Super Bowl 2020: Extremity In The Name Of Culture?

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After a great game of an outstanding comeback by Kansas City Chiefs (Vs San Francisco 49ers) in Super Bowl LIV, the crowd seemed to be inclined towards debating a rather isolated issue than the game itself: Was the halftime performance by Hollywood’s beloved superstars Shakira and Jennifer Lopez obscene?

The two set the stage on fire and how! (Although, this might seem to have contradicted the opinion of the majority)

What the audience found and I quote “terribly disturbing”:

The broadcast featured the two stars in costumes showcasing their buttocks, pole dancing and grabbing their crotch multiple times on stage- all interpreted as ruthless objectification of women by two of the most influential women in the world. 

A famous reporter of the Golf Channel even went ahead and tweeted: “Stop dancing on a stripper pole on the biggest stage and then complain about how often we get sexualised.. The hypocrisy of wanting to not be seen as sex symbols but then wearing outfits and choosing overtly sexual choreography has me very confused” 

An audience full of young parents on the other hand had their own issues with regard to how something like THE Super Bowl, an event supposedly aired for all age groups to enjoy could have a performance such as this as if it were the 'new normal’.

The halftime show featuring Shakira and Jennifer Lopez seemed to garner more buzz than the game itself. (What!?) At some point, little children were showcased in cages- all seen as a political statement about President Trump’s immigration policy - but the whole pole dancing and stimulated sex gestures were viewed as most offensive. 

Prolife advocate Abby Johnson tweeted, “On the day of the highest rate of sex trafficking, the NFL says, ‘Hey, let’s have two women dance half naked and get a bunch of zoomed in crotch shots of them. That’s female empowerment!’ Do they have no clue that they just contributed to the commodification of women?” Even though a lot of folks said they loved the energy and called the two Latina’s performances “historic”, the popular opinion seems to have been this: misrepresentation of an entire culture on one of the biggest stages airing worldwide.  

The performance might have not appeared to be “family friendly” to a few but did it deserve a statement as harsh as “This exhibition was Pepsi showing young girls that sexual exploitation of women is OK”?



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THE WORLD INSIDE OF ME

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Well, I always used to ponder over the question, how the world would be if it would be like the one which is inside of me? The free me inside can wear whatever she wants, and she does whatever she wants to do. A place where the happy me, the emotional me, the romantic me, the foodie me, the melodrama-queen me, the oh I am the most beautiful me, the bookworm me, the painter me, the actual free me, all live together.

Well, I always used to ponder over the question, how the world would be if it would be like the one which is inside of me? This thought amuses me a lot, why? Let me take you to a little tour.

My friends call me crazy, not because I am one but because I like to live on my terms. I have many parts of me living inside, they grapple, they wrangle, sometimes it’s like there is a world war going on, but still, it feels great to be lost inside of me, in the world of my imagination.

There was one time when I wanted to explore nature, wanted to be alone for some time, wanted to go on in search of myself at a place far away from this crowd. But asking parents and getting a yes for a solo trip before marriage being a girl is a big task. So all I was left with was one option, sit back on the couch, close my eyes and dream of the place I always wanted to be in.

And there, when I closed my eyes, someone whispering in a sweet melodious voice, with those invisible hands took me somewhere deep inside of me, to a place where I could live forever, a site so peaceful and calm.

After a few moments of relaxation, I was suddenly awakened by another voice, “Ye kya pehen rakha hai, itni choti dress?”, “Ye kaise bethi ho?” , “Itni raat ko bahar kyu ghoom rahi ho?” Again, this brought me back to the real world. Well, most of you girls must be familiar with comments like these. If you could relate, there is always a fear of roaming alone at night, of wearing short dresses, who knows when one will get eve-teased or chased by some creeps standing on the street, around the shops or on bus stands or railway stations.

At least my world has no space for this. The free me doesn’t have to live in fear or by societal rules in there. It’s not like she can’t live like that in the real world, but because somewhere she is restricted by her own family and relatives, she gets judged whenever she does something which is against their or society’s will. After all, society’s happiness is what really matters. Who cares what she thinks?

So, for me if talking to boys and wearing clothes of my choice means I have a bad character then I am happy in my world. If having opinions in this male-chauvinist world means I don’t respect men, then I am happy in my world. If getting judged for every single thing I say then I am happy in my world.

In my world, I am free as a bird with dreams in the eyes, ready for the flight. I can make my own decisions, away from all these bleak promises. I can do all the crazy things of my choice, sit whatever way I like, eat whatever way I want to, without any restriction. The free me inside can wear whatever she wants, and she does whatever she wants to do. A place where the happy me, the emotional me, the romantic me, the foodie me, the melodrama-queen me, the oh I am the most beautiful me, the bookworm me, the painter me, the actual free me, all live together.

Wouldn’t it be amazing to live in a world like that where everyone is freely expressing their own unique talents, everyone is working in harmony, everyone is expressing love?




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The World Inside of Me

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A lush green valley with HAPPY and successful corporate people enjoying sunsets (which, undoubtedly, is the most beautiful part of the day) every evening. A perfect world does exist (in my brain).

Well, this is who I am most of the days (read everyday), inventing a whole new world of oxymorons day in and day out. Women are called complex people for a reason, I guess. But complexity is an integral part of beauty. 

The beauty of a flower always subjugates the gentleness of simple leaves.

I am no different from the ladies making their mark out there. My brain is always finding new ways to fight patriarchy while being subordinated by the closest males in my lives. I want to stay away from all the beauty standards set by people since ages while at the same timr I'm eager to know what's new in the fashion industry. It's impossible for me to make a decision about the length of my hair when I visit a hair saloon. Just like any other person, I daydream of being productive while watching TV and using my mobile phone. I am the protagonist and the antagonist of my story (no other person can be).

Beliefs are what I am made of. They hold my scattered thoughts together. The minute my belief system sees me entering into a world of bizarre thoughts where I feel helpless, it immediately drives me homes to a safer place where everything might not be in the perfect place but I'd be grateful about my family, friends abd achievements (I believe, this is what life is about).

Whenever I see a "Mighty King" on the television infatuated by the sharpness of his sword, I always wonder what the other edge of it might hold. Maybe peace, tranquility and a lifetime of happiness. I forbid going to the extreme points because that is where the problem lies. And I never intend to be perfect but genuine. Trying to reach a middle ground is more of my thing.

Talking about extremities and excluding the digital world would not do justice to our beloved social media. Not a single person is a social media virgin now. We're all addicted to it. In fact, I am a fan of this digital world. And the one thing that I am in absolute love with these days is whatsapp status. One of my friends has "stars can't shine without darkness" as her status, which honestly is beautiful, but also a fact. So are we turning to facts these days to find our daily motivation? Are we comparing ourselves to the sstars of the universe or the legendary stars of our planet. I'll never find out. What I actually know is that our poor souls need a ray of hope to keep going. 

My thoughts are my only proof of my tiny presence in the vast world. Rational, raw, pure, anxious, whichever kind, I can proudly call them mine. They might distract me at times (to be honest, most of the time) but they're the most powerful gifts that I've ever received and I'll keep making my presence alive through them.

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