My Diary Pages

Who else can teach a young boy about the meanings of 'consent' and 'harassment' better than his own mother? (Image credit: Pixabay) I came across an interesting article in The New York Times last month about a group of mothers defending their sons who had been accused of sexual assaults at college campuses. In the U.S., the guidelines on campus sexual assaults had been pretty stringent so far. However, these guidelines have been blamed to presume the accused students as guilty, who are usually suspended or expelled from the college campuses for a certain amount of time. Needless to say, most of the accused are men.   These mothers are on a mission to save their sons who, they believe, were “wrongly accused.” As protective mothers, they had compelled the college authorities to relook into their sons’ charges. Some of them consider themselves as feminists and hold opinions that how girls today have misconstrued the definition of sexual assault.   ...

I fumed over my cup of coffee. It was a beautiful sunny day outside but my day had not started on a happy note. To start with, I had a big fight with a man over a silly towel he kept on the bed. The plumber was taking his time to fix the broken faucet in the kitchen. I had to rework on the files sent to my boss yesterday and I was already running late for work. A nagging headache was the cherry on top. So, here I was staring at the ceiling, listening to the seconds ticking by, and holding a hot cup of coffee. The coffee was the only good thing in this morning, or so I thought. "This too shall pass," I consoled myself.  After a grumpy day, I was back in my kitchen, making dinner. My favorite songs were playing on the laptop. I had decided to give a cold shoulder to the man in question. After all, he and his silly towel were the reason for my bad morning. The elephant in the room was a five letter word: SORRY. Neither of us wanted to budge and say sorry. Saying sorry m...