The Plea of a Woman...

Give me no love, for I shall be petrified;
Give me no pain, for I have had my share;
Give me no hunger, for my stomach has never been empty;
Give me no honesty, for I am aware of the existence of hypocrites;
Wish me no luck, for I don't believe in the power of the supernatural;
Wish me good, for I shall never reciprocate;
Wish me no bad, for despite all this I don't DESERVE IT!

Infidelity is No Joke...

When I confessed that “I love You”

You said, it wasn’t true,

An infatuation you said it was,

My heart skipped a beat to take a pause.

The blush on these cheeks soon turned pale,

Shattering the plot of my adorable fairytale.

But that’s where this damsel went wrong,

Believing that the charming prince to me did belong,

Twas the serpent of the Nile to Cleopatra who approached,

To once convey that Antony had been encroached,

For one ruth Ceasar’s sister who was waiting to be wed,

Only to later be consummated in bed

With the victorious Hercules, who for her didn’t care,

Because his love for the swan couldn’t be left bare.

But,

I’m no Cleopatra and Antony shall not come back,

Leaving me in wonder of what is it that I lack?

The question raised above is the one raised by no ordinary woman but a wife doomed under the burden of adultery. Infidelity, extra marital affairs and consequent divorces are no longer issues that remain uncommon and unheard of. Infact, their ratio in today’s world has reached a stage where they comprise as a part and parcel of our lives. However behind the apparent common are matters that are uncalled for and can disrupt the potential of a woman. Infidelity is often perceived as a sign of rejection and can invade upon and impede the perceived image of the self. This post will not go beyond to address the issue further. It has been put up on this portal only to raise questions and that’s just about what it will do.

What right do you have to first use me and then toss me away onto the heap of garbage?

Break Free from Marriage Conservatism

“It is a truth universally acknowledged that a man in possession of a good fortune must be in search for a wife.”

-Jane Austen

Famous lines such as these often set me thinking about certain social by laws laid down by God knows who for a whatnot reason. The idea of marriage has often lead to deep introspection but the idea of “searching” for a wife has left jitters running down my spine bringing along with them a feeling of discomfort. I have yet not been able to comprehend the reason behind people looking for “tall, fair, slim, convent educated girl, with traditional values” of so and so caste not to forget the recently added parameter – “MBA”. The issue that arises here,  (apart from the inherent flaws) is fairly clear - If I am an MBA myself, my fortune must be overwhelmingly loaded with a five figure salary, so consequently, why should I be available for a man, highly accomplished with money in thy purse???

Marriage is one such Institution whose rules and regulations have not changed over a period of time. No MBA could draw out an innovative strategy like the “Marriage Mix” and there shall be no second Michael Porter to chart out the five forces that could avert the atrocities of the legacy of this Institution. Parents in the 20^th Century are very modern when it comes to upbringing their daughters in the so called “modernized paradigm” and yet would take a comfortable back end when it comes to Marriage Conservatism. But what annoys me most to the extent of ripping my nerves apart is that many young girls today (by young I mean as young as 22-23yrs) are more than happy to conform passively to the long treaded path of their mothers and grandmothers to find a “perfect match” for themselves.

What the older generation conveniently ignored and the younger generation fails to rationalize upon is that there is no “perfect match” that can be found by searching for it. Marriage is a union of two souls and their compatibility cannot be mapped by others but is a direct consequence of their regard for each other. In today’s world, a convent educated girl has all rights to step out into the open with all her accomplishments to make a choice. The idea is that change is inevitable and must fight against all odds to assert and yet again re-assert itself. It’s now time for our lasses to inadvertently break free from the shackles of slumber and question in wrath, the barbarity and enormity of Conventionalism.

It’s Called Eve Teasing

What I’m going to write today is not driven out of empathy for the one facing the brunt of societal evil, but is purely drawn out of a narrated experience. It is something that each woman reading this would have experienced at one point or the other. But before I actually begin let me offer my salutations to my muse, a dear friend. I would also like to offer my tribute to my personal che (the inner Supreme guiding force) who has liberated me (after great introspection) from all inhibitions associated with such issues.                

                             

It was just another of those nights when we, future managers, sitting in our hostel rooms decided that it’s been long since we had taken a break and must do so immediately. Such is the power of impulse when it overtakes your mental faculties. Girls sitting in the protective shield of the four walls of that dorm will be willing to quit it straight away and head out as Comrades into the dark roads of the outer evil world.(My very intellectual Reader is expected to interpret dark in both its literal and metaphorical sense). The idea of the “break” is so luring that girls often forget Mommy’s lesson taught long ago, “Always return before its dark and never ever step out after its dark”.

Three girls in a car, driving down the cold empty roads of a city unknown, to a destination unseen, waiting to be evaded, only to be experimented upon. However, the opposite sex is not really as benevolent as we perceive it to be. Yes, we are in a liberal world, but Liberalization accompanies its own drawbacks. The hawks in the night are always hungry for the long necks of the swans. These hawks were on their bikes next to our car, admiring the appealing necks of the swans. One word! Another! A few more! (In admiration or lechery is for my Reader to judge). But that was it. Our Comrade girls were not willing to take in any more s**t. They would give it back and yes they did! Their bows were out shooting arrows of “B**t**d! A****le! Go f**k your mother.”

Uncouth is it Reader? Does it shock you?

Eve teasing, it is called. But was Eve drawn out of Adam’s ribs to be teased???

A Cry Out – LOUD

(by a girl who was abused Sexually, Emotionally and Mentally)

I’m sure you know me. I am just another ordinary girl, who dwells in the slums of the capital of your beloved Country. My Mommy works for a noble blue blooded lady who resides in the south of our capital. She keeps her house uncontaminated so that our noble mistress’ noble children are not struck by a mini virus while I lay here midst the most dreadful and horrific diseases; she cooks the most appetizing and scrumptious delicacies for them while most of the times I go to bed with a starving stomach; she also feeds little master Rony with her own milk while my irritating younger brother lays weeping on the floor probably craving for the milk that was drenched out by the evil sucker. But I don’t complain because Mommy always asks me not to. She says someone called Providence has provided us with all down here and is constantly watching us, and I should not annoy him by cribbing for what I have been unfortunately denied. So I sit here in this crunched up space awaiting her return each day.

Sometimes she takes me along to the big house. It’s elaborate and beautiful but I don’t like it there when saab (the Karta of this palace) is around. He often takes me to the storeroom at the back of the house. He tells me he will play with me but he doesn’t play. He tickles me all over, he then pinches my nipples and shoves his big thing into my pussy. I don’t like it and it hurts but I dare not utter a word for Mommy says you need not tell no one but God. I am scared when I look into his eyes and so I always look away. I scream when it hurts but none hear and after a while I don’t because the more I scream the more it seems to hurt. But one day sister Martha came to visit us and since Mommy always says she is God’s messenger, I told her to tell God. Sister Martha looked annoyed and I don’t know what she told Mommy that made her cry all night. Sister Martha took me to Inspector saab the next day and told me to tell him what I told her. I said I can’t because Mommy said you must never tell no one but God. She didn’t understand and told Mommy I was an “Impure Bitch”. I asked Mommy what that means but she wouldn’t talk to me anymore. She doesn’t go to the big house either. I sometimes regret telling Sister Martha about it. I don’t believe she is God’s messenger anymore. I cry a lot these days, way too often but nobody seems to care. I wonder what people mean when they say my soul is “tainted”???

Soliloquy of a Prostitute

If you ask me Reader, I will not even be able to precisely recall the day I was thrown into the dungeons of this world; that shall not be talked about with someone as elitist and polished as you. One must not be disgraceful Reader, I am aware, but this disgrace is the shadow of the world that I inherited, and inheritance good or bad is inherently characterized by the virtue of its own property of being inevitable. I was aware of the ideas of consumption and consummation at an age that should have bloomed with memories of innocence. But such is the grace of the Superior Master who invented your world, and if so it is, It is Praiseworthy!

I beg you not to abhor me Reader, because I trade my body, for my soul is still intact, long protected from the perversions of its Perpetrators. The rules of this trade are such that once this piece of molded clay is stained there is no outlet that shall enable me to avert it. But this I do not offer as an excuse for my sins, rather it is my effort to ameliorate the judgments that you have formed about me influenced by the morals of your world.

I am only looking for a few answers and before you get hassled let me assure you that I do not expect them from you. Neither is it introspection since I know I shall not be able to justify even if I tried a good peep into my soul, but such is the inquisitive nature of this being and it is inevitable. I look for those eyes Reader, eyes that inhabit the sea of love and not the hounds of lust, eyes that Inhabit a quarter of respect and not the lulls of a Lech, for I do not commit this crime to gain coins of gold but because I hardly have a choice!

Pardon me Reader, if I ask for the unforsaken…