Today was a very painful day. Literally, very painful.
I would like to throw some light on the origin of the pain. I was born with a vagina which basically meant that I was destined to bleed every month for the rest of my life from the day I’d hit puberty until the day I’d reach menopause. I, obviously, had no idea about it until I was in class 7. Chapter 10 of the Science text book called ‘Reproduction’ blew everyone’s mind away and we were way too excited about this chapter because… guess why? There was a colourful and detailed visual representation of the male and female genitalia. So that is the reason I remember what chapter number it was. (Don’t judge me!)
I was 9-years-old when I first got my period and the first thought that crossed my mind after I saw the blood was the name of the only disease that I knew of – Cancer. (As you can see, I wasn’t a very bright child.)
Next step was to drop the C-bomb at my mother and it took me a while to do that because not only was I scared of death coming to me so soon but also, embarrassed. I was bleeding from a part of my body that wasn’t ever discussed at home. So, I somehow gathered the guts to tell her and she, without uttering a word, went inside, got me a sanitary napkin, explained how to wear it and told me that I don’t have Cancer. I was so glad that I wasn’t dying that I couldn’t stop smiling that entire day. But, now the curiosity in me was turning into an active volcano ready to erupt at any moment. My mother wasn’t a very open person so she discouraged my questions by giving one word answers to questions like – “Does Kareena Kapoor bleed, too? And what about Hrithik Roshan?” “Yes and No”, she answered enthusiastically. Turned out, boys didn’t bleed. That fact made me angry.
Fast forward to 4-5 years later and I was a pro who knew much more about periods than the other girls my age who had recently started menstruating. There was nothing to be proud of, though. It was terrible. I had to plan my holidays. I couldn’t go swimming for 4-5 days at a stretch. I wasn’t allowed to go to temples. I wasn’t allowed to enter the kitchen or the room where the ‘Gods’ sat. Sometimes, there’d be stains on my white skirt at school which had to be hidden with the help of my friends who’d circle around me while we made our way to the girls’ loo. And there was constant paranoia if the damn skirt is fine because it would have been embarrassing if someone comes to know that you bleed (especially a boy) even though it’s a universal fact that all girls do and it’s abnormal not to. My school life was painful, too. My face was the prime residence to all kinds of pimples because hormones were like “aaj kuchh toofani kartein hain” (Let us do something stormy AF) for the stretch of 5-6 years. There were days I couldn’t attend school because the menstrual pain was suicidal. (I am not exaggerating when I say suicidal.)
When I started college, the pimples had left, leaving their mark on my face but the periods stayed, obviously. The pain started getting worse. I started throwing things, tearing things apart, screaming at people and going bezerk with my tantrums because hormones were like “bahut din se koi drama nahi hua. Aaj kuch toofani kartein hain” (It has been a while since something dramatic happened. Let us do something stormy AF). It continues to be this way until today. I had to miss classes because standing up and walking wasn’t an option for me.
Life hasn’t changed much since school or college. I still have suicidal menstrual cramps. The only difference is that I can’t stay back home to rest and let it pass. I have to work through it because there are deadlines and people who are dependent on you (Adulting, yo!). Most of the times, they’d make you feel like you’re making shit up because guys won’t understand until you hit them in their balls and some girls are simply too bitchy and lead a very painless life (I envy you. I almost hate you).
Coming back to today. By this time, I am guessing that you’d have a fair idea about why my day was painful. So I gobbled up two Meftal Spas ( Dear Boys, this is the medicine you get the ladies in your life when they have menstrual cramps. It always works until and unless it is me who you’re giving it to. IT DOESN’T WORK ON ME.), 4 cups of green tea and two sandwiches. I thought I’d escape this time but no, it just hung there like a terrible piece of chewing gum stuck to the sole of your shoe. There were people to comfort me but as I started feeling better after a couple of hours, in my attempt to get another cup of green tea, I spilled boiling water on the little finger of my right hand and got 1st degree burns. Later that day, I also bumped into a planter and scratched my leg. My horoscope for today would have sounded something like this,- “You might die. Save yourself.”
Periods are an absolute waste of a female life. I don’t get why I have to go through all that pain and why aren’t people emphatic enough towards all of us who go through it. One thing that I want to say to all the employers who think we are making this shit up – “Fuck off because you don’t even deserve to be called humans when you behave like this. May you burn in hell.”
I’m in pain right now while I write this in one stretch. If you found this offensive in any way…, I would like to tell you to FUCK OFF AND SUCK A DICK because you’re undeserving of love. Bye.