Kya is thartharati kalam me koi kavita hai Jo sabko sunane se darte ho? (is there something within you, a poem that you fear to say aloud?)
Kya is hichkichati zaban me koi shayari hai jisse tum farmane se darte ho? (is there something you wanna tell others but always hold back?
Is there a magic spell on your tongue that you fear to cast?)
Kya in nazre bachati ankon me koi nazariyan hai jisse sabko dikhane se darte ho? (Do you have perspective, a way of looking at things,
a lens through which you look at things but fear to make others see through it?)
Kya is safar mein koi aise nazare hai jinnki tasvir tum dikhane se darte ho? (is there an experience or a picture from the past that you fear showing others?)
Yeh toh har kisi ki kahani hai Magar kya inki tarah tum bhi iss baat ko apnane se darte ho? (This is everyone’s story But like them do you too fear to accept this? )
Isn’t it surprising?
A person who has spent all her life in silence
will go through it all
Physical and mental pain
Yet not say a word
Not even mumble a thing
The same person would
Raise their voice and
for the slightest discomfort caused to her loved ones
Where does this strength come from?
How does a person who hasn’t spoken a word for years
sing a battle cry?
Is it the fear of seeing your loved one suffer?
How surprising is it to see love strengthen somebody
To give birth to their inside warrior
The one who didn’t speak for years for herself
Yes, that sleeping warrior
What is it Mariam Jo that makes somebody so fearless?
Is it really possible to love someone like you did?
As I struggle to get myself out of this cage
where I put myself
where I torture myself with questions
which don’t mean anything anymore
Or never did! Questions from hypothetical situations which never did or never will ever occur as I try to pick myself from the pith of my thoughts for which only I am the one responsible The hell that I created in my head
where I have the ability to grow flowers
To change the world
To work for a better tomorrow
To do whatever I wish to
I choose to use it to bury bodies
to create barren lands
create storms of negativity
hurricanes of unnecessary thoughts
What have I done to myself? I often ask
And try to seek the solution of this from others
the exit of this hell that I try to find
When I know the answer is right in front of me
Only I have the power to stop this
But will I be able to do it?
Only if I wish to!
There are millions of people living on this planet some successful,
some even more and some not at all,
Some aspiring to be something, some losing hope,
All of them living their own stories
When compiled we all become a part of the story of this universe
The more you contribute the bigger part you become of that story
Some get chapters to their names
while for some just a couple of lines
But does that really matter? There are stories of hundred pages But there’s always that one line that you can’t stop yourself from highlighting And makes you feel like a part of it
I wanna be that part in the story of this universe
It is not necessary that everybody likes the same part of a story
I’d wanna be a part that I will highlight, memorize, and copy a million times in my diary
And for that,
It is certain that I will experience
But in the end It’ ll could be a Happy Ending (Can not be sure of that, can we?) But in the end, it’ ll all be well
I was touched and knocked on the floor
There is no place where i could go for justice
Because there is no door
I have suffered the same pain as other rape victims
But my wedding, is the problem
The only thing I can get in the name of justice is Divorce
because they think it’s the remedy of the pain
The justice I deserve
I still ask myself where was I mistaken and where did I go wrong
The only people I thought who would understand were other women
but its something they have been through too
You know what is weird? These men have made them believe that its not a crime
Its a husband’s right
From the day of marriage everything a women posses becomes the husband’s property: Her body, her dreams, her aspirations, her choices……. this list is never ending
They have made them believe this too
I pity them because unlike me they don’t realise that they have been wronged
they endure this thinking that its okay, “because marriage requires compromises” Is what they have been taught
A right that these men get over our bodies right from the day of our marriage
Because to them marriage is a contract for irrevocable sex
What’s that? It’s just something you have in fairytales
(Sadly we didn’t get it there either)
They say its not rape,
because once you’re married there’s no reason to say NO
They also say it cannot be criminalised
as it would be tough to establish the existence of consent.
Ever thought who they are?
They are just some men who are lead by patriarchy
who fail to understand the difference between women and objects.
Do not judge their qualifications, they include the illiterate ones and the highly qualified ones too because while procuring the knowledge over the most complex issues, they failed to learn the basic concept of equality and respect.
They say a wife will be safe because her safety is of primary importance to her husband, isn’t this what all the religions include in their wedding vows,
but who will save them if the saviour itself is the monster?
Dear Kings of Patriarchal Castles,
The next time you look at your wife make sure you remember this!
Marriage is an institution not an arrangement
Marriage is not a permit for you to sexually abuse her
Marriage is not a contract and she is not a consideration
Marriage is everything you both mutually decide it to be and not your arbitrary decisions
Marriage is an institution based on the pillar of love, understanding and trust but the foundation, it is the promise to stay together and support each other in every odd, every problem and adversity everyday for the rest of the life.
It means to protect each other and not hurt each other!
It means to adjust at times for other person’s happiness but that does mean to sacrifice your dignity and personal autonomy!
It all began with a wish
of being rich, wealthy, powerful But where did it end? was it a happy ending? How would I know I was blinded by the greed Thinking one day I will have enough, enough for me to fulfill that one wish but did that ever happen? No, because I perpetually kept asking for more and more and more Little did I know that this would be a drug A drug that would be the end of my happiness Because no matter how much I get I want more It is when I encountered a jovial man I asked, “how much is it that you have to have such glistening eyes?” To which he replied with content “I am not rich, but I am satisfied” Only then I realized I had fulfilled the wish for which this all started long back The only thing that wasn’t fulfilled was my greed.
They say you must not judge a book by its cover
But is it really possible for us to not judge people at all?
Isn’t it important for us to look at people and make an opinion
to keep us away from bad company
Because maybe reading a book and realizing it isn’t good in the last chapters won’t make a lot of difference
But that’s not the same with human beings
Being with a wrong person can be disastrous
We must not judge a book by its cover
but we must make a temporary opinion about people
on the basis of their deeds, behavior, vibes, communication, energies, perspective, portrayal, the way they treat others
You can know them better and always laugh upon your 1st draft opinion (which you must keep with yourself until too sure!)
but till you know them, its better you watch out!
Always remember however bad a book is, never spread rumors about it
Maybe the book which you did not like could be someone’s favorite
Let others decide for themselves, you take prudence for yourself and try finding your book!
-Sometimes books with the worst reviews have the best stories to tell!
Failure is a Motivation in life
it does not pamper you like other people
but it tests you,
hard enough to make you step out of your comfort zone
But failure is a motivation only when you don’t stop after that failure, rather you keep going
So, if life is a mirror
Failure is a broken mirror
The only thing it is useful for is to take a lesson and be more prudent next time
And don’t dwell on it or keep it there for too long
You might step on it and hurt yourself and
bleeding with guilt and regret after a failure doesn’t help in healing So the broken mirror, It is just there to teach you a lesson you must learn After which you must clean it up and focus on making a new mirror with old lessons!
To the person whom world muses as an institution of perfection,
Isn’t it tiring to be expected to be correct all the time?
To know everything?
Don’t we forget that she is a human before being a mother?
It’s her first time being a mother too and even if it’s not she can’t be blamed for being imperfect!
A mistake without a bad intention is forgiven everywhere
In every shrine
But for mothers?
It is often wrapped in questions instead
“How could you not know?”
“What kind of a mother are you?”
She is still trying to find the answer to these questions the world imposes on her,
What kind of mother are you?
And sometimes she has the answer (the one which the world hasn’t heard of!)
‘A Human Mother, the one who makes mistakes and learns from them’
A Mother who maybe once or many times didn’t understand what was wrong with the child; or
What the child meant to say; or
What was happening to him…..
And who gave us the right to decide if she failed or passed at being a mother?
Who decides that and on what merits?
Ever thought how burdened does she feel when we assume she knows it all
How paranoid she is due to the expectations of the world
She has looked at her mother and all the other mothers,
but found the same helplessness in their eyes
who have accepted these assumptions as a gospel
So now she stops waiting for someone to break this chain of expectations,
And she does what they did
She accepts the rule too
That A MOTHER MUST KNOW IT ALL
She has nowhere to go for help
So now she tells herself she knows it all and thinks it’s her duty to know it all
I remember the time my Nani used to tie my hair while getting me ready for school and I used to tell her stories of my class
and today as I comb her hair because her feeble hands cant anymore and now she tells me her stories