Anush Ravindranathan's Blog

I had been waiting for few days for the ocean of emotions to settle down before I write about the death of a house surgeon doctor in Kerala by the hands of a criminal in casualty of a government hospital. Being in the same situation many times in the past (not so much in the present), I could relate to her. So the sadness felt was very personal. Once, ten years ago, when I was doing PG at Kottayam Medical College during my casualty duty a drunkard, double my size, held me so tight while I was suturing his wounds that I could not move, and of course it hurt─ physically and egoistically. I still remember how weak and vulnerable I had felt then. His friends who were also his size helped me out of his grip, and requested me to leave or else he would get more violent. I left as only I and a nurse were there surrounded by these XXX sized three or four individuals who were all drunk, and I didn’t feel safe. I attended him only after he got back to normal. Now, I realize how I was lucky that day.

A young girl who had just finished the under graduation from a private college and was working as a house surgeon─ who might have had dreams about a post-graduation, about serving her patients, about going abroad, or having a quiet life─ was collectively failed by an incompetent system which is least concerned about the safety of doctors. By any standards doctors go out of their way so many times to serve their patients…much more than any other profession. But still, why so much jealousy and hate towards them? One thing all should understand: “Doctors are neither saints nor they are Gods.” They are humans who use their knowledge and experience to treat their patients to the best of individual capability. But still the truth is: treatments may fail and complications may occur. There will never be 100 percentage success rate in medicine practice. I am still to find a single doctor who treats his/her patients saying, ‘Let the treatment fail, who cares. I would get my money and that’s the most important thing.’ But, unfortunately, that’s the kind of image some vested interests in the society are creating, which may be true for some large cooperate houses, or some greedy individuals but, I believe, it’s not true when it comes to most of the individual doctors.

Do you know what the result is? Mistrust between patients and their doctors. And, this leads to defensive medicine. Not the kind of which Health Minister of Kerala expects from the experienced doctors, but where the doctors shy away from taking risk for their patients and refer them to higher centers which are already overburdened with work, or by over investigations. The doctor even though sure about his diagnosis clinically, may still prefer to go for investigations just to prove his/her diagnosis, and document; just in case tomorrow some complication may occur and he/she is held culpable.

Who is the loser? Not just the patient or doctor, but the whole society. Many bright students are leaving the state in all fields fed up of this lack of opportunities and least bothered administration. They can’t see a future for themselves here, not just the beginners but who have practiced for even ten years are leaving. The situation is getting worse and the time is ticking. Normal gimmick of big hollow words by politicians, followed by strike for one day and black badges by associations, or a few candles by confused students and noble citizens is not going to sort the issue. Because if it could, this poor child would not have died. It just happens again, and again, and again!

And, who was this criminal? A UP school teacher who was allegedly involved in Ganja trade. Yikes! Someone whom we may trust more than ourselves for giving values to the children, was selling Ganja to them. Please don’t start beating all teachers around because this one was a bad apple. Doesn’t that expose the flaw of the existing system at the grass root level? How can someone with such a criminal record get incorporated into service as a UP school teacher and continue without anyone’s notice? The menace of drugs is worse than that of alcohol as it is increasing violent crimes, and is not just affecting the family of the addict but anyone who may come in contact with him/her─ the others who were breathing easy until then that the fire is in someone else’s compound.

The first step of solving a problem is: Accepting that there is a problem. Unless all the decision makers agree from their hearts that a problem is there, this condition is going to worsen. For anything to happen, every time, if the High Court has to interfere we have some serious administration problem. Unless the people start trusting their doctors again this is going to repeat. Unless media handles the issues unbiased these incidences will repeat. Not to mention about politicians, they are the people who represent the society and their opinions does get imbibed into people’s mind. Recently a MLA from Kerala had said, ‘Some doctors deserve to get beaten.’ NO SIR, nobody deserves to be beaten at their work place, or elsewhere for that matter, because we live in a place where laws are there and as a responsible citizen you (and everyone else) should motivate others to follow the system, and not instigate them. If anyone has any grievance there are dedicated law channels where they can register their complaints. Violence can never be an answer. The more the situation worsens, both the people, and the state will be losers. Kerala model of healthcare and education which we boast of will be doomed. Until then, may God save his own country!

PS: Eagerly waiting for the new ordinance to come to effect, effectively, and protect medical professionals.

28th August 2022, time 7:00 pm: Most people had left after reunion of our 2005 BDS batch, after one of the most memorable day in the last decade; more than one decade had passed since we met most of our college friends except for a few nearby friends. I bid adieu to Razdan for the third time and started walking towards the car parking when I noted Bindiya, my wife, who had been busy all day smiling and laughing her heart out, had gone in search of Deepa A R to say goodbye for one last time; I joined her. We had never thought saying bye just after a meet up of few hours would be so difficult.

We had planned get together a lot of times in the past after seeing the photos of other batches, but every time something or someone played a spoil sport and we could not meet. And, once (five years ago) when we managed to meet, it was just for two hours, not enough to break the tip of the iceberg of memories. We had concluded that our batch was incapable of coming together for a reunion ─ ‘What a dead batch!’ as Dafniya would say.

Then how did this dead batch come together this time (many more to follow hopefully!)? It all started with a message in our sleepy Whatsapp group from Shafna which followed a message from Nafeesa, ‘Let’s meet.’ As usual, apart from the regular five or ten people who would raise hand on any given day, not many raised hands. Then, with all (including myself) trying to get things as per their convenience, there was debate about venue and dates. After initial hoo- hoo the group went silent again. Were we not interested to meet or relive those memories? At least that’s what Nafeesa had thought when she typed: ‘Come on Guys, such a poor response! Out of 65 in the group not even 10 responded. Why no one is responding? At least say, I am in Gulf, or America, or, I am here but don’t wish to come. Give any response. Was our life at Century Dental College that bad? Didn’t we make some of the best memories of our lives there?’

That was more than what any bunch of friends with love for their college life could have tolerated, so some came forward with any date, any venue message, and others like me fitted in according to the convenience of the majority. Shabeer Ummar, one of those guys in any batch who commands respect because of his personal integrity, said let’s keep up the word that next get together will be held in Kochi, I seconded it. Luckily there weren’t any further arguments. I floated a list saying: let’s start adding name to the list, those who are interested have to type their names by themselves, and we would drop the plan if the count is less than fifteen. Also, I messaged personally to those who seemed interested.

It actually worked, the inhibition in the minds of people began to break and the feel that we are also part of something important crept in. In no time, the count reached twenty and then thirty, and those who couldn’t make it agreed to join via video messages and calls. Razdan, Nevia, and Nissar started with the organising activities, and Wasim came with the name ‘Ormakootu– memories ignited.’ Shameera suggested the venue. Even when the activities in organising group started, the pessimism kept in creeping. Well with our experiences of past attempt who could blame us.

As Paulo Coelho had said in The Alchemist: “And, when you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you achieve it.”

Soon everything started to fall in line, and we finally met on 28th August, 2022 at Nihara Resort, Kochi. 34 friends (excluding families) in person and 17 through videos was the final count. Even the unpredictable rain Gods of Kerala showed mercy for one day (two days later the lobby of the resort was flooded due to heavy rains). Did we have fun?

When we first reached the venue there were only a few people, we shook hands and hugged formally, but the spark of uninhibited pleasure of pure college love and friendship was missing─ the jokes were not laughable enough and the smiles and laughs hardly reached eyes. We waited for almost two hours for everyone to join before cutting the cake. But when the videos and photos, compiled by Bindiya, with background songs of friendship and college day memories were played, the silence took us back to the college. We walked through the corridors and the ground, in and out of hostel and class rooms, spent some time in the labs and clinic, and went to the nearby bakeries and shops. Twenty minutes later, when the lights were switched on, the wet eyes enquired if there were more photos and videos. Unfortunately that was all we could compile on a short notice but, fortunately many more were left for the future reunions. And, when the inhibition begun to fade, we cautiously started breaking the shell of maturity─ exposing the true self─ uncaring for the fact our children were watching us. Now the jokes struck the cord, which reflected when someone said (I had overheard), ‘Oh my mouth is aching, thanks to all the laughs and smiles, I can’t remember when did I laugh so much.’

After the Sadya (traditional Kerala feast on banana leaf), we recollected many more memories; no matter how much we tried to recollect there were thousands of memories which we could not touch upon─ left for until the next time. The fun games which organising team had thought about were rejected by the majority in favour of Dumb Shell Arts, a game where the teams have to predict the name of a movie based on mute actions of a team member. And boy! Did we have fun? The time frozen expressions─ shouting, booing, hooting, teasing, fighting, and laughing─ melted and whatever inhibition left was gone. Thus, we, once again, enjoyed uninhibited pure bliss of college friendship.

When we got on board of the house boat, as Razdan had said, we were Kootharas (the shameless and untidy people) again. We danced like no one was watching, we sang with confidence of a rockstar, we laughed our heart out at the silliest things possible, and we lived life (even though for an hour) the way it was meant to be. So, no wonder when the boat reached the dock there was sudden silence at the realisation that the dream was over─ there was a train to catch, families and in laws were out there, some patient demanded attention, a relentless world which judged was waiting.

We hugged and said goodbyes again and again knowing we had created many more memories to cherish, topped up on the pile of infinite memories which we had left for until next time.

Bindiya and I roamed through the resort and found Deepa, Arifa, Veena, and Aswathy standing faraway near the lake. I raised my hand and called their names, but they could not hear me. For some unknown reason we left without saying anything, maybe it was the realisation that no matter how hard we tried to steal the time from the past, those times which had turned into memories would continue to linger forever as a sweet pain deep inside.

Ours was the last car left in the dark parking area, I stood there staring at the resort which had begun to turn us into the past. The staff may have cleaned up dust of our footsteps, but no one can clear the impressions of the day which were etched in our hearts.

I got into the car and we left. Thank you friends (each one of you) for coming and making the day a most memorable one in my life/our lives.

I walked in the woods, the time was dawn

The dark was yet to leave, and the light had begun to fall

In the silver of flowing water I saw her lying naked

Revealing her beauty─ pristine and divine─ to the one seeking.

I stood there, on the bridge, between the two worlds

The darkness had left, and the light appeared

The water flowed past me, but I stood still

I observed, I prayed, I found succour in her blessings.

In the flow of the silver, and the rocks beneath it

In the green of the woods, and the dark beyond it

In the chirp of the birds, and the cries above it

She lied naked, revealing her beauty─ pristine and divine.

I lusted for her, to make her dance for me

I prayed to her to come and make love to me

I wished for her, all for me

And, then the light dawned on me:

Dare I not touch her, for she will melt away.

-Anush Ravindranathan

I stood on a hill, saw a straight, smooth silky road going as far as my eyes could
see. I treaded the road. The path that I treaded was crossed at different junctions
by a few mud tracks, which had imprints of many familiar feet. The views around
me were so beautiful, I lost my focus and stumbled upon a rock; I fell down.
After few yards, again I slipped down a slope. Then came an uphill part. I
wondered, where is the smooth road?
I decided to turn around and seek asylum in one of the beautiful safe
havens where I had rested along the path. I turned around. To my astonishment,
there was no road, only a few reflections of my past journey were seen. I had two
options to sit down and stay stagnant or to move forward taking the uphill road.
Being restless, I decided to keep on moving. The road led me to many
beautiful valleys, deep craters, slippery dunes, unseen waters, unknown tastes,
mesmerising smells and wonderful creatures. Long way down, I feel I am too tired
to move any more. The road, which I thought was as smooth as silk is never
ending, and ever changing. It has no destination but, the journey.
Now, I realise: it is my life, and the restlessness is my spirit that keeps
me going.
Dedicated to the journey called life, and the untiring human spirit that
keeps it going.

A few days back I had a thought, why do we celebrate any festival? Like I do many times, I tried to find a rationale of my own: through the festivals we celebrate humanity and its undying spirit. History tells us that whenever we were faced with challenges which seemed beyond our capabilities, each time we had come together and raised our capabilities and threshold, and every time we have survived the evil. But, why did I have this thought? It is the reason that I am writing this post.

About three weeks back I had a patient who came with pain and swelling due to a wisdom tooth which was stuck in the bone; we call it Impacted tooth. The patient was educated and seemed to belong to a decent wealthy family. As usual with any enthusiastic young doctor trying to educate his ignorant patient, without knowing the present status of the patient, I told her about the consequences of ignoring such impacted teeth and other problems in her mouth. Patiently, she heard everything and said, ‘I know doctor, I need to get them all corrected.’

‘What were you waiting for, until now?’

‘I shall get them done soon, one by one.’

‘If you are serious about what you have just said then that would be good for you, I have nothing to lose,’ when confronted the patients usually use escapism tactics. Until there is pain, there should be no problem. Worried about the hospital bills, she must have postponed the treatment by taking over the counter medications. And now, when the medications won’t act, she came to me.

Sensing my prejudiced mind, she told me her story.

                Her husband was an automobile mechanic in Saudi Arabia and lost his job about one year back. His employers didn’t even settle his due payment and threatened him with legal action if he pushed for the money. Afraid of getting stuck in a foreign land, he came back empty handed. He could not find a job here and his savings too didn’t last for long. The financial situation of the family worsened. It was about the same time when she first had pain. She admitted that she had ignored the mild pain initially due to fear of visiting a dental clinic, which she heavily regretted now. When her husband was well off in the gulf country he had helped many of his friends. One of whom was now a Panchayat member. The member helped him start a small business of extracting oil from coconut. He arranged whole sale dealers and a small industry which helped him dry and extract the oil. Both husband and wife worked day and night to extract as much oil as possible for them, but there were few takers for their oil as most of the traders had their agents, and would not risk irking them. So the production was decreased and hardly ten to fifteen litres of oil could be sold daily which was not even enough to meet their daily expenses. They withdrew their children from private school and admitted them to Government school.

                Life crawled like that for few months when another lightning hit them- the lock down. Even those few litres of oil daily sold meant ration for them and that too was gone now. They survived on the Government help for one month. She had thought of going for some other job, but her husband stubbornly refused to give up after investing so much energy and time in to it. They had only heard about blessing in disguise until then- the restricted transportation meant shortage of supplies; we Malayalees love coconut oil and can’t do without it, so demand could not be met. The traders agreed to try their coconut oil which proved better in quality and price than the ones they were importing from neighbouring districts and states. Gradually the sales increased to one hundred and fifty litres per day, and they had to hire two women for help. Now, they are planning to start a small independent unit under MSME scheme, the Panchayat member friend has promised every possible help. Although presently they have savings enough to send their children back to private school, they have decided to continue them in the Government school. They are satisfied with the education there. It is the survival in adversities that the children must learn, she told me.

                I did the treatment as needed, and as promised she visited again for the remaining treatments. After listening to her story, I felt moved and felt it must be shared. How adversities turn in to possibilities, is a subject which has attracted the human minds since they existed because it is this mojo of humanity which has helped us survive adversities- time after time, one after another, and from civilisations after civilisations.

                We are passing through a very difficult phase, no doubt. But, there should be no doubt that this too shall pass and together we shall overcome this too. This spirit of ours need to be celebrated, so once again friends- HAPPY ONAM to all of you.

It feels wonderful when someone, whom you admire and look up to understands the effort you have put in to your work and appreciate it.

Thank you Mini Raj.

musings-of-a-fiftyplus

The second book is here in my hands..

My first thoughts are simply of awe ! I turn to the last page .. an old habit to see the book-is-about and see this picture of my brother and the awe thoughts transforms into a thoughts of pure envy ! I quickly come out of the envy mode and turn to the Preface page to find myself happy .. theek hai acha hai ! Then I move to the dedication page to read what he has written in here.. and then the feeling is of marvel set in! Such awesome thread of thoughts he has put in – I love that phrase – ” The road which i thought …. had no destination but the journey. ” Congratulations dear Akku !!

I know publishing a novel is a cup of tea not everyone gets to drink .. !

Anush Ravindranathan wrote…

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Often we hear people say, ‘behave responsibly and not like a child’ or ‘please behave according to your age.’ As I had stated once before in one of my blogs, No Formalities Please, we should behave like children many times in our lives. The way they speak and act innocently, we have a lot to learn from them.

Yesterday when I was playing with my three year old son, some random game in his imaginary world (the corona effect that we have more time for family and children), I was a poisonous snake following him in to the jungle. He ran for his life as the poisonous serpent followed him.

After a long chase, he was cornered against a big rock. he had no where to go and the monster snake had him at its mercy. The snake laughed aloud like any traditional villain would do and hissed. The child was scared and cried for mercy, ‘One minute dear good snake, I need to tell you something.’ (These are not his wordings exactly but close to what I have understood from his babbled speech; mothers and grand mothers are experts in translation)

But, the monster would not listen anything. The snake hissed again and jumped on to the poor child. All of a sudden the child pressed a magic button and he turned in to a jumping spider, and climbed on to the top of the rock. The snake’s head got smashed against the rock and snake became unconscious.

I was lied on the bed head down and said, ‘Unni! the bad snake is lying unconscious and bleeding. You have won (he always wins). Now, what are you going to do?’

‘I am going to put bandage on to the snake’s head and take it to hospital. Now, the snake has become a noble one,’ he said without a second’s wait and rubbed his tender soft hands on to my forehead.

I sat on the bed and didn’t say anything for some time. ‘Oh, is that what happens in your world? In my world we would have killed the snake or ran away leaving it to die.’ Of course I didn’t say this to my child. I just said, ‘Good Boy! Thank you so much.’

I kissed him on his head. He pushed me, wiped away the kiss (only his mother has the right to kiss him, all others are trespassers) and looked at me wondering what was that for. I smiled and kissed him again, and he wiped it off, again.

I have something important (I believe) to tell, something which we all are aware of but somehow, again and again, ungratefully and conveniently prefer to ignore. But, before that let me tell you a story.

Once upon a time, there was a village called Itihaspura, a historical place, settled at the bank of a tiny yet ferocious river called Taaj (Crown). It was a beautiful place with plenty of greenery, life abundant with chirping of birds and cries of animals. There were one hundred and ninety five houses in the village. The farthest from the bank of river, towards the west, was the house of self proclaimed village head, a double stored house- the White One. The village had a strong social structure with migratory population adding to this diversity. The people of the village, who were born privileged, never realized the good luck they were blessed with.

However, the beautiful village was endangered by the river, infamous for its violent temper. Many years ago, the elders used to tell, the floods in the river were very common, which destroyed the agriculture and lives of people. This continued until their grandfathers, during their ruling years, decided to build a stone walled barrier all along the length of the river. The barrier served its purpose very well; the floods were reduced in frequency and intensity, many lives were saved. The village people were very grateful to the decorated barrier in the initial years. Later after many years, when the incidences of flood decreased consistently, they became, a little, less grateful. The wall was neglected resulting in weakened structures and pores; the grandchildren didn’t believe in spending a lot on the maintenance of a wall which was not deemed relevant in the present times. They ignored the water which had begun to seep in through the pores.

One day a part of the wall went down crumbling on to a few people who stood underneath the wall; they all were crushed to death. The wall was cursed and blamed for the death of the innocent people, easily forgotten were the hundreds of lives it had saved. The boisterous head of the village announced that it was wastage of money to spend on this killer wall. So they stopped the funding and boycotted the wall.

They didn’t realize that the wall over the years had become a living entity which yearned for the love and support of his people. As the curses and neglect grew, the wall became weaker and weaker.

One fine day when the water level in Taaj grew, without any further warnings, the wall collapsed- all of it. It was a dark gloomy night, darker than usual. Taaj laughed, a murderous laughter, and revengefully washed away the remaining wall. Then she proceeded to wash away the people and the village, laughing aloud her bone chilling cruel confident laughter. This time the fervor was more vengeful; she carried with her the fury of all these years.

Without the savior wall, it was a battle the villagers could never win.

Itihaspura, thus became a historic place- forever.

Now, coming to my point: Please do not socially boycott or ignore the needs of medical professionals and their families and everyone who are involved in fighting the pandemic disease, COVID-19. The news of, even a few, violence and social boycotting due to fear of them being carrier of Corona virus demoralizes not just the person involved but the whole community. Its true that some of them might have got the disease but just remember how they got it. They got infected because they were still working in the hospitals and outside with limited resources, attending patients like me and you, not just Corona cases, knowing very well that they might get affected. All they need is our support and compassion. They too have families. They are not doing it for any personal benefits or medals; some of the paramedic staff are working for as low as 10000 rupees a month. The very moment when help was most needed the funding to WHO remains suspended; a scapegoat to hide the inefficiencies of the ruling class.

Please don’t curse the wall to the extent that it may collapse without any further warning because then it will become a direct battle between us and the Corona.

Without the savior wall, it is a battle we could never win.

Note: Cheta or ettan are suffixes used in Malayalam language as a mark of respect to elders.

“Cheta, Shekharettan from the egg shop was telling me that our Leader, the mightiest one, has asked all of us to remain indoors for the next twenty one days. All modes of transport shall be stopped, borders would be sealed and only restricted emergency movements shall be allowed,” Kalyani said little apprehensively. She knew that her husband’s mood was not good these days. They were lying down on their cot after dinner in their modest house, waiting for sleep fairy to visit them.

No reply.

“What are you thinking cheta?”

“Nothing,” Satyan turned around, showing back to Kalyani.

“He was telling that the leader had said it was a war like situation. People are calling it world war-III.”

Kalyani was 10th pass. She was a socially aware and responsible lady. But, to have knowledge about previous two world wars would have been expecting too much from her. She was a skillful tailor and good cook.

“Member had visited me at the tailoring shop and said I should make a thousand clothed masks using old clothes and bed sheets. Also, I should join community kitchen to help them feed many jobless and homeless.”

“Hmm…” Satyan was a man in his forties. He had grey hairs which were recently cropped. Equally grey were his beard. They were married for twenty four years now, they didn’t have children.

“Shekharettan has said that he will donate a hundred eggs every week to the community kitchen. But, the member seemed a little disappointed, she was probably expecting more from him.” Shekharettan and Kalyani had neighbouring shops at the junction of three roads near the bus stop.

“Politicians always expect poor people to contribute, so that they can loot their expenses from the public funds. Rascals,” he still had his back to her.

“Ayyo! Don’t say so cheta, the member has told that all the people of the state will be provided free food and ration for the three weeks of lock down.”

“Of course, its on your way from the heavens. Keep your doors open,” he mocked her.

“How was the day cheta? Did you have any customers? Did you sell any tyres?”

“No sales. A couple of punctures, that’s it.”

Satyan had a tyre work-shop on the highway. He also had a small business of tyre sales and re-threading of tyres with one of his friends. The business was already badly affected as the vehicle movements were restricted for the past two weeks. Now, with complete lock down, he was getting desperate.

Kalyani sensed it but, out of habit she continued, “I am thinking of bringing home my machine from shop tomorrow. We should contribute in whatever little way possible, shouldn’t we Cheta?”

“You do as you please. I have already done my bit today. I repaired a puncture for an ambulance, free of cost. The driver offered me three hundred rupees, but I refused,” Satyan lied in a cold blunt tone; he had accepted the money.

Kalyani placed her warm hand over Satyan’s shoulder, pressed it gently and assuringly.

“We will overcome this cheta, surely. Our leader was telling on radio that these were very difficult times for all, and we should fight this together, all of us.”

“The leader of yours is full of gimmicks, and there are plenty of foolowers who follow him blindly.”

“Our Leader! At least these foolowers are trying to help people unlike hypocrites who preach high morals and sit idle.”

“I don’t wish to be a hero. I wish to survive somehow and then die. I have no great ambitions. So, please excuse me. I wish to sleep now.”

“Lock the door for twenty one days, don’t step out, and you will be a HERO.”

“Yes surely. Your uncle will bring us food and necessary things, isn’t it?”

“Relax cheta! Everything will be taken care of. Don’t worry and have trust.”

“I neither have trust nor do I have much hope. I wish to sleep now. So, no more discussions.”

“Cheta, some people are working very hard, day and night, to get us, people like me and you, out of this dreadful situation. We should appreciate it, and support them; at least don’t mock them. If you don’t wish to be a hero, its okay, but, please don’t be a villain,” Kalyani too turned around.

“I know what to do, okay, don’t preach. Shut up and sleep,” Satyan said definitively.

Kalyani’s last said words had hit Bull’s eye. During all this conversation Kalyani was trying to make a point. This outburst meant that she had hit exactly where it was intended. She smiled, and slept.

Midnight, Kalyani opened her eyes to the sound of a bike moving out of their compound. She looked over her shoulder, Satyan was not there. She closed her eyes and slept.

Satyan stopped his bike under a tree, on the highway, two kilometers from his work-shop. Using his mobile torch and a wooden plank, he removed the dust and dried mud from the road sides. Along with the dust and mud, he also removed the nails which were placed beneath.

He repeated the same at three other places.

I wish all the women happy women’s day. Personally I don’t believe in a particular day but the cause associated with the day should continue throughout the year and lifetime.
Wish you all a lifetime full of self respect and respect from others in your life, along with your known strength of compassion and hard work.
The key to such respect, I believe, is economic independence. the women who are educated and those who are skilled must go for work and be independent financially, at least for there own needs so that no one can take them for granted. If you wish improvement in your life, you should be able to take a stand and help in decision making, which is only possible if you are in-charge of your own life, at the least. Such an empowered woman would see to the eventual upliftment of her family and the society.
Also, having self respect does not mean disrespect towards opposite sex, it will only hurt the cause. There can not be a generalised hate towards men; it shall drive away the men who support the cause. The men who realise that their success and happiness is the result of multiple sacrifices, prayers and support of the women in their life, be it his mother or wife or sister or a best friend.
Once again, wishing all the women a lifetime full of happiness, respect and success they deserve.

Anush Ravindranathan.