Monday, December 8, 2008

A Crop of Dissapointments


In the era, when we talk about abolishing gender discrimination and giving the fairer sex equal rights as our not-so-fair counterparts, we manage to hold onto those seemingly simple rules, that seem harmless but have a grave implication, proving that the pomposity of the we-are-no-longer-a-patriarchal-society falls flat on its face.

The abhorred thralldom of the race of Aphrodite may no longer appear as restrictions in jobs or the right to vote, but it lurks there, sneering at the feminists, from behind the shield of ‘discrimination for preservation’ - an impressive phrase, and so convenient too.


The streets at night are not safe for women, so let us shut them up in the hostels at 9. We are, here, referring to the proportion which says

Safety of women :: Daylight

Which directly implies that darkness and night are indirectly proportional to the safety of women, that makes them, of course, directly proportional to the threats on women.


But hey, knock knock……..and should I mention the various attacks on women in broad daylight and crowded streets? Or let us together go through the police records containing incidents where men were stripped off, not their ‘virtue’ but off their ‘wallets’?


A woman walking alone during the daytime is as likely to be targeted by scavengers prowling the streets as a woman at night. A male specimen for that matter, is just as delicious meat for criminals as women. The crime committed against the two sexes might differ but both of them are at par in their vulnerability.


If you agree with me, then why do we have the ridiculous rules regarding late nights and night outs where women are concerned, when the men of the same age have no restraints at all? It is, as you know, a rhetorical question. I do not need an answer. I already know it and so do you. All this pondering is just a crop of disappointments, bound to make me yearn for the freedom I cannot have, but the dream of which makes me pen down the storm in my head and torture people who dare to read this.

Ahhhhhh

At times I sit and wonder

Of things that have occurred yonder

This feeling is so new

This fresh point of view

What has happened to me

Is something I cannot fully see

All this is just like a dream

The sensation of standing in a running stream

When the water tickles my feet

Like a pleasurable treat

I never thought that I’d think like this

And still count it as a bliss

Many times I think that it’s all wrong

But then this feeling goes so strong

I can do nothing but comply

And sit down to reply

To a mail sent from a hundred miles

Which fills me with a thousand smiles

Musings

A thousand little things went by,

So many hopings.

All my dreams cast so high,

All the steep slopings.

Cast adrift is what I am,

All hopes lost in me.

My dreams shattered with a bam,

As lost as could be.

Lost and gone forever forever,

Leaving me alone.

To be found oh never oh never,

I can’t even moan.

Which new path should now I take?

But, none will take me.

What destiny foe me God did make?

What end did he see?

Come down oh God, where are you?

Am I in your care?

Tell me my Guide what to do?

Lift me from despair.

So much n so little

A breath from the sky

A drop from the sea

A moan and a sigh

A smile full of glee

A truth and a lie

A buzz like the bee

A laugh and a cry

A 'me' and a 'we'

A tear in my eye

That no one could see

With dreams very high

Do I part from thee

"To be or not to be"

When Hamlet questioned

his faculty

He did not know

what lay ahead

He was too slow

He was too late

A little speed

Could have made his day

Was he me?

or am I him?

My mind sufferes

My hope is dim

I never knew

I would not do

I could not do

I should not do

Why? I ask

Why me not you

sufferes when

I should not do

Was I wrong

Were you right

You my parents

were my guide

The decision was mine

should have been mine

Was I wrong

to make it thine

I cannot eat

I cannot sleep

I sob and laugh

I smile and weep

Answer me

No reply

My cry does not

leave my soul

Sunday, December 7, 2008

When Roots are Lost

Single drops

make an ocean

fibers make

pretty clothes

a dried up sea

is still a lake

A tattered cloth?

Rags to throw away

A leafless tree

Has still some hope

What of the leaf?

If treeless then

The use is gone

The home is gone

The roots are gone

You and me

We make a team

All of us a nation

If not me

It still does stand

But my life

My home is gone

Identity lost

Who am I?

Who will I be?

Castigated

Cast adrift

Not amnesia

Oblivion