the picture made the 6-year-old me break out into a small giggle. While everyone was on their guard, my mum picked me up in her arms while tightly holding onto her purse and jumped into the busy crowd as soon as the train settled on the platform. It was almost scary, frightening even-feeling those pushes,a havoc of voices travelling through the railway station, with a stuffed and conjusted notion around me.And just within the next few seconds we were inside the train,onto our seats.
That day I grew another colour into my vision,into my thoughts,ideas and my life.The colour was not a mere guest for few days,but my friend,my teacher and my shadow in these years of my life.It was a vision of women,from all age groups to religions,from all professions to appearances,from different stories to goals, they were all a contrast to each other. Some held their tiny children while some held onto their books, some held on to their phones while some onto their responsibilities, it strangely enabled me the pride in being a girl. That mere women’s compartment of the 20- compartment-long -train taught me more about feminism than any book, movie, or podcast could ever have .Filling me with sense of belonging seeing them be the strong,smart,beautiful yet vulnerable characters that took in charge of their own lives.
And thus, imprinting my first local train journey as my introduction to the glorious narration of Feminism!
A Glimps into the world’ gives a freshly imaginative and detailed insight into the author’s mind, her observance of the women in the local trains and travelling in the Mumbai locals as a 6 year old for the first time where she notices some capturing doings of the women in the train that bring a small giggle on her face.
The narrative also talks about how looking at all the captivating women the writer learnt more about feminism than she was taught in any other book, movie or podcast. The picture of such strong, different, smart, intelligent and bold yet emotional and vulnerable beings whose lives are in charge of them brings a sense of belonging to her. She comes to an end of the insightful narrative engraving her use of her first local trains ride to introducing herself to the magnificent story of feminism.
Very first thing to be noted is that the word ‘glimps’ that the narrator used her has a spelling mistake I suppose. As it’s supposed to be ‘glimpse’. It could be a genuine error. Moving on, I see that there’s a creative writing and mention of very minute details of women I quote ‘cramped for all ages, hands with both colourful bangles and watches holding tightly onto the handrails of the Women’s compartment’ in local trains in India to be specific. But here a slight detail that I think can be mentioned. Along with bangles, bracelets, rings, wrist bands, hair ties, mittens maybe some mehendi and nail polish, nail extensions too.
Her writing is simple and understandable yet descriptive and creative and it gives me chance to imagine all the description effortlessly and makes me curious to the details. The fact that there are references that are not cliché but common things that go unnoticed in the busy and bustling atmosphere that we live in makes the story unconventional and specially personal to the writer. For instance, mention of scary and havoc elements while standing on the railway station platform and women in different appearances but a common action that is performed ‘tying their hair into lazy buns’ and its comparison to a war-like scenario. There is no glorification of their actions or romanticising them but just a notice of it and the realistic scenarios all makes it more enjoyable to read and relatable to some.
It’s convenient as to how the narrator slowly dives into the feminism aspect and her sense of belonging by giving the story and observations first. More of an interesting connection that she creates here. After all, looking at different women juggling in the midst of living their lives and still making efforts and encouraging one another is quite empowering and relates me to the concept of feminism!