Today

Now:

Monsoon clouds with promise of rain. Acoustic guitar and a husky voice. Book that makes you happy, then sad, then happy again. The smell of rain. Hot Chai. Unexpected chocolates.

And to think I thought I had woken up from the wrong side of the bed this morning.

The still afternoon of the Deccan Plateau provides plenty of time for ruminations on the past, the present and the uncertain future. It has me accustomed to a sedentary rural life where I covet my spaces with a ferocious intensity. It has, over the years, become what I call home and my comfort zone. The past 4 and half odd years are a bit of a blur with no real spatial divisions. Spending last semester away did not rupture that continuum either. ( I sound so post-modernist dah-ling!) But apart from the obvious differences that the changed environment of last semester provided, the lasting flavour from that season, for the lack of a better way to describe it, is masculine.

The sense of "liberation" in walking the streets without a millions stares, the beer guzzling, the general unkeptness ( I now do my eyebrows regularly, and wear heels occasionally), the casual sex. Fine, maybe not the last one- but the general feel of not being in a relationship for the first time in my adult life all combined to give a sense of being that for some reason I seem to associate with maleness.

This conclusion seems entirely contradictory to any feminist stance that i claim/purport/aim to possess. Why do I associate confidence, being comfortable in your skin and a lessened sense of emotional vulnerability with masculinity?