My Week, My Words — Speaking with Sense, Not Silence
This week left me reflecting on how often clarity is misunderstood.
At times, voices are labelled “loud” not because they disrupt a space, but because they say something that lands—especially when that clarity comes from an unexpected place.
I encountered that last week.
Clinically, it was a heavy week—as many weeks are.
I lost a young girl to the “C” word—the word people hesitate to say, hoping that avoidance might soften reality. It never does.
I also saw an elderly man surrounded by many relatives, yet deeply alone. After a long list of questions and repeated doubts, I asked just one question: Who will stay with him?
The answer was simple.
Not the son. Not the daughter.
A caretaker.
It made me pause—how easily we outsource presence while demanding explanations.
And then there is tuberculosis—the elephant in the room. We cannot wish it away. TB is not being eliminated anytime soon, and pretending otherwise helps no one.
Beyond medicine, the week stirred something more personal.
There remains an unspoken expectation that women should be polite—often meaning submissive. When women are assertive, the label quickly changes to loud.
I am not a feminist in the way people assume. I love being looked after by my father, my brother, my husband. But none of them ever asked me to lower my voice. None of them told me that confidence was inappropriate.
I was taught by my father to speak my mind and to believe that I am enough.
And I am proud to be raising daughters the same way.
When I told my daughter that someone had called me “loud,” she replied without hesitation:
“Who is he to judge you? You are loved. You are brought up right. You are not loud—and you are certainly not less.”
She is right.
So yes—be loud when it is needed.
And always, be proud.
Until next week.💐
— Dr Asmita Mehta