Palpable Suffering: On Being A Woman in Mother India

Thursday marked the point in 2013 that I’ve been out of India for as long as I was in. Two months, give or take a couple days for simplicity’s sake. It’s getting to the point that I am healed from the experience. I’ve had enough time to process that romanticization has crept under the door to my brain. It wasn’t that bad, it whispers. You had an adventure! You saw a tiger! You have many beautiful pictures! You like the clothes you kept! In some ways, romanticization has a point. The Indian experience was…what it was. It had great moments.

But what my guest forgets is that there was one aspect of travel in India that cannot be fondly remembered. It was my constant companion, the source of much anxiety, and one of the main reasons that my boyfriend and I decided to pack up early and escape.

Being a woman in India is terrible.

Read the full article on my blog!


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