Missing innocence….

Missing myself! The old me full of innocence.

Missing the purity of emotions that I felt!

Full of aspirations and optimism!

Missing that perspective where everyone seemed nice and good.

Life is indeed harsh, strips off the innocence 

Bares the naked reality;

That is shocking and gruesome.

Shatters all those fragile thoughts!

I walked the streets in good faith,

I walked the aisle filled with love,

Life has moved and taught lessons,

Now I walk alone in a maze of haze and resentment!

Now all the real emotions are hidden.

There is a mask that I wear everyday,

A mask of happiness, cordial love,

Even when the heart is screaming disappointments myriad!

A sweet water lake that flowed within

Now has poison therein.

The now seemingly serene lake,

Has a volcano at the bottom;

Struggling to spurt, burst and bring in peace!

Comfort Woman

Yes! She lived to tell the tale,
Of the hell that was worse than jail.
At an tender age of fourteen,
Picked up to be ravaged by umpteen.

Yes! She lived to tell the tale,
Of bedsheets covered in deep Crimson blood.
Not once or twice but day long torture of the innocent bud.

Yes! She lived to tell the tale,
Of Japanese Military queuing up to take their turn.
Not one or two but almost fifty men without a thought or squirm!

Yes! She lived to tell the tale,
Of everyday six to nine hours shift of pure hell;
Of becoming a Comfort woman to those abominable male clientele.

Yes! She lived to tell the tale,
Of those abuse dens called “Comfort stations”.
To apparently stop army from raping temptation.

Yes! She lived to tell the tale,
Of protecting these men from Sexually Transmitted Diseases and more.
Her soul held no value, just the body treated like a whore.

Yes! She lived to tell the tale,
Of two lakh Korean girls snatched from motherland,
Forced into organised prostitution deliberately on command.

Yes! She lived to tell the tale,
Kim Bok-dong lived to tell the tale!
But she died waiting for the apology!

The Conspiracy

Whether to laugh or weep is a question I seek?
Tough choices whether to make our daughters independent or our sons weak?
Patriarchy is just a clever facade,
The conspiracy I believe is more bizzare!
For generations men are made to think
Reins of power in their hands, like Czar.
With little survival skills and dependency to the brink,
Mothers have cleverly befitted their sons
To become indecisive slaves, who can’t even eat (till they are served!)
That is the grand feminist ploy, where every girl is just a decoy,
To not allow the men to blossom into a self reliant soul
Lest they become accomplished on their own!
The women race in reality is weakening the so called privileged gentry
Shh! Not to broadcast and compromise the plan,
After all mothers, sisters, daughters, wives are doing it for generations with elan!

I, Me, Myself!

I am at the centre of Universe,
Beckoned by world to traverse.
No initiative is bigger than mine,
All are laggards whilst I shine.

My greatness is incomparable,
People around me find me unstoppable!
My choices are unchallenged and the best,
Not at all ordinary like the rest!

I am the fastest and go farthest,
They follow while I am the smartest!
My sassiness is the talk of the town,
Everyone around me seems like a clown!

I am an epitome of sacrifice,
No one gives like me- the precise advice!
My understanding of responsibility is not to be questioned,
After all, I am the chosen one- to be reckoned!

# Sarcasm (This is a sarcastic take on people who think world runs around them and dis-regard the efforts of others)

The Crimson Valley

Night of terror, havoc and brutality reigned,
Eerie silence with no one coming to their aid,
It rained bullets, it spewed hatred and acid,
Heaven turned to hell, now no more placid!

Humanity that slowly ebbed like the tide,
The ghastly and gory acts played, no where to hide;
In the survivor’s minds, never to fade until they died!

Spectators debated whether to call it genocide or exodus?
Intellectuals busy verifying facts of the tragedy and modus!
Does it matter? Whatever we call or analyse,
People butchered and diced is the reality, hope we realise!

Lesser numbers does not make it less of a crime.
Cannot forgive! When a girl was cut like wood just this one time!
Blood soaked in the snow leaving trails so grime,
Crimson valley, a witness to the horror of the ghastly regime!

Humanism we claim to believe in, but do we?
Do we really hear the cries and then flee?
Film and Media buzz brings to our attention,
Communities that are forgotten as if in detention!

Everything remains on paper, the concepts
The philosophical discussions, no one steps
When the disaster strucks, its shortlived buzz
Grabs attention, no one offers a solution, no one does!

Leading to many more such Crimson valleys!
Bloodlust, a cause or effect in those alleys!
Destruction the only result of this fanatism!
Neither love, nor peace but lust for power the only motivation.

Limbu Mirchi

The car slowed down at the signal. A barefoot half naked boy thrusted Limbu Mirchi at my face.
He said ‘ nazar nahi lagegi”!
I looked at his eager face and gave up all my beliefs.
I am no superstitious woman, but I wanted to believe this.
The fact that he was not begging and selling gave hope.

The limbu and mirchi were bringing ‘the flavour’ to their bland life. It was giving them two square meals.

I threw my beliefs out of the window and brought limbu mirchi in my life.

Everyday I take it not to ward off evil but to count the blessings of those little entrepreneurs whose hunger pangs are satiated because I became superstitious.

नजरिया

नजरिए ने औरत को देवी बना दिया;
उसीने औरत को कोठे पर बिठा दिया।
उसकी लाज को घर की चौखट पर नीलाम कर दिया;
उसके संस्कारों को जल्लाद ने सूली पर चढा दिया।

स्त्री ने पौधों की तरह कभी प्यार से आचार सींचे थे,
वहीं किसी स्त्री ने किसीकी इज्जत के चिथड़े उड़ाए थे।
पुरुष प्रधान संस्कृति ने घूंघट ओढ़ा दिया,
कहीं किसी ने उस दामन पर लांछन लगा दिया।

उसका आंचल क्या ढला, लोगों की सोच को खला,
ख्वाब में भी ना सोचा हो ऐसा खिताब मिला!
आखिर मंदिर में की देवदासी को भी नजरिए ने मारा।
तोहमत दी उन पंडों ने जिसे उसे वह बनाया!

मैखाने ने हर किसी को बदनाम किया।
नाचने वाली को लाखों इल्ज़ामो ने जोड़ दिया।
नजरिया बदल के देखा तो समझ आया,
किसी बाप ने शराब बेच, अपने बच्चे को पढ़ाया।
और किसी माँ ने नुमाइश कर, अपने लाल का पेट भरवाया।

किसी के बारे मे राय कायम करना बड़ा आसान,
पर वज़ह जानकर समझना बड़ा मुश्किल!
दृष्टिकोण का खेल है ये सब…..
सीता मैंया को भी तो अग्निपरीक्षा के बावजूद
धोबी के नजरिये ने सीमा पार करवाया!

The Affair

An enticing word on the brink of being a tease;
Secretly wished by all, afraid to appease!
Bordering on the moral fences of societal norm,
Hidden under wraps but exists in platonic or any other form.

Emotional tug or a tumble in the hay,
It is scintillating indeed, they say!
The right and the wrongs just a scale to weigh,
The exhilaration of unchartered waters leads the way!

To pin a reason is difficult, so is the game they play,
Adrenaline rush is the motivation to run astray!
The flirtatious exchanges make for an interesting foreplay!
Swimming against the current, a foolish move or a daring display? I dare not say!

Vanprasthashram-The Final Leg

It’s time to pass the baton, otherwise the relay won’t happen,
Simple is the logic, yet difficult to accept, its almost tragic!
To let go of the power, to abandon the throne,
Expected by all but easier said than done!

Vedic stages of life illustrating a path as guidance,
Making us humans independent enough to balance
Various phases of our living and existence
After enjoying the marital bliss, it’s indeed tough
When time comes to retire, to let go of action
Handing over the reins to the next generation!

Vanprasthashram- not a physical expedition,
Albeit a journey of awareness and self- actualisation,
Of detachment from the material world;
Time for the untouched spirituality to unfurl!


The Rickshawallah

The Rickshawallah was a polite demure man,
Told me his lifestory in a short time span!
Ensured my 3 year old kid could sit properly;
Before the vehicle sped into the nearby alley.
The mask sitting tight on the bridge of his nose;
Palms all rough with sanitizer that flowed.
Conversation veering from covid to hobby
He plays Tabla for his beloved Krishna at a nearby Haveli!
Such a multifaceted man with eyes that smile,
Reminded me to take everything as I got out with my huge pile;
Assured me in the same breath, just in case he will return the lost things and go the extra mile,
For I realised, he was a teacher who taught music and honesty to his students once upon a time!