I was thinking if I were to leave this blog alone for a long time, the post I would want seen right on top would be about Dayabai (Mercy Mathew). Almost every day there's a moment when we think we were belittled by someone or something we read on other people's wins of some kind. Some people I've met lately have been saying they dont know what it is they want to do in life and fear they'll end up nowhere and pitied and without the pledge of a man. It should be clear that everyone has an obligation to be a very particular fanatic. Dayabai is someone about whom many herdhumans, who have seen her about her life, feel sorry for. She's about 60 now and with age comes a little immunity from unwanted impressions. But in her 30s40s they thought she was positively deranged - an unmarried woman unaligned to any ideology or political party, club, living in a village she was neither born in, brought to nor invited into. If you watch videos of her you can see how easy it is to pick her weakneses out, you could start with her voice that is almost constantly shakey with poorly managed emotion. This makes me think of a certain opposite a lot of women and men (Jat Club) like to hold up as a model for strength and women: Renuka Choudhary. Strident in everyway: large, loud and commanding. Another moment is enought to deliver up the ghost of stage thrills. Everybody likes a good show; the pity is not knowing the default is masks-off and forgetting lines and mumbling and looking disgraceful and vulnerable. Then again lets be true to ourselves about what it means to be a woman; something that's isntinctively puzzled at the ambition of boxing police officers and outshouting another gender.