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I recently came across someone at a iftaar party (which are all the rage these days – who would’ve thought breaking your fast would become a fad in itself). I’ve spoken to this person numerous times before, and shared pleasantries, made some chit chat. This time something interesting cropped up.
During our conversation she mentioned that her 7 year old daughter doesn’t like the hair on her arms or legs. She said her daughter feels self-conscious at school, and around her friends and so she helps her daughter to feel better. How does she do this I bet you are wondering? Does she tell her she is beautiful as she is? That she isn’t hairy in the slightest?
No, she waxes her daughters arms and legs for her. Waxing. A 7year old girl. And now her daughter likes her limbs like that as she has accepted that she is hairy and so needs it.
I was shocked. What kind of a mother seriously thinks it is normal and acceptable to have her 7 year old daughters arms and legs waxed because she (and the daughter) think she is hairy? What 7 year old doesn’t have hair on their arms and legs?
What the hell….!
I’ve always thought women with a monobrow/unibrow (when the eyebrows join in the middle) seem as though they are angry or about to fly off the handle. I wouldn’t say they seem menacing, although men with a monobrow do.
In some cultures having one eyebrow (especially women) is seen as a desirable feature – though if you are a desi woman, you are very quickly introduced to the world of threading to get rid of it!
I have naturally thin and arched eyebrows so have never had to deal with taming them, but what do you think of monobrows – do you like them or not?
I have realised over the past few years that what I thought was the norm is infact a rarity and I had took it for granted.
I had assumed most women who go about their daily lives working, engaging with people, and are educated to a certain level would by default have interesting topics of conversations and viewpoint.
How sadly mistaken I have been. I have come across numerous women in the past few years, who like nothing better than to talk about food, hair, makeup, waxing, manicures, the latest soaps on TV – steering them towards topics involving politics, or analysis of society beyond the oft repeated phrase “times are bad” is a struggle and a half which brings nothing but disappointment at the other end of the effort.
I wonder why they have no desire to talk about the same engaging and sometimes difficult issues I see many of my articulate and intelligent blogging female friends blog about? I realise there needs to be a balance – always discussing cerebral topics can be dry for some, but I personally find them so inspiring and thought-provoking. Of course I can talk about hair, make-up, food but my mind wanders after 2mins of this and I get bored very very easily. And I don’t enjoy such company in the slightest either – which makes it that much more difficult to tolerate and pretend you give a fish about their recent waxing nightmare at the salon.
Although the saying goes you can’t pick your family, but you can pick your friends I wonder when you have slim pickings in the first place can one really be in any position to be so picky?
I applaud this woman for taking the initiative in securing not only a job for herself, but also doing so successfully in the face of all of the obstacles she may have faced (as a Pashtun widow in Pakistan).
Zahida Kazmi has been hailed as Pakistan’s first female taxi driver. She has driven from the crowded markets of Islamabad to the remote tribal country in the north. Here she tells Nosheen Abbas about her two decades in a male-dominated world.
In 1992 at the age of 33, newly widowed Zahida Kazmi decided to take her fate in her own hands and become a taxi driver.
Born into a conservative and patriarchal Pakistani family, she flew in the face of her family’s wishes but with six children to support, she felt she had no choice.
She took advantage of a government scheme in which anybody could buy a brand new taxi in affordable instalments. She bought herself a yellow cab and drove to Islamabad airport every morning to pick up passengers.
In a perilous and unpredictable world, Zahida at first kept a gun in the car for her own protection and she even started off by driving her passengers around wearing a burqa, a garment that covers the entire body.
Her initial fears soon dissipated.
“I realised that I would scare passengers away,” she said. “So then I only wore a hijab [head covering]. Eventually I stopped covering my head because I got older and was well-established by then.”
Exposing herself to the hot, bustling city streets of Islamabad and by driving to the rocky and remote districts adjoining Pakistan’s tribal areas, Zahida says she learned a lot about the country she lived in and its people.
Rest the rest of the article here: http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-south-asia-12680075