The idea of:
Being Strong
Strength ka gender hota hai kya? We’ve all heard this phrase at some point in our lives—"Mard ko dard nahi hota"—but have you ever paused and wondered what it really means? Does being strong mean never breaking down, never crying, never sharing our pain? Or is strength found in allowing yourself to feel, to be vulnerable, to heal? From the moment we’re born, we’re handed a script. Girls are taught to be "strong" by sacrificing, by adjusting, by lowering their voice, by always considering what society will say. Boys, on the other hand, are told that strength means suppressing emotions, never crying, never breaking down. "Ek ladka nahi rota, toh wo strong? Ya phir bas bardasht kar raha hai?" When a girl grows up, she’s constantly reminded:
"Raat me bahar mat jana!"
"Hamesha pepper spray rakhna!"
"Oh, beta! Self-defence toh seekhna padega!"
"Duniya aisi hi hai, compromise seekho!"
The world conditions her to fear and calls it strength.
The ability to let go of dreams and desires, to shrink and accommodate, to ‘adjust’ and ‘sacrifice’—is this what strength looks like? And what about men? The ones who are taught from childhood that crying is weakness. That showing emotions is a sign of failure. That a "real man" doesn’t express pain. Society keeps whispering—“Mard ban, mard girta nahi, bas uthta hai”. But at what cost? A man who keeps lying to himself, bottling up his pain, carrying burdens he’s not allowed to share—is that being strong? Is it strong to ignore your struggles and suffer silently? To choose expectations over your own happiness? To keep quiet because "Ghar ki shanti bani rehni chahiye?" To accept things as they are because "Duniya toh waise hi hai, isko badalne ka socho bhi mat". So, what does being strong really mean? Is it about enduring pain, or having the courage to voice it?
Is it about keeping quiet, or speaking up for what we deserve?
Is it about constantly adjusting, or finally standing up and saying, “Enough”?
Because when we think about it, real strength is not about breaking down or holding it in—it's about choosing when to fight and when to walk away. It’s about choosing yourself when the world tells you to stay silent. Even Gandhiji taught us "Ahimsa parmo dharma" But didn't we still have to fight for freedom? The revolutionaries picked up weapons, yet we still call them strong. If we had only chosen peace, we would have never gained independence. But that fight, that struggle, that refusal to accept what is ‘just how the world works’—wasn't that real strength? So, is being strong about survival or truly living? Is it about enduring for the sake of peace, or choosing to break free? Maybe, at the end of the day, being strong is not about how much you can take. It’s about how much of yourself you refuse to lose.
Being Strong
Strength ka gender hota hai kya? We’ve all heard this phrase at some point in our lives—"Mard ko dard nahi hota"—but have you ever paused and wondered what it really means? Does being strong mean never breaking down, never crying, never sharing our pain? Or is strength found in allowing yourself to feel, to be vulnerable, to heal? From the moment we’re born, we’re handed a script. Girls are taught to be "strong" by sacrificing, by adjusting, by lowering their voice, by always considering what society will say. Boys, on the other hand, are told that strength means suppressing emotions, never crying, never breaking down. "Ek ladka nahi rota, toh wo strong? Ya phir bas bardasht kar raha hai?" When a girl grows up, she’s constantly reminded:
"Raat me bahar mat jana!"
"Hamesha pepper spray rakhna!"
"Oh, beta! Self-defence toh seekhna padega!"
"Duniya aisi hi hai, compromise seekho!"
The world conditions her to fear and calls it strength.
The ability to let go of dreams and desires, to shrink and accommodate, to ‘adjust’ and ‘sacrifice’—is this what strength looks like? And what about men? The ones who are taught from childhood that crying is weakness. That showing emotions is a sign of failure. That a "real man" doesn’t express pain. Society keeps whispering—“Mard ban, mard girta nahi, bas uthta hai”. But at what cost? A man who keeps lying to himself, bottling up his pain, carrying burdens he’s not allowed to share—is that being strong? Is it strong to ignore your struggles and suffer silently? To choose expectations over your own happiness? To keep quiet because "Ghar ki shanti bani rehni chahiye?" To accept things as they are because "Duniya toh waise hi hai, isko badalne ka socho bhi mat". So, what does being strong really mean? Is it about enduring pain, or having the courage to voice it?
Is it about keeping quiet, or speaking up for what we deserve?
Is it about constantly adjusting, or finally standing up and saying, “Enough”?
Because when we think about it, real strength is not about breaking down or holding it in—it's about choosing when to fight and when to walk away. It’s about choosing yourself when the world tells you to stay silent. Even Gandhiji taught us "Ahimsa parmo dharma" But didn't we still have to fight for freedom? The revolutionaries picked up weapons, yet we still call them strong. If we had only chosen peace, we would have never gained independence. But that fight, that struggle, that refusal to accept what is ‘just how the world works’—wasn't that real strength? So, is being strong about survival or truly living? Is it about enduring for the sake of peace, or choosing to break free? Maybe, at the end of the day, being strong is not about how much you can take. It’s about how much of yourself you refuse to lose.