I fear to liveĀ in the society now-a-daysā¦.
I fear to look at a femaleĀ because she might report me at some police station that I was trying to molest.
I fear sitting, walking beside a femaleĀ because what if I brush by her accidentally and she blames me for teasing her.
I fear to approach a girl.Ā That is because I am introverted/shy. It has nothing to do with the above-mentioned fears.
These are the fears which make my life ānot normalā.
MAN! THAT SUCKS.
*The Encounter with the Girl in a Gunny Sack*
I was passing by a construction site today.
A government hospital is being built in our neighborhood. The encounter I had just shook me to the core. There was a tree in there on which a gunny sack was hanging with a crying baby inside. The baby looked no more than a week old.
I kept staringā¦
After a minute or two, I saw a lady running towards me. Talking to her, I realized that it was a baby girl and she was the mother. She had delivered her two days earlier.
I urged her to take some rest and take care of her baby.
She said,Ā I can only do one thing right now, either I can look after her now or I can feed her in the night. I choose to feed her. After all, I am her motherā¦
I could say nothing as she hurried back to work. She was afraid that she would lose her job.
I put the small sum I had in my wallet in the gunny sack with the hope that she and her baby would not sleep hungry for at least a couple of nights.
What do you think the future holds for her?
I thinkā¦.
She will learn to look after herself at a very early age. She will know hunger and paucity. She might not go to school as her parents are laborers. She might be forced into child labor to support her family.
I am not stating any prophecy for that child. I donāt want her to live like that but thatās how most of the poverty-stricken live their lives.
In the dearth of opportunities.
Seeing the extent of poverty in my country made me cry.
.
There is darkness inside of me
I don’t know where
But it is somewhere.
It is telling me to quit.
To stop doing it.
And then
feel bad about it.
I don’t listen to the dark me.
Because I know
it won’t let me be.
But there too is light.
Though, not that bright.
Sometimes it gets lost.
Sometimes I find it.
Whenever I do, I ask it to stay,
To show me the way.
That makes me stay on the path,
to avoid the wrath,
and make sure everything is good,
in the aftermath!
Yes, they are both in me.
Staying on the opposite ends.
Like Yin and Yang.
They don’t meet.
Because they know, they will fight.
And darkness fears to lose it to the light.
So both are there on the opposite side.
maybe that’s good…
maybe that’s necessary to survive.
maybe that is what keeping me alive.
My Country India
With the stroke of midnight hour,
We made a tryst with destiny,
A nation born which was ours.
And being Indian was now our identity.
With a new life, a new idea,
Was born my country INDIA.
The tricolor is up and high,
Still, there were tears in the eye,
Remembering the struggle of those who bled,
With their blood, they color its thread.
To remember their struggle, their demise,
And to ensure our future a better sunrise,
Some new pledges and promises were made,
On them, the foundation of our Nation was laid.
With a golden pen, writing a new saga
Will reach heights my country INDIA.
70 years have passed now,
We harvest more than what we sow,
A few promises were fulfilled,
A lot not, though,
New ideas, new obligations are required,
From the struggle and sufferings, they should be inspired.
Teachings of Gandhi, Nehru, we should embody,
Mixing them with youth’s will and audacity,
We can write a harmonious melody.
With a new awakening, a new era
Will keep rising my country INDIA.
I salute the mother, this nation of mine,
With the hope in my heart,
That this generation will not get malign.
Saying all that, I am putting my pen to rest.
Because I only want My INDIA to be better than the best.
May this dawn of many millennia,
Will never leave my country INDIA.
T.H.A.N.K.S!
I cry a lot these days.
When I see the pain in my mother’s eyes,
I cry.
When I see a father sacrificing his dreams,
I cry.
When I see a soul suffering in his shell,
I cry.
When I see some child with future not well,
I cry.
When I see people getting killed in the name of honor,
I cry.
When I see a girl’s mind filled with horror,
I cry.
When people fight over religion and caste,
I cry.
Basically, when I see something unfortunate,
I cry.
I cry a lot these days.
I also cry,
When I hug my mom after a long time.
I also cry,
When I want the feelings to flow.
I also cry,
When someone helps someone in stress.
I also cry,
When I see hard work paying off success.
I cry a lot these days.
Sometime in worry,
Sometime in joy,
Sometimes in distress,
Sometimes to express,
Sometimes when I feel blessed,
And sometimes because I f*ing want to.
Courage Is To Be Able To Cry.
.
T.H.A.N.K.S!
I went shopping last week.
We were wandering store to store, outlet to outlet. (We = Me and my Friend)
Then, by mistake, we went inside a store calledĀ Forever 21Ā which doesn’t have a male section in it.
Because of our lack of experience in shopping, we didn’t know that fact.
We went deep inside looking for gents section, and then it hit us that it was female only.
Now one salesperson reached us with a weird look.
we were quite confused ourselves…
Then before she could say something, I asked her to show us something for my mother.
My friend was shocked at how I handled the situation. Which, by the way, also salvaged us from becoming a laughing stock.
And I think,Ā that’s what common sense isā¦
That day, I used this practical judgment to get out of an embarrassing situation.
Although that cost us some rupees.
But we get to surprise our mother with a gift.
After looking at her smile, this kind of embarrassing encounter turned out to be a success.
.
T.H.A.N.K.S!
Itās atrocious, bitter and discouraging. Itās like committing a crime.
Please donāt get me wrong. I can prove itā¦
This isĀ Atlee Kumar.
He is a really good Tamil director with movies like Theri, Mersal.
I got this very image on WhatsApp with this caption:
A mother to his son:Ā Put a cup full of water on the roof during summer time will get you a beautiful wife.
.
.
The son withĀ darker skinĀ put āRasnaā instead of water. And this was the result.ā
He is a star but still facing the discrimination. Just try to understand the plight of the common man/woman.
(āRasnaāĀ fruit-flavored drink likeĀ āTangā)
I donāt understand why having a darker complexion is such a bad thing?
I sometimes ask myself this question:
Is India the most racist, sexist, casteist and classist country in the world?
The answer I get is infuriating.
Yes, we have diversity but we are very far from attaining unity.
Because it is not unity when we treat people from other religion, region and color as aliens in their native country.
Spread Peace Not Hatred!
Thanks!
The Story Of My Depression.
Will you let me take you on a ride?
It is bumpy as hell…
But I will always look good from that side.
Sometimes I feel fine,
But other times I want to yell.
It is the story of my depression in a nutshell.
Please stay safe and vigilant,
While reading this piece.
Because it might trigger some sentiments,
Which can easily ruin your peace.
It is a tale of that time…
When the world looked colorless,
Everything took a grayish tone,
And I was left with the sins I couldn’t atone.
It was the timeā¦
When my body felt bloodless,
And I helpless.
I wanted to just run away,
Abandon this path to make a new way.
Which, obviously, I was not able to do,
Maybe I didn’t like that view too.
There was this consistent sadness,
Which forbade the emotions to flow.
There too was this sickness,
Which I just couldn’t overthrow.
I was in a windowless cage,
From there I couldn’t get out.
Accumulating all this rage,
That I couldn’t let out.
All my friendships obliterate,
Leaving just a few behind.
Those three lifted some of the weight,
And helped me empty my mind.
Let me tell you one thing guys,
I am not here to advertise.
This is what I felt on the inside;
My hands felt numb and my legs tied.
But I always kept telling myself,
That the hard time will soon pass.
You will again feel like yourself
Just let a person or two trespass.
It might not be the emotion,
Many souls will relate.
Some might understand the impression,
These lines are trying to expatiate.
This is all I am ready to confess,
From the times when I was in the stress.
.
Thanks For Reading!
A father was talking to his daughter,
āHow much do you love papa?ā, He asked.
āThis Much.ā The daughter answeredĀ arms outstretched.
That night the father slept in peace.
He now knows someone will be there with him his whole life.
And earlier, He thought that infinity was not measurableā¦
.
A Short-Short-Story.
.
T.H.A.N.K.S!
REGRET!
When I first saw her,
I felt something.
She might not be the most good looking one for many,
but I liked her.
People might look at her and think sheās fat,
but I couldn’t see any.
People wanted to stay away from her,
but I wanted to stay close.
I only live withĀ one regret in lifeā¦
That I couldn’t say anything to her.
Now I want to forget her,
Because she has found her happiness.
I just want to know one thing.
How should I forget my happiness?
.
T.H.A.N.K.S!
Reading!
You are not reading this by accident
thatās not a mistake
go and thank your teacher
because it is because of her
you are able to
because it was him
who taught this to you
You are not reading by accident.
it is given to you for a purpose
so don’t take it for granted.
P.S.Ā Itās written in 5 minutes. Donāt mind the quality. I am yet to refine, remold and re-write it
T.H.A.N.K.S!
The roles I play…
Breathing…
Oxygen In Carbon-dioxide out
Walking…
Just a step at a time
Thinking…
1000s of thoughts but no two chime
Laughing….
Faking it most of the time
Hoping…
Left that when I was nine
Pretending…
Always acting my way out.
Expressing…
Too little to handle
Persevering…
Only to see the next morning
Thriving…
No. Not at all
Suffering…
Yeah. Now and then
Surviving…
Barely keeping myself alive
Dying…
Oh! Yeah. A little day by day
.
T.H.A.N.K.S!
STOP MORAL POLICING!
We all know Valentine’s day is approaching,,,
And the goons of Bajrang Dal and Shiv Sena are going to wake up soon from their slumber.
These are the events listed on Facebook:
(Look at the date. And look at the people interested.)
In the name of saving Indian Culture (which is only Hindutva, in their opinion), they are actually ruining it.
I am sure, they donāt know this Hindu concept either:
Sarva Dharma Sama Bhava:Ā “All religions are the same”
They just prove it every time that they are people with misplaced ideas of ācultureā.
Bajrang Dalās slogan is āservice, safety and cultureā.
That is quite ironical because they have threatened the very notion of public safety in regions where they work, and the only culture they espouse is one of violence and irrationality.
I sometimes think that all their rage is because they canāt have a girlfriend which makes them roam freely around the neighborhood and just disturb others who do.
I want to urge this to fellow Indians, if they see these stupid people disturbing the peace and roaming with sticks to beat others, please take a stand.
Report these events on FacebookĀ or complaint about them in the police station.
Because the victims are not only the people, the constitution also suffers at the hands of such people.
T.H.A.N.K.S!
Nobody died atoning your sins. Stop taking credits and work.Ā
Sometimes.
But sometimes it will hit you so hard.
with ebbs and tides,
days and nights;
the sun and the moon,
all playing different tune.
But I gave it all backā¦
by not caving in,
by not letting the hard days win.
Well, my life has made me a poet. š
Thanks For Reading!
One time my dad and I were talking about life and stuff.
He asked me what I wanted to do in lifeā¦
Me:Ā Dad, I want to work for India. I will give civil services exam.
Dad:Ā Okay. Good.
Me:Ā But dad, I have a problem. I heard that it costs so much money. Coaching itself costs around ā¹100ā150k.
Dad:Ā Donāt worry about the money. You go and study. Weāll manage.
Me:Ā But itās a lotā¦.
Dad:Ā No more buts. I have one Fixed Deposit. We will break that and get you the required sum.
*I couldnāt say anything after that.*
Our dads know what needs to broken,Ā Dreams or Fixed Deposits.
We just donāt realize the sacrifices they are making to make us a better human.
.
I got my eyes welled up even writing about that now.
Thanks For Reading!
.
I remember this one time,
Someone just come,
And stapled my shirt.
He didn’t just stop there,
And then started to blurt.
I remember a few pierced my skin,
Seven-year-old me bled a little.
The words were still the harshest than the pins,
And those were also brutal.
I easily coped with the pain which was corporal,
I couldn’t stop the bleeding he started which was mental.
I remember the other time when I was slapped.
My hands froze and my thinking just stopped.
I remember I was stunned with the blow.
But for fellow classmates, I didn’t put up a show.
I just went out, sat down and cried in my mind…
With the shattered glasses in my hand,
Sitting with the impaired confidence in the sand,
With no one by my side to listen to and to understand.
I remember you calling me freak and dumb,
Because I always used to feel weak and numb.
I remember you calling me stupid and weak,
But I was too scared to speak.
Yes, I was hurt for a while,
Then I started to smile.
Sometimes I struggled to survive,
But I never left hope and stayed alive.
I was beaten, tormented or sometimes teased,
Left with the wounds from all those sufferings,
But you know what I never received,
The apologies from you for doing those things.
Now I don’t want one…
I am serious.
I am done.
.
Peace.
I remember the times I was bullied.
I remember this one time,
Someone just come,
And stapled my shirt.
He didn’t just stop there,
And then started to blurt.
I remember a few pierced my skin,
Seven-year-old me bled a little.
The words were still the harshest than the pins,
And those were also brutal.
I easily coped with the pain which was corporal,
I couldn’t stop the bleeding he started which was mental.
I remember the other time when I was slapped.
My hands froze and my thinking just stopped.
I remember I was stunned with the blow.
But for fellow classmates, I didn’t put up a show.
I just went out, sat down and cried in my mind…
With the shattered glasses in my hand,
Sitting with the impaired confidence in the sand,
With no one by my side to listen to and to understand.
I remember you calling me freak and dumb,
Because I always used to feel weak and numb.
I remember you calling me stupid and weak,
But I was too scared to speak.
Yes, I was hurt for a while,
Then I started to smile.
Sometimes I struggled to survive,
But I never left hope and stayed alive.
I was beaten, tormented or sometimes teased,
Left with the wounds from all those sufferings,
But you know what I never received,
The apologies from you for doing those things.
Now I don’t want one…
I am serious.
I am done.
Frozen Wisdom 