Now, I’m being Felicia, an 8-year-old footballer in my son’s class. During a school football match, she passed the ball to the girls on the opposing team, leaving the boys on her team in tears. She let the opposing “only girls” team score a goal because she thought the girls on the other team and she were the actual team. Long live women’s movement I felt. That incident truly inspired me.
I’m therefore teaming up with women in Afghanistan. Sadly, I’m leaving my Indian men here along with the Taliban. I can see the men around me roll their eyes in wonder, thinking how women can be equal than they already are—especially in a city like Bangalore.
Well! I agree that I can let the winds pamper me in Bangalore. I can allow the raindrops to smooth my frown and save on therapy. I can walk in heels without hurting anyone’s ego. Most importantly, I can chatter about my dislikes on this blog.
Still, I’m being a monkey, perched high in the forest, watching a tiger—or a Taliban—giving an alarm call to the rest of the forest, or to the women around me. From the top of this tree, I see many things.
The Indian government’s choice to ignore critical issues and lean toward honoring the Taliban’s culture is right in my vicinity. The government did not seem uncomfortable displaying respect for the “Taliban culture” publicly by not inviting women journalists to the press meet held at the Afghan Embassy in India. For two days, along with the equality battle fought by the women journalists in this country, I too struggled to focus at work because of the anticipatory trauma I felt for India.
India suffered from child marriages, Sati, and lack of education for many decades. Millions of great minds were destroyed—minds that could have nurtured love in our concrete jungles. We survived those dark tides of discrimination thanks to the laws we created. Article 14 of our Constitution says the state shall not discriminate against any citizen on the grounds of religion, race, caste, sex, place of birth, or any of them—but on 10th October 2025, the government, the so-called guardian of rights, violated that principle.
Alongside anger, I felt deep empathy for the women in Afghanistan. In my head, I became a ping pong ball, shrinking in fear. I imagined a man with a gun forcing me to shut my laptop, calling me a whore for writing a blog. I imagined my handbag, my phone, and my driving seat taken away. I imagined walking miles without a doctor to treat blisters on my feet. I imagined spending days and nights peeping through holes in multiple layers of blankets.
I was breathless in that moment. I choked. I ran to fix my head under the tap, letting the water flush my racing thoughts.
About Indu
I’m Indu, a content writer with an MA in English and a background in journalism and digital marketing. With 3 years of teaching experience, I specialize in creating research-driven, SEO-friendly, and engaging content across blogs, social media, and web platforms. My passion lies in blending storytelling with strategy to help brands and professionals communicate effectively.
Bangalore Stories: Life, Love & Laughs 
Women’s Freedom and the Taliban Debate: A Personal Essay
Now, I’m being Felicia, an 8-year-old footballer in my son’s class. During a school football match, she passed the ball to the girls on the opposing team, leaving the boys on her team in tears. She let the opposing “only girls” team score a goal because she thought the girls on the other team and she were the actual team. Long live women’s movement I felt. That incident truly inspired me.
I’m therefore teaming up with women in Afghanistan. Sadly, I’m leaving my Indian men here along with the Taliban. I can see the men around me roll their eyes in wonder, thinking how women can be equal than they already are—especially in a city like Bangalore.
Well! I agree that I can let the winds pamper me in Bangalore. I can allow the raindrops to smooth my frown and save on therapy. I can walk in heels without hurting anyone’s ego. Most importantly, I can chatter about my dislikes on this blog.
Still, I’m being a monkey, perched high in the forest, watching a tiger—or a Taliban—giving an alarm call to the rest of the forest, or to the women around me. From the top of this tree, I see many things.
The Indian government’s choice to ignore critical issues and lean toward honoring the Taliban’s culture is right in my vicinity. The government did not seem uncomfortable displaying respect for the “Taliban culture” publicly by not inviting women journalists to the press meet held at the Afghan Embassy in India. For two days, along with the equality battle fought by the women journalists in this country, I too struggled to focus at work because of the anticipatory trauma I felt for India.
India suffered from child marriages, Sati, and lack of education for many decades. Millions of great minds were destroyed—minds that could have nurtured love in our concrete jungles. We survived those dark tides of discrimination thanks to the laws we created. Article 14 of our Constitution says the state shall not discriminate against any citizen on the grounds of religion, race, caste, sex, place of birth, or any of them—but on 10th October 2025, the government, the so-called guardian of rights, violated that principle.
Alongside anger, I felt deep empathy for the women in Afghanistan. In my head, I became a ping pong ball, shrinking in fear. I imagined a man with a gun forcing me to shut my laptop, calling me a whore for writing a blog. I imagined my handbag, my phone, and my driving seat taken away. I imagined walking miles without a doctor to treat blisters on my feet. I imagined spending days and nights peeping through holes in multiple layers of blankets.
I was breathless in that moment. I choked. I ran to fix my head under the tap, letting the water flush my racing thoughts.
Share this:
Related
About Indu
I’m Indu, a content writer with an MA in English and a background in journalism and digital marketing. With 3 years of teaching experience, I specialize in creating research-driven, SEO-friendly, and engaging content across blogs, social media, and web platforms. My passion lies in blending storytelling with strategy to help brands and professionals communicate effectively.