His torturous existence.

I am a woman

And by default I have a best friend.

I met ‘him’ at a tender age,

When I was 14

And for everyone I knew

I was already late.

When the first time I called my friend ‘him’

I was frowned upon.

“It is she, my dear! It is only your chance.”

But I didn’t want that chance, you know.

Who would want a friend

Who comes unannounced

At all the wrong times

When you plan to go for a swim

Or have a dance show

Or better yet

When you already have 10 different aches,

Who would want a friend that will just add another set of pains?

But there I was, at 14

And just because I ticked the box ‘Female’

I had a best friend,

Who would be with me till times inane.

And so I complied,

Now, if I have to have him inside my body every month

Why not make the best of it?

So, every month I would cry

When he would enter me

And I’d simply shy

Wouldn’t know how to walk-

Did he make everyone this uncomfortable?

Or was I the only one who would feel as a

Combustible?

So I would sit and complain,

I can’t go out

I am not well

And I just want to sit and read and eat and sleep and rest-

My excuses were never enough,

For I was a woman

And people were after equality

So it didn’t matter

And so I had to plaster a smile

Even when my cramps would let in no air.

As time went by,

My best friend became consistent,

Ever month, after almost 35 days

He’d visit me

And make me want to become a man.

“Why did he not have any pain?” I’d wonder.

But then if ‘he’ was the one giving me so much pain

How could he himself accustom to such cruel gain.

I call him

And every man, and woman would cringe-

But come on, it has to be a ‘him’

Who else would think of harassing a woman

The likes of this-

If it weren’t for a ‘him’?

It can only be a him

Who gives me such a headache,

Who makes me a throbbing backache?

Who makes my walking difficult,

With his unwanted intrusion,

Who makes my stomach bloat

Who takes away from my own body, my very own blood,

Who makes me consistently wet

And pains me with his very existence!

Of course it has to be a ‘him’-

Its name itself involves ‘Men-‘

Of course it has to be a him-

Ladies, at least must agree,

But then we live in a conventional society

Where talking about being wet is grimaced upon,

Let alone the talk of staining your pants,

Shhhhhhhh—-

You are making it very clear, woman

Stop talking!

We are at the point where we fight for equality

And you saying these things

Isn’t helping

You are a woman

And you just have to live with your best friend.

And so I tell myself

I am a woman,

As if I didn’t know so far

And since I am a woman

I will just have to live with it.

As if I could literally do anything about it!

And so I make sure that I carry ‘things’ with myself

Everywhere,

Carefully hiding it from the men’s stare.

God forbid they know

What we go through.

Let alone ‘him’ being the only reason we go through.

Then comes the choice of colors of my dresses

Where I will make sure to avoid

The white and lights

When I will somehow know

That ‘he’ is going to visit me.

And then suddenly I will have to cancel all the fun plans

Only because I am not up for it,

And my mood is so unreliable

That I will hate even myself

But I still go and work just as such

For I am a woman,

And that is just a part of me.

That ‘him’ is just a part of me.

And just suddenly, because I am the one inviting problems,

I will have the unknowing urge to visit a temple,

Why?

I am not even that religious

But just because I am not “allowed”

I want to go in-

And I will somehow land up at my relatives place

Where again I am not ‘allowed’ to

Sit on the sofa

On the bed

Or eat just as naturally.

For I am dirty on those days

And I just don’t love it.

But then again I am a woman,

And that is how I am ‘suppose’ to be.

My friend will come and visit

That is by default-

In my system-

And I will have to just live with it.

I don’t have a choice.

‘He’ is just a part of me.

And just like all other men

He is just another sour ache on my body,

My mind

Straining my life with his very existence.

 

40 thoughts on “His torturous existence.”

  1. maybe it is time to have “him” medically evaluated if causing so much discomfort. and if a medical evaluation has been done, maybe a second or third opinion is needed

    but i really like the write

    Liked by 3 people

  2. This is sssoooo good, it took me time to understand about “Him” but later on I had no doubt, how wonderfully you wrote it and depicted the taboo of our so called life…🙌

    Liked by 3 people

  3. This one had your signature all over it!!! And the way it showed the repressed rage through clenched teeth…subtle yet so profound…i had to take a pause of few minutes to soak it all before commenting! with your posts now i know that what is visible to the eye is different than what it actually is…so i knew ‘him’ was not him…and kind of guessed by 5-6 line what you might be trying to portray…and that made it even more engrossing read like a thriller…when you know yet dont know…this had that hard, raw, truth in it alongwith stinging irony and a thoughtful satire!! One of your very best i must say! Brilliant infact….!!
    Just love your evolution into such a fine writer in such a short span….i dont know about mr coffee hater but im surely getting converted to a big fan now!
    PS: do include this one

    Liked by 1 person

  4. This is powerful. It amazes me that while we are making efforts to land on Mars, discover black holes, we fail to deal with the black hole inside our heads, men mostly, shaming, shamming! Will we ever change. Sigh!

    Liked by 3 people

    1. While I completely agree with you, I have to say that women are no different, they are their own enemies. I have seen women who fuss over such taboos and rules even more than men! So it’s like we are really screwed up at this moment.

      Liked by 2 people

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