Tag Archives: women safety

The Thing About Boys & Men.

I am bored. I mean not that I don’t have anything to do, but I am just bored. Bored with stressful working, with useless studying, with meeting deadlines, with assignments, with reading, with writing, practically everything. So I keep finding new things to do. Now, I haven’t been very successful with it, but I think I am obligingly eating people’s head with my tantrums. But I guess I am so bored that I get bored with that too. And hence, I keep finding things like reading short biographies of inspiring authors, what they have done, listening to music I have never heard before or going out to new places. Now, that last thing that I said is more useless than the word ‘useless’ can signify. Living in such a small city comes with its dirth of new and exciting places to go to. So, I am left to be doing only two things, reading and ranting. I could say I am just writing but I know my writing is not writing, it’s only a rant, a cribbing rant with no solutions which a set of very few loyal friends will read and tell me that it is not a rant and they liked it, but I know better than their kindness.

Just one such rant, actually, a very furious rant with a failed attempt of humor was written after an impulsive decision and was mailed without any eidting. I regretted it the minute I sent it. Honestly, I did. But very surprisingly, the local supplement of Times of India weren’t offended by my rant and they published the column all the same.

I am happy.

Today, I am not bored.

I am sharing the picture below.

Because today I am not bored.

I will rant and keep you bored.

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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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Deep Blue Pajamas.

 

I am not a morning person

But then again I am barely even a person,

But since I am not a morning person

And when I am forced to leave my warm smothered bed

I cringe and cry

Not wanting to rise.

I shed off all my dreams

When suddenly, my alarm screams

And as soon as my feet touch the floor,

My mother rushes in, thrashing the door.

“We have guests at our place, and I need milk!”

“So?” I want to show some fury.

I do not say a word

Instead rush to the kitchen

To get my morning drug.

“Please, you can have coffee once you come back,

I need milk and some bread before that.”

I give her a look

Morning without a coffee

Is barely morning at all

And since I am not a morning person

It makes me furious after all.

 

In a deep blue pair of pajamas

And a plane tank top

A lost rough bun, with loose strands on my careless face

I grab the keys to my vehicle

And leave, muttering under my breath

“Who goes to someone’s place at this hour?”

 

I am barely awake

What with an early morning

And no coffee-

 

 

And so I am in a hurry

More of a hurry for a cup of coffee

Than of furnishing the breakfast for our guests.

“Yeah, go on judge me” I say out aloud

To no one in particular.

And since its early morning

Not many shops have even opened

The supermarket is still closed too,

And I roam about in my effort to find some place

That will provide me with the needed!

Breakfast!

“Why can’t they just drink a coffee and be done with it instead?”

I could have made all kinds,

Even tea

All kinds.

But our guests had to have breakfast

And we had to finish all our bread the previous day.

And so I drive around in a chirpy and yet quite morning

Warm and yet a cool morning.

I remember suddenly, the bakery!

And I rush there.

There is a small grocery store beside it too

Thankfully!

Finally! Both of them have started their day

And very soon I have the needed

A carton of milk,

And a packet of bread,

And I am driving home.

 

I am not the best of drivers

Least when it comes to cars,

But I drive my Honda Dio pretty well.

Over the decade of driving two wheelers

I have had the knack of balancing and rushing

Without being a sneaker.

And so at the speed of 30-40 on a empty lane

I am driving and enjoying the beautiful morning arcane.

When finally my stubbornness is over the fact

That I had to wake up and rush about for others

It starts drizzling,

And then pouring

And then consistently raining!

Now, as usual I am again grumpy

Just when I was adjusting

All fell again crumbling.

What choice do I have

Either I get late for the entire day

Or I get drenched

And finally start my day!

I chose the latter.

 

Now, rains are not my favorite part

“What did I say?”

“I don’t like rains?”

“Are you mad?”

Now, don’t get me wrong

Rains are needed

Beautiful too-

But I am more of a reality person

And rains always have been to me burden.

What with the puddles and the potholes

The overflowing murky water

And the atmosphere, a constant rotter.

But since I am doing everything against my own will

I keep driving

I keep drenching

And begin somehow, to enjoy

The morning chill.

Who cares- about how I look

I am probably just a black and white sketchbook.

It is early in the morning

And there is no one around

For the days aborning.

And so I let myself soak,

And the cool breeze, float.

 

The rains have prevented

The one or two early risers

Leaving the day isolated and scented

With only one or two miners

 

I am driving back home,

All too careful, not to skid

When an Enfield comes and skits inches away from me.

The me, that always finds mistakes in myself

Cringes and slows down

Only to realize that the gawky man has turned around.

I am still away from home

And the street is empty-

 

I drive away.

He drives away!

 

A little while later

I notice the Royal Enfield again

And I want to take off

Just like a rocket plain.

I speed

He speeds

I have a Honda Dio

He has a Royal Enfield.

I stick to the extreme left,

Giving him the entire road,

Its raining and I don’t want to cause some explode.

And yet he drives centimeters away from me

And my heart thumps as if

He was on the verge of thrashing me.

He slows down fairly just a little ahead of me

And then I slow down too

Thinking how to flee.

I keep forgetting I am drenched,

My tank top stuck to me,

And my pajamas are defining my legs, carefree.

He is not bothered by my driving skills

But he is amazed by a woman’s drenched frills.

He finds me enticing

And he has nothing better to do

On a morning that is so surprising.

 

The clouds have grown darker

The rains heavier

And I can barely see the road’s departure,

But I have to find an exit now!

And I have to get home- NOW!!

 

And so with sheer force

I speed my vehicle

Zigzagging against the course

Noticing his face, unbelievable.

Oh, what a psychopath

He whistles at my expertise

But diverts his path

And I breathe, a sigh of relief.

 

And then I am no mood of fury,

Or any agony,

Not for the fact that I had an early morning,

Not for the uninvited guests

And not for the Royal Enfield.

It was just as normal, just as mundane-

Nothing was new

Not the woman’s bane.

It was just mandatory

Because if you are a woman

Sexuality was your only glory.

 

I sped home,

Indeed like a rocket plane

And then somehow my deep blue pants

Had turned even a deeper shade.

But I didn’t care

For nothing was new

And so I went to the kitchen

And poured the coffee, due.

 

 

The Talk of Safety!

Let’s talk a bit about safety. Shall we?

(Warning, I am going to digress from the topic, totally!!)

So today I was almost done with all my work and was about to return home early when my friend called and asked me to meet her at a coffee shop near her place. I thought why not? It was early as it is and didn’t have much to do either. So I went there, had a cup of coffee, we talked and in some time I decided to leave. It wasn’t late but I just wanted to reach home before it started raining. We were sitting in the garden and I could see clouds getting darker with the time.

Just when I was leaving she reminded me to wear the helmet. Of course I forgot. How could I remember that? I just do not like wearing helmets, I feel as if I have overburdened my tiny head. So I wore my helmet and rode towards my home. It was just a fifteen minute ride.

After just two minutes I felt the strap choking my neck, it was too tight. I loosened it with one hand and rode on. After another two minutes it felt too loose so I stopped and tucked it tight again. I’d better choke than let it loose and keep the helmet coming down to my face. I don’t think there is any helmet made for my size of the head, or for a woman. They are all either too loose or too big! (Smaller ones and the perfect ones are really rare.)

I rode on for five more minutes in full speed, the roads were not too packed, and now I was in a hurry too. My phone was constantly ringing and I knew it was my mom. I hadn’t informed her that I’d be late.

Riding peacefully at a consistent speed, I was really enjoying the beauty on the roads. The part of city which I was leaving is really beautiful with trees on both sides shading the road.

I was about to reach the main road when I noticed two boys riding behind me in a bike, they were almost shouting and I could hear their voices, but could not make out what were they talking about. I wasn’t interested either. Only up till the point when I realised they were following me.

My initial instinct was to ride faster, so I took up the speed. I reached to main road circle and however hard I tried I had to slow down with the evening rush. They had taken all the same turns up till now, and I was hoping against all odds that they would divert ways now. This was the turning point; if they wouldn’t take another turn here then I would be sure that they were after all following me.

I gave no indicators, ignoring the traffic rule, and pretended to go straight. And then just when there was no other way to go, I took a sharp right turn and moved inside the area, switching off from the main road. They had pretended to go straight too but had followed my vehicle taking a right turn against the rules.

I was sure. They were following me after all.

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Speeding up wasn’t helpful, so I slowed down, hoping that they’d go away. That particular street was still busy; once I’d go inside the residential area I knew the streets would be would be isolated.

They slowed down too behind me.

I was frustrated, angry, scared all at the same time.

I moved on taking another right turn, taking me inside to the residential area. They came too close to my bike and I am pretty sure my face would have given away my inner feelings. What was I feeling? I was shit scared!

The next time they brought their bike beside me, I loosened my helmet and kept it handy on my left side, the side on which they kept nearing. By this time I had already moved past my home. I couldn’t let them know my residence. What if?

I was already way away, and the streets were getting isolated, and the sky was giving me signals that soon it would rain. It was almost dark now!
I had no option now. I did not know what to do? Where to go? My hands were shivering and making it difficult to ride. My palms were sweaty and tears were almost on their verge of flowing down.

I blinked hard. This was not the time to go weak.

“Shut up and think!”

With again an impulse decision, I slowed down my bike to almost 20kmph and pretended to take out my phone. This time I was the one shouting on the phone declaring my whereabouts to the constantly vibrating phone.

Just when I slowed down further, the main door of the house on the left opened and a man came out. I did not stop but I slowed down to a speed of 10, barely moving further. Of course if the boys behind me slowed down with me that would look fishy. So they maintained enough speed to go ahead of me.

Finally I breathed a sigh of relief. Just when they were at the end of the road, I gave my right indicator on making them feel that I would turn that way.

They turned right. Mission successful!!

I never drive past speed limit, of course I always follow the safety rules, but this was an exceptional case. Just when they noticed me taking up speed, they went further right, one boy constantly glaring behind, to keep track of my bike.

I took a sharp left turn, fortunately avoiding a Harley and increased my speed even further. They took a u turn too but very fortuitously a car came following from just where I took a turn making it difficult for them to follow me. But they still were after me, but thankfully very far away, almost at the far end of the road.

I took continuous three sharp lefts making it a circle to my home. But before I stopped I saw the reflecting mirror that they were not there, they had missed me. I zoomed the bike to the parking space, locked it and rushed to the elevator, the helmet still in my hand.

I was only relieved when I reached the inside of my house, still shivering.

“What happened?” my mom was all worked up just by my looks.

I broke safety laws.

“You never do that. What did you do?”

I broke three laws, mom. Not one. First, I did not give indicators, and when I gave I gave the wrong one. Second, I over sped. And third, I did not wear helmet.

“But you are carrying your helmet in your hand.”

Yes, mom. I just did not wear it.

“So did the police charge you?”

No, I saved myself.