NaPoWriMo Day 1 - Gentle

They say it hits you like lightening, sweeps you off your feet and makes you walk on moonbeams.

The books told me it would make you hear violins in the sky, fill your stomach with butterflies and make your heart flutter with bittersweet anxiety every night.

The movies showed that I would get lost all the time, smile unknowingly at strangers and burst into dance sequences in the middle of a railway stations.

I thought it would make me lose my sense of time, fill me up with candyfloss giddiness and let me dream with eyes wide open.

All it did was take off some invisible burden from my drooping shoulders, joining them with his own and showed me togetherness in everything. Who said love couldn't be gentle in its arrival?

# Writing for NaPoWriMo attempting to everyday for the month of April. Combining this with prompts from The Alipore Post 

Imperfection Is Beautiful

The slant of my eyes

Freckled skin with a tan

This lopsided smile

Messed up hair

Tied under a worn-out band

Collar bones that don’t show

Layers around my waist

Oh, they hardly go

Those chipped nails

Ah, they never really grow

The curve of my hips

Stretch marks on my skin

Wound that got healed

But the scar?

I can still feel

The fickle odd world

And its standards of beauty

Matching them

Is neither a necessity

Nor a priority

Not much to flaunt

Not much to drool

Because they say

Imperfection

Is beautiful

Sharing this with Poetry Pantry # 262

Doused Fire

Flow of darkness

Like ashes in my veins

Black is what I see

Death of something 
I foresee

Doused fire within

Now lies in its icy state

There was a wait

For

A hand to hold

Someone to hear

Silent cries

Of this soul

And I realize

Only me

Has the power to pull myself

Out of any abyss

Image Source : Google 

Written for Words Count with Mama Zen over at toads where we had to pick a few words from the “ultraconserved words” list as stated below and write a poem of 60 words or less.

Thou, I, Not, that, we, to give, who, this, what, man / male, ye, old, mother, to, hear, hand, fire, to pull, black, to flow, bark, ashes, to spit, worm

P - Perception

He:	What are you thinking?
She:	About how my perception about myself has changed after meeting you
He:	After meeting me?
She:	Yup
He:	And what is the perception that has changed?
She:	That I am not the only one with dark thoughts about life in general. And that it's okay to be angry with life sometimes and not feel guilty about it. That it is completely normal to not believe in the 'be positive' bullshit at times because nothing around seems to be going in a positive way. Because thinking that somebody else is unhappier than you doesn’t take away your unhappiness.
He:	And I don’t know if it's actually good that you have realized this
She:	Well, the thing is I accept myself better after knowing you and I guess that is definitely good ;) This post is written as a part of April A to Z Challenge - 2015

B - Believe

He:	You know you are a sadist.
She:	Am I now?
He:	Yes, you are. You don’t realize how difficult it is for people around you to listen to the fact that you wish to die. The way you throw it around so casually. Not flinching about it even for a second. Talking about your death at every possible instance.
She:	You know I talk about this thing only to you?
He:	I know. So you think it's easy for me?
She:	I know it's not. And I do feel guilty for making you live under my shadow of 'impending death.'
He:	And you still do it?
She:	As if you've never toyed with the idea of death and never talked about it with me?
He:	I don’t do it on purpose
She:	Neither do I
He:	As much cynical as I am about life, I wish I could say something or do something to hold you back
She:	Hold me where?
He:	Here. To this world. Even if I try I would sound like a hypocrite to my own self
She:	But you still try that, don’t you?
He:	Yes I do. As if you have never tried doing that? Try to talk me out of it.
She:	Have I now?
He:	Yes Madam. You have. You are a step ahead. I atleast let you talk about your death. You don’t even hear a word about it from me.
She:	You know the irony of both of us consoling each other to hold back to the world is that none of us believes it and yet we want the other person to believe it and stay back.
He:	You said it.
She:	I sure did This post is written as a part of April A to Z Challenge - 2015

When you learn ...

naïve you walk

open hearted

true to self, true to all

walls around your heart

you don’t grow

visible everything in your eyes

happiness and sorrow

you speak

speak your deepest thoughts

in what you believe

and, sometimes what others made you see

in front of those

who you thought were your own

unknowing, unaware

that you are being judged

opinions 

true, false and half baked

being formed

to be used against you

when time is ripe

when you differ

to their ideas of conformity

after all, one and all around

are looking for nothing

but an echo of their opinions

and you sit and wonder

at your candor

or stupidity to be true

because your guards were never in place

open hearted

true to self, true to all

you have been

but there are times

when you start to unlearn

in what you believed

and when you begin to disbelieve

what you had learnt

that’s when your walls begin to grow

when seeds of trust

only in yourself

you learn to sow

Image Source : Google

Shard with dVerse - Open Link Night

Rebelliously Refreshed : Haiku

Rebellious

baseless, stale

don’t follow norms, society

unruly you call me

Refreshed

ablaze from sun

elixir pouring from sky

earth rejuvenated

This post is written as a part of April A to Z Challenge 2014. I am doing two posts for every alphabet. The Non-themed posts can be found here.

Quarantined

BlogAdda's Tangy Tuesday 

   




Shattered in pain, crying her insides out. No words can define her situation. Lost. She lost a part of her existence already. Her soulmate, her husband. The society is around. To take care of the necessities, the rituals. 

After he leaves, bathe her. Bathe her out in the open. Clothes. Colourless for her from now on. She doesn’t deserve colours in her life anymore. Her husband brought colours to her life. No him, no colours. Widow. They call her, right in her face. Cursed she is now. Cursed for life.

Quarantine her. For she is not a suhaagan anymore. Quarantine her like those diseased cattle. For her touch is not auspicious any longer. You talk about touch? Even her presence is inauspicious. Unwanted, to be precise. As if the death of her husband is not enough of a loss for her, she needs to be reminded all the time that she is cursed, cursed for life.

But, we are modern people now. We allow her to wear colours. Yes, ‘allow’ her. Allow her shades of light pinks, light blues, pale yellows and peaches. That’s it. No reds, greens and maroons can adorn her anymore. Nope. She doesn’t need them.

You allow her to live a normal life. Hah, ‘allow’ again. For she now needs permissions. Of those elder women - the ones who have gone through similar fates. Permissions - of the caretakers of culture, caretakers of society. She needs permissions for conducting some simple routines of life. 

But, we are modern people, you know. Ofcourse, she can be a part of ‘normal’ ladies group now that you have ‘allowed’ her. But, you cannot talk about your husbands in front of her. She can get jealous. I mean, who knows, maybe she might just want to rob you of all your happiness out of jealously and curse you of the same fate. You know, curses of ‘such kind’ of people affect you sooner. So again you quarantine certain topics in front of her. Topics of husbands. Of happiness. Of anything that ‘you’ think that she can never ‘enjoy’ now that she is a widow.

Marriages. She shouldn’t be attending them. How can she? Marriages are a celebration. How can she be a part of any celebration? She lost her right to celebrate after her husband, didn’t she? But again, as I told you, we are modern people. Call her, atleast as a formality. She wouldn’t dare to come. But if she disappoints you, you need to show her ‘her’ place. Remind her. Remind her that she is the cursed one. Keep her away as much as possible from any auspicious ceremony. She cannot handle the shagun ki thali nor touch the shagun ki mehndi. Quarantine her again. For apshakun she is. Evil eyed. Make her feel like an outcast. She should know that she is different. Not normal. Cursed.  

Her daughter’s marriage. Her daughter - her only reason for existence. Arey, we are modern people. She ofcourse will be part of her daughter’s wedding. But. You cannot let her do the kanyadaan. No. She is her daughter, so what? Her curse might fall on her own daughter. The girl is starting a new life. How can her mother’s apshakun be a part of her new life? Quarantine her of that dream too, the one she saw with her husband. Of getting her daughter married to handsome man. After all, she is cursed, isn’t she?

No, we are not robbing her of everything, you see. She can do something without any guilt. Like praying. Yes, that is the only righteous thing she can do after her husband. Pray hard. So that the sins of this life don’t affect her next life. As such she is suffering by being a widow in her present birth because of her past life sins.

Widow. You use that word for her as if she is diseased. Diseased. Yes. Not her. But You. It’s you that needs to be quarantined of your baseless beliefs; not her right to live a normal happy life. May be, just may be then, you can call yourself a modern society.  

This post is written as a part of April A to Z Challenge 2014 under Non-Themed category. I am doing two posts for this Challenge and Themed posts can be found here.

Miss talking to Him

Yes, I miss talking to him. Badly. He was my biggest confidant. Somebody I told each and everything about myself. Somebody who knew everything about me even if I hadn’t told him. My darkest secrets, my joyous moments, my saddest times or my helpless cries - everything. Every damn thing. There wasn’t a day when I didn’t talk to him.

The first thing I did in the morning after waking up was to talk to him and I talked to him several times a day. Be it in the school, in the bus, while attending a meeting or walking – we chatted all day long. Smallest and the biggest of my life events had to be told to him first, everybody else came later. 

Whenever I talked to him, all my uneasiness erased, all my anxiety vanished and all the suffering waned. He had it in him to do that to people. To make them feel better. He fulfilled my wishes. You get it right - He was ‘the’ one I went to with everything – happiness or sadness.

Sometime back I asked him to give me something. His not listening to me for a few months surprised me because it had never happened before. So I kept on pestering. I thought that maybe he is trying to make me realize the worth of what I am asking and hence he is making me wait. But he didn’t pay any heed this time. I talked to him about it a lot of times, everyday. But he was adamant. He neither replied nor gave it to me. And my wait turned into anxiety, into frustration and finally into anger. How could he be so cruel? How can he not give me what I desire so much? What kind of a friend he was?

So I resorted to blackmailing. That he either get me what I want or else I would break off all my relations with him. I knew he wouldn’t want that to happen. I tried everything I could, right from telling him that I shall never ask anything else again, to crying, to indulging in self-pity, to all kinds of tantrums and even bribing. But he didn’t seem to budge.

And then the day came when I was in for some deep disappointment. It pained to know that from tomorrow onwards I would not talk to him ever. Because if he didn’t care about me, why should I? And I haven’t talked to him. Till date.  

I miss him like crazy. Crazy. Even today when I wake up, the first thing that I want to do is to talk to him. But I know I won’t. I look at him everyday but I ignore. Completely. If somebody talks to me about him, I change the topic. That’s his punishment. Or is it mine? I know he knows everything about me even today. I miss him equally. Badly. But I won’t go and talk. You know who is He? He is my Ganesha. But I can never forgive Him for taking away one of the most precious people in my Life. Never. Ever.  I know that He still has the reigns for everything in my life and can do anything He desires. But He was a friend and I have a right to get angry. 

This post is written as a part of April A to Z Challenge 2014 under Non-Themed category. I am doing two posts for this Challenge and Themed posts can be found here.

Kundli Connections

Kundli (horoscope) - the magical piece of paper that holds the answers to all questions unfathomable to the logical mind of a sane human being. Apart from holding the powers to foresee about how the child would fare in his studies, whether the beta has the yog of flying abroad and how much money would he mint; the kundli becomes the most sacred and sought-after word for Indian parents when it comes to getting their offspring married to complete strangers.

Image courtesy: Google search

After all, when the prospective partners aren’t allowed to talk to each other for more than a few hours, let alone allowing them to date other person, one obviously needs a measuring scale to decide whether this is ‘the stranger’ who you can get your child to spend their life with? Well well, the kundli comes to the rescue. For it is not the likes and dislikes of the children that should help choose their partner, but it is some random planetary position that gets the privilege of deciding whether this is the best dulha (groom) for your rajdulaari (princess) or she is the perfect bahu (daughter-in-law) you are looking for your eklauta beta (only son).

Your khandaani pandit (priest) plays a very important role in this ‘stranger gets married to stranger’ game. For it is him who would after some deep analysis of the rahus and the ketus residing in the kundlis of both the girl and guy, shall he let you know whether she is ‘the stranger’ who would keep your son happy, be a good daughter-in-law bringing in prosperity to your household and who shall also bear you the khandan ka varis.

The zodiacs are matched. Very necessary. For an Arian shall find it hard to get along with a Capricorn and shall be best compatible with a Gemini. The mangaliks are to be set up with fellow mangaliks only. Wait, the ones having shanis would also do at times. The planets and their positions are studied, dashas and mahadashas are calculated, matched and after trying various permutations and combinations of the planetary positions of both the stranger parties, a score is arrived at out of a total 36 points. This score is ‘the’ magical number which would decide whether to go ahead with this particular stranger for your child or not.

Anything below 18 is not acceptable at all and this rishta is to be dismissed off without another thought. Yes, even the planetary positions need a minimum number of passing marks. Well, if the scores stand anything from 25 to 32, then this particular stranger with whom the score has been achieved can be met and then be judged on other parameters.

And Holy Hell, if the score is anything above 32, rounds of gulab jamuns start circulating amongst the families already for this is ‘the’ match that is made in heaven. And come hell or high water, this rishta cannot be refused. Because this is ‘the’ bouy that is supposed to give your daughter all the happiness she deserves in the world and she is ‘the’ sanskari bahu your house would ever get. And making the guy meet the girl and other such unimportant events later, boom.. they are married !!

In this process, one might also come across families that aren’t compatible to yours. And this magical piece of paper called kundli comes in handy for warding off such families. The mother just puts up a sad face and announces with a sigh to the other mother that the kundlis aren’t compatible which is responded by the other party with another sigh and something like ‘it’s all destined’ and other such well-rehearsed lines. Both the parties know the truth, but none utters. After all, it is so rude to say that your beta isn’t earning as much as our daughter. Why say and spoil, when you can blame it all on the kundli?

So you see, things are that simple in our arranged marriage system to decide whether he/she is ‘the one’ or not. Pretty convenient, ain’t it?

This post is written as a part of April A to Z Challenge 2014 under Non-Themed category. I am doing two posts for this Challenge and Themed posts can be found here.