Tag Archives: trouble

The Problem Of Calling It ‘A Problem’.

The situation usually one deals with is that where, as a human, you create a problem, then worry over it, then scale the said problem, then you work it out and then finally you get it done with. The problem is then forgotten, learnt from and in the distant past soon. That is the usual plan, right, when it comes to dealing with your problems in life, big or small?

But off late I have been acquainted with another problem, or should I say a problem of looking at this problem matter? Very recently I have been analysing it differently. Yes, we all have problems, I get it. No one’s life is a cake-walk. But now I know there could be another situation too, another very raw way to look at the said problems. In this second situation, as a human you create problems, then worry over it, then scale it with all your other problems, weight the importance of this problem, and then before even solving it, you scale your problems with someone else’s problems, then you realise that your problem may not be of even a little worth in comparison to the other persons’. Then guilt pricks you, gnaws at you, crawls all over you, to even think about your problem as a problem. Then, that guilt becomes your problem, for even thinking that you had a problem when all this while other people have real important matters to look into. And finally, with that guilt, comes back your first problem, and you start wondering how do you even define this problem as a problem? You want to let it go, without calling it a crisis, but it knock you back down and doesn’t let you get up until you call it with its previous name, ‘the problem’.

So the second situation has two problems, and no solution? The guilt keeps haunting you, and then somehow you just move on? You have no solution because, solutions are meant for problems, but you constantly reject the idea of it being called a problem. How can you? You have seen worst and now you want to fuss over your little princess problems? But unless you try and get it done with you just have to keep dealing with the problems….

I have no idea what I have written above here. But honestly, if you get me, what can a person possibly do in such a situation?

“They”

 

They say

I didn’t fight enough

They don’t know

How my body aches

How my body has

Lost the feeling to

Feel the pain.

 

They say

I didn’t raise my voice enough

They don’t know

How my throat itches

How my voice has

Completely lost the feeling to

Feel the voice.

 

They say

I did not repulse

I did not revolt

They say the fault

Is mine.

 

I can’t blame anyone

They say

That I was wrong

And they were right

They were strong

And I was weak.

 

They say

My demeanor should be composed

My anger should be subsumed

They say

It is not a big thing

It is just a passing fling.

 

They say

I am the devil

I am my own fall

They say

I am the ill

I am the cause.

 

They say

I didn’t fight enough

They say

I didn’t raise my voice enough

They don’t know

My lungs gave way

Screaming into void

They don’t know

That my armor

Rests in peace

Fighting for my life.

Yet they say

I didn’t revolt

Yet they say

I was wrong and they

Were strong

They don’t know

That my blood

Distanced itself from my heart

They don’t know

That my soul embittered

On my body.

 

These “they”

Who are they?

Who are they

To make me the evil

Who are they

To judge me

For being the devil?

 

They don’t know me

Let alone my soul

They can’t judge me

Unless they can tell me

That they have fought

More than me

That they have

Screamed

Longer than me.

 

They don’t know me

They don’t know my battle

And yet,

“They” say….

 

*

I still refrain to even believe in my rarest imaginations that I am anywhere near being a poet, despite all your comments on my previous posts. So, again I call this a vain attempt to try and write in as limited words as possible, and to express as far and as truthfully I can.

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.

*

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?

₹500 or 1000?

Well at first I thought I wouldn’t give my opinion publicly on this but then something happened today that made me do it anyhow.

By now I think everyone knows about the ban on 500 and 1000₹ notes and the consequences of it so I’ll go straight to my point. I am not the PM I am not any high authority official, I am just a common person and so I think like one. So when the news was broadcasted I thought of not my excess money but about how will I survive till the crisis is solved.

Anyways, I am not here to talk about myself I am here to share a story and honestly I am not doing it to gain sympathy nor even to claim of be right or wrong. I just felt like sharing it.

My house helper today came to our house and almost begged to my mother for some money. Well, her story was something like this. She was broke just like other POOR people and hand managed to borrow 500₹ from someone yesterday and today it was just a piece of paper and by the time she realised what she had to do she had to wait for practically another 48 hours to get some “money”.

“Bhabhi ji please lend me some money I have to buy food for myself and my children and I do not have any money. I somehow managed 500₹ yesterday and today this is not even money for the same grocery store.” These were her exact words.

Well this may be the right decision for my country and I am not saying this should not have happened but the only thing that would have helped more to the general public would be a bit more of time and a certain amount of warning.

I think in a step of clearing away all the black money, somehow the poorest of all are suffering the most. The owners of the black money may not have had to undergo such trouble which the underprivileged people are going through.

PS: My current situation-

Me: Collecting all 100s and 20 and 10s to give some cash to the pizza guy. I don’t even know when I can go to the bank as I am not free up till Friday.

My friend: Banks are open on Saturdays and Sundays too.

Me: That’s like a bite of stale paneer for me now when I am damn hungry. And I don’t even like paneer.

My friend: Then why did you order paneer?

Me: I ordered for euros but then lost all my ₹ too 😀