Tag Archives: girl child

An Unwilling Bouzouki

Sitting on chairs in proper alignment

It seems a long ago, when we students were huddled about,

Celebrating India’s independence was the days’ requirement

Making our English teacher proud.

 

Constantly, we had chided and pleased

To do something else as a substitute to teach,

We did it often, played adventures

Making memories after memories to one-day treasure.

 

She decided she’d ask a question to the vibrant youth

To which we would answer with sheer truth.

With defined wisdom she asked

“How will you want to see your country at long last?”

 

The question she asked was very simple

But it created in my mind a momentary ripple.

I raced with my newest friend, over thinking

Sitting there paralyzed, unblinking.

 

Speaking up in front of people was never my thing

And so I sat there; to time clinging, worshipping,

But we were only thirty students

And I persistently fought against my prudence.

 

Smiling, nodding I heard what my friends had to say

Pondering, how meaningful answers they had their way,

From eradication of poverty to building roads

To making luxury cheaper- their thoughts flowed.

 

And in less than forty minutes I was called on stage

When all I wanted to do was hide in a cage,

What is my favorite teacher going to think about my dumb thoughts

But still I erased blank, and joined the dots.

 

With face turned hot, ears red

I held the mike, but my lips dead.

I gathered myself, blinked and blurted

What my teacher thought- was the secret of my being introverted.

 

“If I live to be an old maiden

I want myself in the world (not country) to reawaken,

I want kindness; I want honesty and no chaos

I want peace; I want beauty and no havoc.

 

I fumbled; I fidgeted and put the mike down

Ashamed, I got down feeling like a clown,

I went to my seat, hiding my face

Wanting the few minutes to retrace.

 

Up until then I hadn’t herd

The deadening applause,

And so I sulked deeper amidst the nerds

For such words, I thought definitely had no cause.

 

Years from that day, I stand by those words

But if only I could change my verse,

Or better still I could have at least tried

To say everything for which my heart cried.

 

That day is gone

But I have a little strength now,

I have a little word play drawn

Perhaps, you’d tap with the button ‘Allow’.

 

If I live to be an old maiden

I want myself in the world (not country) to reawaken,

I’d love to see so many blessed things happen

That life itself would feel like a welcoming wagon.

 

If only I could find things a little different

My little sister would have taken birth for starters,

Or I wouldn’t have to be constantly belligerent

Being an orthodox Indian daughter.

 

I wouldn’t have to go to an all-girls school

Fearing boys and all the various rules.

Comparing myself to those who didn’t even go to school

I should have felt my life a little less cruel.

 

I’d want my grandmother to give me a kiss

For I never knew that bliss,

Or for my uncle to not give me that stare

For it was mortifying, I swear.

 

I’d want for no one to give me an eye

When I say I don’t want to learn cooking,

I’ll have different means to fly

Than just making all kinds of pudding.

 

I’d want a life where my mom does not persistently say

When you get married please take care of your husband,

Darling, you are not suppose to go astray

For your in-laws will have us trusted.

 

I’d want a life when I wouldn’t have to think some things

Like what can I study, so they never cut my wings,

Or how will I mange so many responsibilities

Work-husband-in-laws-kids-kitchen- a trillion little things.

 

I’d want a life where everything will not be ‘my’ duty

And I won’t have to be an absolute bouzouki,

Yes I’ll want peace and love and no havoc

I’ll want kindness, honesty and no mental chaos.

 

I’ll want a life where I consistently don’t have to remember

That I am a woman and somehow, somewhere I have to surrender,

I’ll want a life where I don’t want to stand in front of the mirror

And see incessantly how from him I differ.

 

Today, I have a little strength, a little clarity

So, please allow me to speak my dwarfish insanity,

If I live to be an old maiden

This is how I’ll want to end my cadence.

 

*

PS: Do tell me if I have started saying the same things again and again, and if my words have started being mundane! 

 

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Were you not a girl, Mamma?

This is the first article/story I ever wrote which was published during my initial college days and hence it is very dear to me apart from various other reasons. Hope you like it too and is worth your time.

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Ah! This is such a beautiful sight I am observing. These two girls looking so happy with each other, hand in hand going round in the rose garden, playing with each other totally lost in their enjoyment and devoid of any troubles as it seems.

I feel so happy to see this, to adore such a lovely sight, to imagine that, someday I’ll be there with one of my close friends or my sister or my brother. By the way will I have any brother or sister mamma? Or do I have any who is waiting for me expectantly?

Someday I’ll be there enjoying this austere and beautiful garden of roses where I am planning to play, it’s marvellous appearance and its capturing smell is so, so strong that I wish to be there now. But I think that it’s not good for me at present. For the time I should be here, quiet, and safe inside your womb, mamma. It is too early for me to come out, right?

I desperately wish to see you mamma. I want to see my family, my house where I will be. I want to see this life which everyone wishes to. Though I have heard a lot about the sufferings of the life, I earnestly wish to live it, experience it, and to test my capabilities of experiencing it. I want to have friend’s mamma, I want to have a family. No not one I’ll have two families like you mamma. Someday I’ll also have a husband like you have as my father and after some more days I may also be a mother like you. It seems so interesting but for now this thought is quite early, very early in fact. There are too many years but yet to pass.

I want to study mamma I want to gain knowledge and under your guidance I will hopefully have a good idea of art too. You’ll teach me no mamma?

I feel so obliged to be gifted a life. I feel so special warmth inside me when you touch your womb and with a sensation of care and delight you say “it is so special a feeling my child to have you inside me and it fills me with so much of happiness when I imagine you to call me a mother” I want you to be my friend, philosopher and guide. I want you to guide me throughout my life mamma! I hope you will, I know you will. You are so kind dear!!

But for now may I please request you to go home mamma? The garden is becoming so cold and it is getting very dark too. Please, let us go towards home mamma I am feeling so cold and you must also be feeling so? You must take care of yourself mamma or else granny will scold you! By the way how is granny mamma?

Thank you for proceeding towards home mamma. You are so kind! You are so caring! I love you mamma. I know you will take care of me so tenderly when I come to you, Just as this girl wearing a white dress is looking after you in this ‘WHITE CABIN’ but where are we mamma? This is probably not our house. It is totally white. People here are totally in white. And why are they making you sleep in such a small bed? You need to be comfortable you won’t be at any ease here. You will suffer here, you will be uncomfortable here. Please listen to me or else I’ll complain to granny and she’ll definitely scold you.

See you are already restless! Get up mamma, get up! It is already hurting you.

But now it is hurting me too. What is this mamma? What is happening? What are they doing to you? Why are you crying?

They are hurting me mamma. They are hurting me. It is so painful. Complain! I pray you to complain to them. You are so cruel mamma. I do not want to go mamma. I want to live. I want to see this life.

God!

Forbid…

Stop! Have pity on me.

I want to live mamma. I want to live. I want to come out of you. Why are you hurting me and yourself?

Oh! God! Look! Please!

They are cutting me, my legs, hands, they were so very small. They are thrashing it, smashing it. They are cutting me into pieces mamma. Ah! It’s no more hurting me mamma, it’s paining now. And I am speechless of your act and breathless because of this pain. You have killed me mamma. You have killed me. How could you do this mamma? How could you?

Just because I was a girl you killed me? Is being girl a sin? What did I do or what I would have done to trouble anyone? Why did you not allow me to enter the world? But if this world is such, where people kill their own blood I am lucky enough to not be there with you all.

My life annihilates just within three months but at least it was a peaceful one, not like yours comprising a sin. A sin, to kill an innocent!

I would merely ask you a question mamma I was a girl and you killed me. But were you not a girl mamma? Had you been in my place how would have you felt?

And here I die without making any difference to anyone.

Are girls so useless mamma?

Disheartened

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I am least stunned reading this. If there are yet 20 million Indian uneducated girls then this just is just another piece of news which could have affected anyone.

Can you believe? There are villages where mobile phones are actually banned for girls for saving their morality.

Of course if a parent has to choose between a girl and a boy for education then mobile phones and internet are a far cry.

The irony is that even internet helps in educating a person these days with all the distance learning and open universities and yet it is a rarity for those who most need them.

PS: girls have equal rights too and it is high time that we start giving them what they deserve, if not giving them a higher priority than men.

Article: Times of Inida