Tag Archives: woman

I’ll Be A Good Girl….

Ah! This is such a wonderful sight

Away from all heinous plight.

Amidst the bed of roses

Smelling the smell of happy doses.

 

The two girls playing

Dancing and swaying,

Happy, serene

Jovial and green.

 

I love to see them

I also want to be them,

Playing with my brothers and sister

Oh, won’t I have a brother or a sister?

 

Or, do I have someone

Already waiting for me?

A daughter or a son

Already your honeybee?

 

I will be a good girl

To you, to everyone,

Like an obedient schoolgirl

With a sweet tongue.

 

I will play and eat

Will be your only heartbeat,

I will dance and learn

And shine like a Christmas fern.

 

I want to see you

See my father,

I want to be you

Given away at age, by my father.

 

I want to live life

I want to have friends

I want to thrive

I want to go through life’s all bends.

 

But I understand

All in good time,

For now I need to be in this dreamland

Your womb being my partner in crime.

 

But it is getting dark

And I am feeling cold,

I’ll complain to grandma

Please return to our home.

 

You understand me so well

I just thought and you already did,

Walking gracefully like a belle

You succumbed to your beautiful kid.

 

But wait are you sure this is the way, mamma?

And why are you burning like a sauna?

But again who am I to judge?

3 months old, who knows not much?

 

But where is this mamma?

This is not our home.

I don’t see your comfy pajama

This is not where you roam.

 

Why are you lying in this small, rigid bed?

You need to be comfortable instead.

Who are these people in white?

Why are they shining the light so bright?

 

See, this is already hurting

You and me too.

You are twisting and squirting

They are letting the pain brew.

 

What is this?

What is happening?

What are they doing?

Why are you crying?

 

It is paining me too

Piercing me through and through,

I want to live and you are so cruel

You killed me, and my dreams accrual.

 

God!

Forbid!

Stop!

Have pity on me!

 

They are cutting me

My tiny legs and hands,

I want to flee

But the pain is killing me.

 

You killed me, mamma

How could you do this?

I am speechless

I am breathless.

 

You killed me for I was a girl

Is it so big a sin?

Then why was I called a pearl

If I was merely a skim?

 

If this world is such

Where you kill your own blood?

Then I am happy to have lived an innocent life

Without a sinful crime.

 

I have a question before I go

How does it feel to make your own kid a foe?

I know this may not be only your wish

For I have heard the constant surrounding whish.

 

But all the same I die

Without an answer for ‘why’,

I bid you adieu

And may girls never come to this life,

If everyone is like you.

****

This will be the last post for #NaPoWriMo. Somehow I ended up writing this last poem imitating the very first thing I ever wrote, like the very first time I put pen to paper, and though novice it’s always been close to my heart. I am attaching the link to the post, for I am certain I shared it in my blog at some point of time.

Were you not a girl, Mamma?

Also, my heartiest thanks for all you readers for sticking through the entire month of April, for your amazing and honest reviews, and for constantly just showering love on me and my immature poems. THANK YOU SOOOO MUCH!

 

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I Smile.

I burn my body to ashes

But my conscience savors and yearns

I rot amidst my own ashes

But my soul transpires beyond the patriarchal tavern.

 

I burn and I smile

Beyond my submissive rage

For I have no dreams

Only a small selfish realm.

 

I burn and I smile

Even from my ashes, when he rise

Drowning me beneath my own existence

Setting my red hair- aflame.

 

I burn and I smile

From among the quivering ashes

Subsiding, submerging- dying

O God- Can I please cease the smile?

 

 

Picture Credits: coub.com

 

Suppressed Vehemence.

You said it was love,

And I believed in you and called it love-

I fused in you

And lost all I had.

 

I loved you with all I had

And you deceived me with all you could

All I claimed was, you to love me too

And all you did was betrayed me with all my feelings too.

 

But what could I have expected,

I wanted sunshine and rains and winters

I wanted all-

But unknowingly I entered a silent brawl.

 

I wronged myself, in believing in you

For I think I demanded sunshine off the morning dew,

It’s not your fault, as rains only provide thunder

And a snowfall in scorching summers would only be a wonder.

 

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! 

 

The Mystical Pishogue.

I am meek

I am mild.

I am an emblem of docile.

 

I am innocent

I am polite.

I am an insignia of comply.

 

I am submissive

I am conceding.

I am an image of yielding.

 

I am sweet

I am honest.

I am a metaphor of a lonely forest.

 

I am kind

I am tolerant.

I am of all these, a conglomerate.

 

I am I.

I am what I am.

A fable in a flesh.

 

I am I.

I am what I am.

A conceited allegory in oneself.

 

The Amassing Vengeance.

 

He strolled into the room

Silence screaming behind him,

She garnered herself on the couch

Terror and throes screaming from inside her.

 

The stress, the tension surfacing

The unknown reconciling,

His anger transpiring

Her calm deescalating.

 

And in a sap all was lost

A yank through her ruffled hair,

An irate haul on her head

Her body forcefully standing.

 

A jab, a thump, a knock

And there she was,

Rocking herself on the floor

Alone, withstanding.

 

The relentless pleads had not sufficed

And so came the determined decision,

With anger and terror, the dwellers of heart

She thwacked between his legs, a brawny art.

 

And there he lay, beside her

On the self made land, wrenching in pain,

Two pairs of red gory eyes, glaring at each other

Heavy, strong breaths, petrifying the other.

 

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Challenge Accepted..!!

Something from a very confused and a very aggressive me.

Aesthetic Miradh

I see a girl standing erect, head high, hair open, long and roughly combed.  She has gripped her sides of the dress tightly, way too tightly. Her toes are clinching the floor, scratching it. Her hair hides the corner of her face.

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She is fair, a small mark on her right cheek, though not visible. But her fair skin is turning pink and slowly red; red with anger, red with rage.

She has a fluffy and sharp eyebrow. Just as it was suppose to be, giving her eyes a beautiful and lustrous look. Her eyes, big and wide, hazel brown in color; cute yet cunning, bold yet beautiful, shy yet audacious, talkative and yet tight lipped.

Her eyes speak a lot; tells me about her anger, about her grief. Slowly her eyes too have only one color and that is red. I see controlled tears in her eyes now.

She…

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