Friday, 8 March 2019

LET ME INTRODUCE MYSELF


Hi! I am an opinionated feminist woman,
But I am not too sure if I should always speak my mind
I have been told men don’t appreciate women like me
I am so young and I have no business being socially aware
Ultimately, cooking skills, cleaning skills and pleasing skills
Yes, those three, they will get me married to a nice guy
A guy who cares about his family and listens to his mother
While wanting a wife who would always just listen to him
A guy who cannot make a simple cheese sandwich himself
But could ask me to go make one if I dare open my mouth

Hi! I am an opinionated feminist woman
But I am not too sure if I should always speak my mind
According to our society, my clock seems to be ticking
And a PhD will lower my chances of landing a groom
Intelligence intimidates and deters prospective mates
And if I turn them off, what’s the purpose of me living?
It is okay to zip my mouth and spread my legs for men
For any problems, I have the pillows I can scream into
They say it’s ok if my man abuses me verbally or physically
And they tell me it’s offensive to say this is fucking wrong

Hi! I am an opinionated feminist woman,
But I am not too sure if I should always speak my mind
The other gender seems to constantly give me this cold stare
That says my knowledge of current affairs is unnecessary
Coz what do I know really? Wait, am I even supposed to?
After all, my gender is not made for intelligent dialogue
I should be thankful that I am allowed to do some things
I have the freedom to use social platforms and the internet
But I should remember it’s fine till I post beautiful pictures
I am made to satiate the eyes, the body, but not the brain

Hi! I am an opinionated feminist woman,
But I am not too sure if I should always speak my mind
Like I was saying, I use the internet to write about stuff
So the other day I posted my concern about a possible war
The next day I saw rape threats pouring into my messages
I was the flesh the angry sons of the land wanted to tear apart
Somehow the patriots thought I was an easy target for them all
After all I have a vagina and their penises are the greatest threat
Twitter did not find anything problematic in this attack I faced
But my mother did, and lost a few nights of sleep over my safety

Hi! I am an opinionated feminist woman
But I am not too sure if I should always speak my mind
You know I have a list of people who hate me now
People who detest me, people who can’t stand me
Back in childhood, I was extremely shy and very silent
Everyone seemed to be very fond of that quiet little girl
I guess they wanted me to never change, much like a doll
One they could play with, and throw away when bored
But Surprise! I do have a voice, I also think and express
Do I no more qualify as oh-so-adorable and oh-so-sweet?

Hi! I am an opinionated feminist woman
But I am not too sure if I should always speak my mind
For we were all born only to lower our heads and serve
Born to live as objects of lust and objects of pleasure
Yes! You got it right. You finally recognize who I am now
I am the very subject of your pseudo-intellectual humor
And you know what makes my life even more interesting?
I play the lead role in stories you write to mask your hypocrisy
I do get 9 days of Navratri and a day in March as compensation
All I have to do is “shut up” and accept the privilege with a smile! 😊

Friday, 28 September 2018

CODE RED




Stay away from this, it is a bit too dirty,
Rip off her dignity, she’s really not worthy..


Pain is her destiny, thus she must endure,
Don’t you dare touch her, she is now impure..


She should stay in, please leave her alone,
She will writhe in distress, and she will moan..


Let’s enjoy and be merry, the diety is here,
But keep her away, from all this fanfare..


Offerings should be made, with sheer perfection,
Her mere touch, will spoil all the preparation..


We worship one, and we shame the other,
Doesn’t matter, daughter, wife, sister or mother..


No entry in the temple, oh that is forbidden territory,
Her body is a temple too, but that is another story..


One temple loses sanctity, if you let her venture,
The other is your property, just feel free to enter..


She gives you a baby, it carries the family name,
But her femininity, that is a matter of such shame..


It is that time of the month, when it is all red,
Yes it’s her vagina, it is her vagina that has bled…










Sunday, 29 October 2017

BLACKOUT.

I open my eyes to the ting tong ting,
The unpleasant alarm going off again,
Sleep leaves me a bit too worn out,
Have to get to work, though it’s such a pain..

Mundane defines my everyday routine,
I struggle with making sense of things,
What should I look forward to anyway?
Nobody knows what the next day brings..

Wherever I go, there are people all around,
But I wonder why I always feel so alone,
I shall always be there for you they have said,
But is anything said ever cast in stone?

As I tread through the monotonous day,
I am grappled by despair and hopelessness,
I fear I am coming on too strong sometimes,
But trust me, I cannot help being in distress..

Will things ever fall in place as they should?
Will I ever comprehend what is happening to me?
I am desperate to make sense of things around,
But please just leave me the way I want to be..

The cacophony of the noises I live amidst,
And the eerie silence that constantly screams,
They hold me like a bird suffocated in a cage,
I am fighting my inner demons it seems..

It’s all about confusions and perplexities now,
Through a dungeon I am struggling my way out,
Like coffees gotten cold and projects incomplete,
Unfinished sentences represent my perpetual doubts..

I wish to scream my heart out to this universe,
But my energy serves me a ruthlessly cold betrayal,
I am looking for answers to my internal conflicts,
But I find myself in a state of thorough denial..

Could I please request for a present this birthday?
A box full of reasons to be happy from within,
‘Coz emotionally drained wouldn’t quite explain,
The broken state I have for very long been in..

Could you just come and hold my hand once?
And disengage me from the mess I look like,
Just hold me close when I am facing a breakdown,
Tell me the calm will follow and the chaos will subside..

Every face I come across on the streets and subways,
Reflects a tale that’s a little real and a bit too raw,
Strangers suddenly appear all too familiar to me,
They can read through the tears my folks never saw..

I come back home to what feels like emptiness,
Customary gestures don’t alleviate my pain,
I try hard, very hard, to get past through the void,
But I fall deeper into the gloomy abyss again..

Tomorrow is a brand new day, a new ray of hope,
Tomorrow the sun might brighten up the skies,
But for now I shall find comfort blacking it all out,
I feel too weak to even quit, slowly I shut my eyes...


Wednesday, 10 May 2017

I love when it RAINS...

I love when it rains... 💧

Sometimes, when it gets a bit too much to handle, even the skies turn grey. The clouds let out a thunder in unison, releasing the seething pressure within. What follows is a raging storm that feels like someone was struggling to deal with a gamut of emotions that turned into an uneasy sensation in their belly. The wind is brazen, unabashed and raw, much like a prisoner fighting bondage with all his might. Don't we all wish to be released, sometime or the other? Released from the clutches of anxiety, helplessness, fear, expectations and the compulsive need to get it right always? Suddenly, the clouds let out a groan and the sky lights up for a second. The lightening is what illuminates the darkness around, even though temporarily. To me, that is much like a "ray" of hope too. It is almost an assurance that darkness will eventually fade away. The eerie silence all around makes more noise than the thunder. Well, isn't it scary when the voices inside your head become a bit too audible? You realize how cluttered your thoughts are. You realize the mess you have turned out to be. It is daunting if nothing else. And for this very reason, I find the storm more comforting than the calm that interrupts it. It is the storm that helps me shut it all out, at least for a little while. It is strange how numbness can actually bring you the peace you have been craving for. It pushes out, all that is pent up inside. And then, it starts to pour. Tiny drops of water make their way down, leaving everything moist and glistening. They make the clouds feel lighter. Tears serve a similar purpose too. When it gets difficult to hold everything in, they trickle down from the corners of the eyes, onto the face, somewhat washing away the discomfort, leaving you with glistening cheeks and a lighter heart. Why doesn't it rain more often? It makes me feel I am not the only one and that it is absolutely okay to groan, scream or cry when you do not know what else to do. It helps me embrace my imperfections, pull myself together and remember to trust the flow. It helps me accept myself for who I am. It makes me feel more alive. It liberates me in a way that can be felt, but not one that can be described in words. It brings me closer to my soul that is definitely scarred but hasn't given up on this world yet.

I love when it rains... ðŸ’§

Wednesday, 22 March 2017

Annual Privilege Coupon for WOMEN :)

I step out wearing a dress with my lips painted red,
Doesn’t she look a little slutty, they murmur..


I have coffee with a guy, hang out with my male colleagues,
They do not take a second to question my character..


I shouldn’t be so friendly & comfortable with men unknown,
But marrying a complete stranger is tradition they tell me..


What’s wrong with single women having a sexual partner I ask,
They call my freedom of thought something too immoral..


If I sleep with someone, what I actually lose is my virginity,
But they relentlessly blame me for I lost my honour too..


Men I work with, want me to give everything my best shot,
But they reduce me to just nothing dare I speak my mind..


My salary cheques are testimony to my hard work & potential,
But they laugh at the mere idea of me managing my money..


I want to make my career and marry post the age of 30 I say,
Too much ambition is not good for girls they remind me..


When I put my foot down against the concept of dowry,
They gasp at how huge a burden I am on the entire family..


If I decide to be a mother and working woman at the same time,
They ridicule me for my total disregard for motherhood..


When I say I wish to be a home-maker post marriage & kids,
They openly mock my supposed lack of aim in life..


Whether I work or not, my home should be my first responsibility,
This doesn’t apply to my husband though, is what they say..


I must wear the vermillion as a mark of a wedded woman,
The husband having an affair, is not a big deal I am told..


My vagina has the ability to give birth to a human being,
But when it bleeds each month, I am impure, they declare..


If I am carrying my husband’s child, I should proudly flaunt,
But physical marks of his abuse must be under cover I am warned..


It doesn’t matter if I am thin or fat, doesn’t matter if I am fair or dark,
They never miss out on a single opportunity to body shame me..


Every day I am insulted, mocked, abused, tortured, raped,
But keeping shut is what preserves my dignity they say..


I ask for the liberty to live my life that way I wish to,
But they constantly tell me what to wear and how to live..


When I tell them these shackles suffocate me a bit too much,
You were born to live in bondage, is what they retort with..



I have an yearly coupon that comes with a 24-hr expiry though,
I am showered with love & gifts, my existence celebrated,
They give me the privilege to feel happy & special for a while,
I don’t need it but they give me an annual “Women’s Day.”

Wednesday, 22 February 2017

~SAAWAN~

Saawan ka wo ek din tha, jab tumse nazren chaar huin. Aisa laga jaise aasmaan se ghane kaale badalon ka saaya chat raha ho. Meri ruh ne mujhse kaha ki shayad zindagi ko maksad mil gaya hai. Bahar bahut zor ki garjanaa hui par mere andar ke sukoon ki goonj ko dabaa na paayi. Roshni dheere dheere alvida keh rahi thi, maano mere ghamo ko sath liye ja rahi ho. Wahan bijli kadki aur yahan mere dil me ek aawaaz uthi. Jis rah se ab tak akeli guzar rahi thi, us rah par jaane kahan se ek humsafar mil gaya tha. Hawaa ne apna rukh badla aur apne thande jhonkon se un sookhi pattiyon ko sehlaaya. Wo meethi sarsarahat, hamari khamoshi, aur nazren jo lafzon ki mohtaaj na thi, sabne milkar mausam ko khushnuma bana dia. Saawan ki wo pehli pehli boonden chehre ko chookar mere aanchal me aa giri. Ya fir shayad wo khushi me behte aansoon the, kise pata. Tumhaare ehsaas ne meri zindagi ko aise mehkaya tha jaise geeli mitti mehek rahi thi. Main yun jee uthi jaise baagon me phool khil rahe ho. Man me tarang jagi jaise kisi ne bediyan khol di ho. Shayad bandhishon ki ek kaid thi jisme ghut rahi thi ab tak. Tumne aakar riha kia aur us khuli hawa me udte panchiyon ki tarah maine bhi khulke saans li. Kaaynaat ka koi tohfa the shayad tum. Tumhare aane se dil ki banjar zameen phir ek baar zinda ho gayi. Pyaar ki us baarish se kismat ka wo dhundhla aaina saaf ho gaya.
Par barsaat ke mausam ko badalna hi tha. Nahi jaanti kyun, par tumhe mujhse door jaana hi tha. Chod toh gaye ho mujhe us raste par. Lekin wo waqt bhi door nahi jab sooraj ki kirano ko kaale baadal firse apni chaadar me samet lenge aur zindagi phir apni baahen failaye khadi hogi us mod par. Bas thoda aur intezaar hai. Tumhari raah dekhna meri fitrat ban chuki hai aur mujhe aake thaam lena tumhaari aadat. Main sookhi mitti hun jise bhigaaye bina tumhari boondon ka wajood hi adhoora hai. Milungi main tumse phir ek baar, saawan ke usi ek din, sheher ke us paar...


R

Wednesday, 7 September 2016

What am I?

Penned down a few words today. I am sure most of you will identify with some bits at least. This is inspired by the realization that the day you feel a bit too lost, is the day you embark upon a new journey! :)

~What am I?~
I am nowhere. I am the emptiness that encloses the screeching silence. I am a gap waiting to be filled. I am a void, a vacuum, shadowed by nothingness. My name drowns in the worldly noise that surrounds me. My identity is undergoing constant metamorphosis. It changes at a speed that is beyond my reach. I am the pause that follows a question. I am the blank that precedes an answer. I am like a semi colon, waiting for this universe to complete my unfinished sentence. I am neither here nor there, neither mine nor anybody else’s. I am the curiosity in the eyes of people barging into my personal space. I am the uncertainty that makes my gut cringe. I am the inner fold of a tunnel that doesn’t know where it leads to. I am like the waiting river, yearning to become one with the sea. I am the hollow of a peephole. I am the unending journey of a wanderer, the strangled dreams trying to catch their breath. I am the consequence of my choices, more wrong than right. I am the challenging responsibility of my complex decisions. In this world of pretention, I am the struggle of being real. I am the protest against the society, the black mark of rebellion. I am the raw interior underneath a flashy exterior. I am like the edges of aimlessly flowing hair. I am but a moment, so crucial yet so transient. I am the restlessness that pulls me down. I am the darkness that accompanies the light. I am the hindrance in my own path. I am the test of my actions, the face of my mistakes. I am what crumbles and falls, in the hope of being put together. I am the pieces of an unsolved puzzle, mysterious and daunting. I am fear and despair. I am the calm, but only the one that enrages a storm. I am the quiet and the hush. I am the blur that separates solitude from loneliness. I am the blinking cursor, brimming with words yet to be spilled. I am a new page, untouched, maybe unnecessary. I am the last drop of ink, significant for a second and a waste the next. I am the long queue, with ill defined beginnings and endings. I am the threshold, pressurized from all sides, waiting to break free. I am a conflict, far from resolution. I am an unexplored terrain, adventurous and forbidden. I am the unsure smile and the fading pain. I am the glistening eyes of someone who dared. I am like the flickering bulb, forced to light up but heading towards a blackout. I am but a string of full stops...........
But, I still am. I exist. I survive. And sometimes, this is all that matters. Sometimes, just being is all that is needed. I am my own meaning, my own destiny. I am searching for my soul and in this quest, someday I will find myself.

R