Posted in #introvert, #life, A walk into the woods, And she was left only with shattered dreams, Betrayals, Challenges, Dreamy, Fantasy, Hechicera, I see eyes that are cold, lessons, Mirage in the Mist, Relationships, romance, Togetherness, Verses n Rhymes

When the light becomes ‘blinding’

Ray of Light 2Ray of Light

 

A ray of light, they say, is a real hope giver

When in darkness, they say, look for the ray of light

It’s within you, they say, the light’s within you

A single ray of light is enough, they say, just one

When darkness doesn’t perish years of loneliness

The desire to experience one tight hug, just one

The longing to be the one for someone,

That one kiss, that one touch, a caress of passion

And suddenly, there is so much of light,

So much happiness that you feel it’s untrue

But you are so blinded, so blinded by that light

That you couldn’t see the cliff in front of you

It came, the fall that was inevitable

From darkness straight into blinding light

Even the dead see a beautiful shining light, I have heard

Even the dead, even the dead.

 

 

 

 

Posted in #EndViolence, And she was left only with shattered dreams, Betrayals, Challenges, Flame of Peace, Human Rights, I see eyes that are cold, unfair

Abuses will soon become facts

Disclaimer: Please read with an open mind. Healthy debate is acceptable, feud and disrespect is not.

Girl

Day After day, we keep hearing new stories about men abusing, raping, torturing and killing women in India. The extent of frustration is so high that anything, any damn thing with a vagina works for them. Sensationalizing news has now become routine. That which once was considered shameful, obnoxious and inhuman is today so commonplace that we don’t blink an eyelid anymore.

Every rape gets its share of primetime in news channels and print media and these days, online news sites, for a couple of days and vanishes into the throes of dark oblivion.

Every single scream curdles my blood. How do i hear it? Can’t you?

Can’t you hear the screams emerging from the depths of these news stories? How can you not hear them?

A goat? A g.o.a.t?

How in God’s name can the beast hurt a goat like that?

There has to be a line drawn somewhere. Somewhere, by somebody. Law died a shameful death the day Vishakha died. Government never did have a conscience anyways… Neither this one, nor the erstwhile one.

My concern is not that a goat lost her life too. My concern is that it doesn’t matter who it is, Vishakha, Asifa, the numerous infants put to brutal deaths after being “had”, it just doesn’t matter who it is.

IT DOESN’T MATTER TO THEM.

They will push stuff for pleasure into anything and everything. One day will come when the MCs and BCs will no more be called abuses.

The way we are headed, it’s only gloom for the female community in India. As long as lawyers defend perpetrators, we are headed for the gallows.

As long as juveniles get away with adult-like crimes citing their age, we are headed for the gallows.

As long as we don’t legalize prostitution, men will keep forcing themselves on women and robbing them of their modesty.

Prostitution was illegalized by prejudiced minds that couldn’t see dignity in consensual sex. By minds who had no idea that this would unleash horny savage beasts on the roads, in buses, in temples and animal shelters, with uncontrollably raging hormones that will destroy everything to bits, and kill their prey so that there is no voice against them.

Recently, Sonu Nigam came out in the open and put forth his PoV that prostitution should be legalized and there should be compulsory sex education in schools. I finally found a reason to respect him!!

I seriously believe that is part answer to this problem. India has mostly been a conservative country and people are still living in old age days, where women are forced to cover their faces, where honor killing still exists and women are looked upon as submissive creatures in a patriarchic society.

Looking down upon prostitution is sadly a very orthodox way of deeming it an undignified profession. Why? Why can’t we change our mindsets and see it as a profession which involves a great deal of hard work and give it the dignity it deserves? Trafficking is crime – prostitution is just another job.

I am aware of the sensitivity of this subject – however, someone needs to raise a voice. Someone needs to start talking somewhere.

How will these rapes end?

Posted in I see eyes that are cold

I see Eyes that are cold

“I see Eyes that are cold..”
A Short Story
Fiction
“That day, I promised myself that this will happen no more.”
(For Ajit Nambiar ji’s Express Yourself Contest No: 36)

My eyes speak my story. But for the a to z of my suffering, you will have to undergo a journey with me. A journey that will take you through the trials and tribulations of my life. I was a girl similar to you. I smiled and played like you. I had a doll bride and a doll groom too. I would marry them together and clap for their ‘happy’ life.

I never thought it was for me, Marriage. I played with the dolls, but that is where everything stopped. It was all a play. What is marriage? Two people coming to stay together? That’s how I saw it as a girl. I could see fights and violence. I could see abuse.. both physical and verbal. There was mental abuse too. My mom was the victim. It all happened everyday: the beatings, the drugs, the drinks, the abuse, the beatings, the drugs, the drinks, the abuse… It was a never-ending story.

I always wondered why she stayed. She stayed for me. She stayed to protect me. She knew the abuse would transfer upon me if she ever went away. She tried to smuggle me out of the ‘butcher’ house, twice. She failed. More beatings. I started treating myself as the cause of her suffering. I had heard Him say many times, “You are good-for-nothing. You gave me a daughter. What will I do with her?” Was I the reason for his violence? For his hatred? Was I?

My childhood was a blur of tears, mama-hugs and more tears. Life just went by in a haze. And then one day, what I feared most, happened. He hit mom in the head, and she died. She went away. Left me alone. I was scared. I knew he would not have any regrets. I knew he was cold and calculative. I knew he would make sure the world saw it as suicide or accident.

A week after that, in a drug-induced haze, he beat me black and blue. He muttered hateful things about mom. That day, I promised myself that this will happen no more. I refused to be a victim. This would be the first and last time that he beat me. No more will I be the sufferer.
Next day, I packed my humble belongings and left. It was a long hard journey. I had no destination. I just boarded the first bus and then the first train. I knew not, where I was headed. The last stop of the train was Ahmedabad. I was lost in thoughts. Suddenly, everything around me exploded into a ball of flames. This time, I was really lost. The blast had killed many people.

This time, I am no more. I see eyes that are cold.
“Mama! You have come to take me with you! I have missed you so much. I am glad I did not have to wait longer. I am glad I died soon. Now, I can be with you. Come, hold my hand, take me in your lap.”

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Kindly check out this poem by Gopal ji (v-s-gopal)… wise words on life and death, ending with a big laugh! The poem philosophically fits right into this writeup.
Quoting him:”When life comes, death is written on it!
And when death comes, death is written on it!”
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