Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and right-doing,
there is a field. I'll meet you there.
When the soul lies down in that grass,
the world is too full to talk about.
Ideas, language, even the phrase "each other" doesn't make any sense.

- Rumi


Saturday, December 10, 2011

Foetal Mass of a Grey Romance


The Womb of my Heart has been Gestating a seed-
The seed of a seemingly Grey Romance,
It floats in the matrix of my heart's belly,
Not knowing whether to attach to or flow out of me,
The seed seems to be yours,
The belly is but mine,
Strange it is that it got into me,
Wihtout us making love even in the dark!

At times it rattles the calm out of me,
Other times it awakens the tenderness in me,
Tickling me with its gentle rush
It sometimes brings a smile on my face.
But come the night and it chooses to rest,
It stays still as if in a motionless swoon,
While I lay disturbed, unable to sleep,
It sleeps away as if on calculated purpose
To mercilessly punish me for my follies,
That deathly silence of your living seed
Begins a chaos deep within me,
A cahos that then becomes a huge battle,
A battle between me and the you with me!

The seed has now begun to stick to the heart's belly,
Trying to root itself into the walls,
All I can do is sit back and watch,
Watch it grow and breathe within me,
Feel it kick and turn inside me,
I have but kept my inner walls open
For you to spray your favourite pesticides
And reduce your seed into a clotted mass,
When you begin to feel you dont want its birth
Through the belly of a woman like me.
I would not object the uprooting process,
If given the choice I wud but beg,
Beg you to not  rattle the heart,
For its was not my fault at all
That the sun did not shine upon my heart!

Sunday, November 27, 2011

Take Me Home


Take me away,
Away from Conscience,
Away from Judgments,
Away from Conflicts,
Away from Sight,
Away from Perceptions,
Away from Touch,
Away from Me
Away to a Home.

Take me to a Park,
To sit on one of the benches
Force me to ponder ,
Force me to talk,
Force me to confess,
Listen when I talk,
Abuse when I lie,
Hold me when I Cry.


Take me to the Hills,
Let me run,
Push me off the cliffs
Hold me before I fall,
Show me the highest peak
Challenge my own height,
Point out to the foothills
Scare me with their depths.

Take me to the Waterfalls,
Take a handful of the clear water,
Question my own purity,
Look me in the eyes
And tell me they are shallow,
Toss me down the falls
And save me before I drown.

Take me to a Cemetry,
Make me count the tombs,
Confuse me with death,
Make me yearn for life,
Ask me to suicide
And stop me before I attempt.

Help me sort myself,
And confuse me when I find peace,
Weaken my convictions
And give me new ones to believe.
Laugh at my ignorance,
Smile at my innocence,
Take me to Tranquility,
Lead me to truth,
Deafen my ears, 
Strengthen my voice,
Tell me I am Right,
Tell me I am Free,
Take me to You,
And tell me I am Home!

Sunday, November 20, 2011

Paradise Lost


Beyond success, beyond convincing the people around, beyond accumulating a fat sum in the bank account, beyond adventure, beyond lust, beyond rage,beyond pressure, beyond betrayal,beyond ego; there lies a placid,unsettlingly calm Serenity. It is the state of wanting nothing but an understanding of the momentary nature of existence- the state called living life in its Real sense! 
All of us are often under the mistaken impression that life is always about earning something or making something out of it. Life of course is an opportunity thrown at each one to make the most of it, but what amounts to making the most is where we have the confused notions.From the perspective of God who is believed to be placed well above us and who can see us all the time, human beings might be looking like such Zombies! We claim to know almost everything about life. We, who dont even stop for a minute to feel the rains falling on the palms, we, who dont feel the seas have secrets deeper that their depths, we, who do not understand that love is not always about being happy, claim to have conqured all aspects of life. We instill the same sense of pride in our young ones and make them ignorant too. The result is that the world has come to the peak of its ruthlesness. We have people who aspire to become millionares, people who are willing to give up their morals and more to get where they want to, people who have no problem with killing someone who stands against them,people who will happily sell off even the soil under their feet to make it big! 

You might be wondering what the connection between all these things is. Well,this post is a result of all the raised voices I hear around me complaining about the lost goodness of the world and my answer and logic is that the small and insignificant things like rain and seas and peace I mentioned above are actually the big things in life. The more we fail to become soft within, the more we refuse to respect the simple decencies of human life, the deeper the trouble and the greater the recklesness. Sitting and looking at the trees around or romanticising nature is not the exclusive job of the writers and other creative people. All of us should learn to wonder at the mysteries of nature and understand the fact that life is too small to waste time being malicious.Maybe the dissapearence of spirituality and the lack of spiritual education at schools is adding fuel to the degeneration of the already destroyed state of our minds. It is understood that for a middle class man who struggles to make his ends meet,it is impractical to sit and think of the philosophy of living life. But again we can all place our hearts at the right place and choose not to be unnecessarily deceptive.All of us complain about the world and its lost sensitivity but none of us realise that it is we who have changed. No government or leader can fix it. No ideology can bring back the lost goodness. The change has to happen within each soul. Its a transformation that needs to take place and noone else can do it for us. We say that the world was a paradise before and that now things are going out of hand. Well, it is we who live in this world and we who have to regain the lost paradise.Living with the heart in the right place is a single and effective panacea to almost all the issues we face, but sadly, nobody wants to do that because whats the fun in being good hearted afterall? All you can get is a lot of enemies, tons of loneliness and a tag titled "boring" stuck onto the forehead!
Being straightforward does lead one to the serenity I mentioned above. It shows one that beyond everything, there is a silence and it is in that silence that life lies! It is a lonely shore as most souls dont reach there, but even in the lonliness of being straightforward, there is a sense of pride. A sense of accomplishment and purity- the experience of having found the divinity within the soul. This might sound absurd to the majority because to reach this shore one has to be beyond mediocrity and beyond the noises of the material world.
*This is not to suggest that ambition and zest are all a fallacy. This is to humbly remind that even ambition should be driven, driven by genuine passion and clarity of the conscience. 

Tuesday, September 20, 2011

Its Love All The Way

She woke up before the sun. Shabby, disoriented, lazy. She looked around to find a curled up husband sleeping next to her. The room was in an unorganizable confusion of strewn around clothes and papers. Amidst all the mess and through her sleepy eyes, she looked at him beside her. To her, he was the cutest thing on earth and she bend down to kiss him softly on his cheeks. An unconscious smile she expected to see but he just fidgeted and turned around to continue his comfortable sleep. She smiled, trying not to feel too bad and trying to justify his reaction with reasons of his fatigued state of mind and body, she got up to start her day. The clock ticked away and after an hour of cleaning and organising things, she got started with the cooking. After all the slogging she finally moved towards the bathroom to attend to her needs and give herself a pamper with water. By the time shes ready for office, He had dressed himself up and taken his breakfast which she laid on the table. They were getting late for office and he frowned at her speed. She apologised and walked out with him, with an empty stomach, ear rings in her hand (which she wears on the way) and her files in the other hand. At the bus stop he ran away to catch his bus, without telling her, without looking back. She smiled again, thinking how much of a silly romantic she was and waited for her bus to come. While she waited, she felt the glances of many male eyes sliding through the folded chiffon of her deep green saree. She pulled the cloth to herself rapidly and tried to not get conscious of it. The morning sun rays begin to get hotter and yet her bus hadn’t arrived. She waited there, thinking of where he might have reached. She felt apprehensive thinking of a sweaty him, dehydrated by the sun rays and humidity. Again, her mind sensed the looks on her body from the many men standing next to her. Her deep eyes reddened inside the outline of her black khol. She felt a sudden rise of revolt and a sense of insecurity at the same time. She longed to run to him and stay safe inside his hug. She wanted to talk to him but put aside the idea reserving it for the late evening when she can finally get back to their home and him. At the government hospital where she works as a Gynaecologist, she sat in her consultation room, her nose clogged with the smell of the phenyl with which the sweeper just washed the toilets. One by one, her patients came in. Pregnant ladies, young girls with menstrual irregularities, victims of rape, incest, women with heads bowed down by the weight of shame, wives who are worried over their inability to bear a child.....a long array of troubled women with various problems. She examined each one, talked to them, sometimes cried with them, shared their excitements, relieved their apprehensions. She felt like a midwife sometimes, sometimes like a saviour, sometimes a murderer. All through the day, she had a feeling of anxiety about him. Even while she was engrossed in her examinations she wondered how his day was going, she wondered whether he might even have thought of her once, she hoped he ate his lunch on time and didn’t get exhausted by the sun. She wanted the day to end so that she could get back to her zone of comfort. At the hospital she found herself feeling helpless about the miseries of womanhood. She was deeply pained. She felt vulnerable herself and wanted to run back to him, she wanted to cry. In the evening she got home late to find he wasn’t home yet. She felt too lazy to change and lay on the bed in her deep green saree. When he returned, she ran to hug him and he shrugged her off after a brief embrace. She wanted to tell him about how bad she felt while listening to some of the experiences her patients told her but decided against it as he seemed tired himself. In bed that night, she found herself unable to sleep and a deeply asleep him next to her. All she could do was get up and stand for a while staring outside the balcony. All day she waited to get back home, to cuddle up next to him, to feel secure. The world outside seemed to disown her. She felt like she didn’t have a place to belong to. While all this happened, he slept soundly. The moment he woke up that day morning, he looked at the neatly arranged room and the clean house. He felt slightly guilty for having made her do it all alone and went to look for her. Finding her taking her bath, he too went off to get himself dressed and ready. On the dining table he was delighted to find his favourites and wanted to thank her for it. Since she didn’t show up and he had an urgent meeting to attend, he had his breakfast and when she came, presuming her to have had her meal, he hurried her and they walked out. At the bus stop, seeing his bus come along he ran to catch it fearing he might get late for office if he let it go. All along the way he wondered why she did not call him back for a goodbye kiss and smiled at himself for being such a silly romantic. He faced a tiring day at office and while he lunched he wondered if she had taken her’s. He laughed to himself imagining her funny face while she ate green apples with him during their weekend walks near the marine drive. He wanted to hold her in a hug and pushed the thought reserving it for the evening. The hypocrisies of the corporate life bored him and he wanted to talk to her. He wanted to be his genuine self and hug onto her and listen to her babyish giggles. Too tired after a draining day’s work and the travel back home, he entered his place to find a sleeping her. He felt his love brimming for her and let her sleep peacefully. When she suddenly got up and hugged him, he felt himself the luckiest man on earth. Feeling guilty about not having talked to her and sensing that she was upset about something, he felt uncomfortable. He let go of her trying to avoid a direct conversation which might uncover his guilt. In bed that night he found her silent and lost in thoughts. He wanted to ask her what it was but did not ask fearing what he would say if she said she felt he no longer loved her or that she did not love him. He would be broke without her and hence he silently closed his eyes and fell off to sleep. Below the same roof, two people who loved each other deeply spent that night in solitude. One gazing pointlessly at the world outside the balcony, and the other, sleeping on his bed. It’s often a hard life in which making a living comes first and everything else becomes less prioritised for the people of their class. But when two people like them live together, and deeply love each other, the burden can be eased with expressions of love. The hard life they live can be antidoted with moments of shared solitude and soft conversations. We look for happiness in all places but often fail to enjoy it even if its at a tangible distance, just a conversation away. Life has its own course and in order to survive, we have to move with the practicalities of the world. Letting the race for survival push out love from our priority list is suicidal. Love has to be expressed, the heart needs to be reassured and the skin needs to be touched. To forget to fall in love each day with everything around is to not live at all. Life might bring with it all the testing moments. It might put each one to dead ends. But whatever be it, human life is based on companionship. It truly is Love all the way. In the end, all that matters is a home to belong to and love to sustain you!

Monday, September 19, 2011

No Man Like You

"He".

He was my rain cloud.The one cloud that added a tinge of grey to my crimson skies.The one touch of dark realities that gave me true vision through my dreamy eyes.He was the red of Revolution and the white of Peace. The flow of my Poetry and the hollow of my Solitude.He was my idea of Perfection. The culmination of multitudes,the default configuration I looked for in every other man!
I still sense his smell, the smell of old wine. His wooden drawer still holds his large dialed watch. The thick rimmed spectacles, the small pocket diaries. His files full of jottings. His favourite fountain pen.
Each night as I sit by my lonely bed to write down my heart's heaviness, I relive those many nights when he was by my side. Those night long conversations which gave me direction. His gentle looks on me that made me have faith in myself.He dwells in every inch of me. My flesh and thoughts are all his seeds.He was the first man I learned to trust, to love and to fall back on. He completed me always.I saw numerous men come and go in my life. I lived a failed matrimony which rotted down beneath stale epressions of love.I survived nights of love making devoid of any love. I discovered every facet of masculinity,travelled through each of its meandering valley,yet no one like Him I met.I saw admiring eyes which had respect for me,my words,my poetry, but none like his, which had the warmth of the first sun rays through the winter snow.I felt touches of burning passion all over me, but none like his soothing ruffles on my hair.I heard lips that praised my emerald eyes,but none like his that kissed the emptiness flowing out of them.
Now when I fall into the bottomless pits of lonliness, I miss him. I miss those gentle looks, those reassuring pats on my shoulders, his being there while I lay insecure in bed, his presence in my everyday affairs.
He was,is and will always be my only male Love. The one and only man I can think of and feel a sense of loss. Looking back at life, I do not miss anyone else as much as I miss him. Thinking of the other male occurences, I dont want any of them back in my life.I dont regret having let go of any of them, but Him. And at this point I feel that the only man who will always be a motivating and consoling presence for a woman all through is Him- Him,the Father.
The only man-woman relationship in which the man is not jealous of the woman's creativity,the only relationship in which he is not intimidated by her intelligence or independance, the only relationship in which he does not become a typical male and chain her in his own egos. It is the only equation wherein the man wishes the woman rises above him, he lets her go and be herself, he finds a justification in her every vice.All this he does and stands far away, watching her go on,not expecting anything in return.
At the dusk on my life, when I have traversed through all phases of intriguing uncertainities,I have come to realise this- No one like you Daddy! No man like you ever!

Sunday, September 18, 2011

Him and Her

He is the Winter Breeze and She is a Window Flower,
She blooms by her Window,
He passes by Gently,
She Cranes her neck to see him through the tinted window pane,
And He breathes heavily to Crack the glass and Kiss her scented cheeks,
Those brief meetings separated by the tinted window pane,
Are all they have and All they need,
For He, is the Winter Breeze and She, a Window Flower!


He is the Black Night’s Moon and She is a White Water Lilly,
He reflects his Love into her containing waters,
She takes them in, Drop by Drop,
He longs to fall down from the skies and dissolve into her,
And She tries to grow higher up and touch his scars,
Those short night hours separated by the distance of the skies and the earth
Are all they have and All they need,
For He, is the Black Night’s Moon and She, a White Water Lilly!

He is the Blue Sea Wave and She is a Mass of Coral,
He lashes his Love onto her coarse exteriors,
She drenches herself in his salty white foam,
He sails hard to pull her from her fixture, To free her inner self,
And She wriggles to detach her from the sandy bed, To Float in him,
Those everyday struggles of freeing and finding each other
Are all they have and All they need,
For He, is the Blue Sea Wave and She, a Mass of Coral!

He is a Midnight’s Dream and She is a Sleeping Damsel,
He sings to her in her dreamy hours,
She listens on as if it was Real,
He tries desperately to not let her wake up and break their dreamy spell,
And She keeps her eyes tightly shut to retain him within her dreamy eyelids,
Those moments of illusion thrown to them while she sleeps,
Are All they have and All they need,
For He, is a Midnight’s Dream and She, a Sleeping Damsel!

He is the Falling Rain and She is an Indoor Plant,
He showers down outside her door, Upon her roof,
She bends over to slither through the door, To feel a drop,
He tries vigorously to spray through her door, To sprinkle his Love on her,
And She wishes the roof cracks to let him in, To let them Kiss,
Those minutes of rain separated by her roofs and doors
Are All they have and All they need,
For He, is the Falling Rain and She, an Indoor Plant!


Him and Her,
So many Forms,
So many ways,
Each one so different,
Yet So Similar!
The soul within every Him
And the self within every Her,
Hope to meet each other without being held
By curious fears and gripping doubts,
To fall in Love without deliberations,
And to die on each other as if it was war!

Tuesday, August 30, 2011

"Women Empowerment - Indian Perspectives"

“All agree in recognizing the fact that females exist in the human species. Today, as always, they make up about one half of humanity. And yet we are told that femininity is in danger. If today femininity no longer exists, then it never existed. But does the word Woman, then, have no specific content? ”
- Simone de Beauvoir

Women Empowerment has been the epicentre of social development in our country for almost a decade now. Ever since we woke into the dawn of independence, bringing women at par with men has been a serious concern for the civil society. Today, with globalisation and technological explosions in the scene, it is believed that the situation is ripe for women to extract maximum advantage out of their opportunities. The recognition of Women’s rights by the Constitution, birth control campaigns, criminalisation of sex selective abortions, improvements in the sphere of education with respect to girl children etc have been pointed out to be conducive to the Women Empowerment movement.
While all this remains, the question is, why women don’t feel internally empowered and secure enough to go out and chase their dreams. It can be seen that women constantly live under a fear of being attacked. While in men the fear is of being robbed or fatally injured, in women the concern is of being sexually assaulted. Unless she feels sure that she can walk on the streets without the fear of being violated, she cannot be empowered. All external instrumentalities of empowerment will fail miserably if the internal empowerment does not happen. The external opportunities designed to bring the fair sex to the forefront of developmental activities are fruitless if they do not germinate a sense of internal liberation within the woman.
This presentation attempts to chronicle the socio political and moral connotations that exist in the collective conscience of the society which bring into existence the sense of insecurity in women and lower the definition of the term ‘Woman’ to that of a mere vagina or a womb.

Analysis of the root cause of this fear in women will be done under the following two main heads:

• Women and the concept of “Virginity”

• The institution of marriage and its decisive nature in determining the social status of a woman


1. Women and Virginity – Societal norms and their effect on women

The primary concern of majority women seems to orbit around their virginity or what the society construes to be their bodily purity. The concept of virginity in the context of the Indian society is about having an intact hymen and not indulging in sexual intercourse before a woman is legally and rightfully married off. The celibate woman is expected to be a virgin. This image of woman has been maintained since times immemorial and is continued to remain so even today.
In such a scenario, it is forced upon every woman to see to it that she remains a virgin in the eyes of the immediate society around her, so that she can lead a socially acceptable life. The society polices her in every move and keeps a ceaseless vigil over her activities. It looks for instances which can be used against her to label her as a vamp.
In this sort of an environment, if at all the woman falls prey to any kind of sexual abuse or assault, the society will look down on her and she will become an untouchable, unacceptable being. She will lose her identity and dignity and will be shunned by the people around her even though the unfortunate incident which took place was not due to her fault.
This fear of being shunned by the society creates an insecure feeling in the mind of every woman. This makes her think twice before she decides to get out of her house. She deliberates on how she will be able to get back home and by what time she will be able to return. All such calculations are made with respect to a careful analysis of the possibility of being attacked by some random pervert on the streets. Such thoughts hold back women from going out and doing the things they love or even doing their hard earned jobs.
When this mental conflict is correlated to the realm of women empowerment, it can be rightfully concluded that unless women feel bold enough to walk out of their homes and be sure to be able to return without being harmed, they will hesitate to involve in productive activities even if they are educated or have been provided with various opportunities to develop their potentials. Apart from having contempt for victims of sexual assault, the issue of female reproductive and sexual autonomy lie at the core of passionately held ideological, religious and cultural notions of female gender identity. Even when there is no direct State involvement, governments have frequently been complicit in abuses against women that are carried out in the name of tradition, culture or religion by purposefully turning a blind eye towards them. Societies in all regions of the world create social arrangements to order interaction among members of the community; these arrangements almost always include distinct gender roles. The failure to ensure that women remain within the boundaries of their socially defined sexual roles is widely considered to tarnish not only the woman’s reputation but also her family’s or even her entire community’s honour. Thus, women, not men who engage in the so called “immodest” behaviour are attacked by the society. The international community has also been timid about condemning abuses cloaked in terms of cultural, traditional or religious imperatives, especially when they affect the sensitive domain of female sexuality. In doing so, governments have failed to uphold the principle of universality of Human Rights. The 1993 World Conference on Human Rights declared- “While the significance of national and regional particularities and various cultural and regardless backgrounds must be borne in mind, it is the duty of the States, regardless of their political, economic and cultural systems to promote and protect all Human Rights and fundamental freedoms.” Further, cultural defences for violation of women’s freedom and rights in the context of female sexuality also warrant careful scrutiny as they often don’t reflect a true concern for public or social order and are exploited by people with vested interests .

This is where we spot the major flaw of the women empowerment movements of the modern day.
These notions of virginity and their decisive role in determining the social status of a woman affect empowerment adversely.



2. Women and the institution of marriage

The institution of marriage is given paramount importance in the social life on India. Polygamy has been prohibited by law and couples are expected to stick on to the marriage and go together for a lifetime. The scene is changing now to a limited extent with the onset of liberal views on individual freedoms and cohabitation without a legal marriage is being accepted to a large extent. But looking at the larger picture, it is seen that the family is treated as the nucleus of civilization even today and thus, marriages become important.
As observed in The Second Sex , marriage is the destiny traditionally offered to women by the society. The celibate woman is defined and explained with respect to marriage - whether she was married, plans to get married, is married or rebellious about marriage.
Every human existence involves transcendence and immanence at the same time; to go forward, each existence must be maintained, for it to expand towards t the future, it must integrate the past and while intercommunicating with others, it should find self-confirmation. These two elements- maintenance and progression- are implied in any living activity and for the man, marriage permits precisely a happy synthesis of the two. In his occupation and his political life he encounters change and progress, he senses his extension through time and the universe; and when he is tired of such roaming he gets himself a home and settles down and has an anchorage in the world. But, the woman has no other job than to maintain and provide for everyday life in an orderly way. She perpetuates the species without change; she ensures the even rhythm of the days and continuity of the home, seeing to it that the doors are locked. But she is allowed no direct influence upon the future nor upon the world. She reaches out beyond herself towards the social group only through her husband as intermediary.
Even though times have changed, this is the basic situation of a woman in almost every marriage. Even if she is employed, she has to adjust her prospects in tandem with the likes of her husband and extended family. She has to give birth within a considerable time period after marriage to gain the love of her in-laws. At the same time, the man has no such restraints on his personal liberty even when he is equally part of the marriage.
Further, the woman is held so tight by the pathological grip of moral beliefs and conjugal obligations that she has to think many times before she decides to walk out of a marriage which of course is not the case with a man. She often loses her right to sexual and reproductive freedom and is made to stick onto the marriage despite all these facts by the society around.
This kind of predominance of the institution of marriage also creates a sense of insecurity in women whereby they hesitate to venture into challenging sectors of work and art. Marriage is considered as an inevitable event in the life of a woman and the people around make it almost impossible for her to live by herself.
This tendency of the woman to give up her identity to maintain her marriage eventually dispenses off her inner strength and her urge to grow beyond her limitations.
While such deep rooted concerns continue to breed inside the mind of women, their empowerment is not possible regardless of how much opportunity they are provided with.


Suggested remedies
Coming to the possible suggestive remedies that can be put forth to correct the internal insecurities faced by women, it is felt that a considerable quantum of difference can be brought about through:
• Strengthening the sphere of education with respect to women and instilling in them awareness about their rights and the willingness to fight against violations of the feminine self

• Ensuring that women become economically independent

• Initiating a change in attitude of the male society around

Empowerment essentially means to equip or supply with ability. Therefore, it does not concern itself with external factors alone; rather it is about the internal liberation of an individual. Empowerment should enable a person to form independent views on various aspects of life and also stand strong and express them without inhibitions. For the women empowerment movements to bear fruit, it has to be ensured that women are empowered from within. They have to realise that they have a self, an identity and worth. They too are human resources who have social responsibilities to fulfil and also take active part in turning the wheels of civilization and democracy. Only if this realisation becomes strong in women and a social environment conducive to the manifestations of such realisations is provided to them, can they be empowered in the real sense of the term.
To start with, education has the most important role to play in shaping up a woman of strong beliefs and awareness. Education should seek to generate a sense of individuality in a woman and help her to break free from the yolks of conventional conditionings. She should be let free to choose her field of work and she should be taught not to give up herself for the selfish and egoistic demands of someone else. While saying this, there intends to be not the slightest hint that women should be made to become self-centred and arrogant (as the modern day Feminists think they should be). But nonetheless, women should be made aware of their rights.
There exists a sense of shame in women which holds them back from admitting the occurrence of a sexual assault or any other incident of the same nature. This sense of shame has to be converted into a sense of rebellious stubbornness through education. There is absolutely no need to die in shame in such cases, rather, women should come up and fight against the perpetuators of their violation.
Moreover, education should mould a woman to understand that nobody has a right over her body no matter at what time or place she is and with whom she is. It is only such realisations that can help women overcome their mental blocks and insecurities. A woman’s life is a constant struggle to find herself as well as to fit into the societal norms of modesty, and in it, most of the times, she is made to drown herself and live according to the unwritten but compelling dictates of the immediate society around, including her family. Only when she is given the autonomy to be herself from within will the external instrumentalities of empowerment offered to her find meaning.
The aspect of economic independence also plays a decisive role in determining a woman’s existence and her options. If she is economically self-reliant, she can make her own decisions with regard to her travelling, lodging, work etc. She can opt to live in a much more liberal fashion and also have a say in deciding matters in the family. Moreover, she will not have to hold on to an unhappy marriage if she has the means to sustain herself and maintain her dependants even if she breaks off from the wedlock. The absence of an alternative source of income often becomes the reason behind women sticking onto marriages and succumbing to the dictates of the man. Thus, economic independence is a great relief and violation of women’s freedoms can be antidoted with it to a large extent.
The most important and difficult aspect which hinders the process of women empowerment is the attitude of the male community around. Women have always been viewed as a commodity for sexual use by man and even today, remnants of that archetype exists in the collective conscience of the male society. They are today the most dreaded beings as we see an indiscriminate increase in the number of sexual crimes against women in the most heinous forms. Even within the family, instances of sexual abuse and incest are on the rise. With such happenings all around, the woman is made to feel all the more insecure and she has begun to feel that nothing can actually give her concrete protection from sexual abuses. This fear hinders her intellectual digestion and creates blocks which form a hard cyst around her sense of freedom.

These issues all relate to the mental frame of women and are inextricably intertwined with their sense of empowerment. Unless a woman is made to feel that she is secure and can assert herself without the fear of being isolated, she cannot be empowered. Legal and political safeguards come only at the next level of empowerment. First of all, these issues should be looked into and then, there should be a synthesis of the external and internal forces to bring about an effective empowerment model.

The discussion here was with respect to the large majority of the Indian women and their mental frame in the context of the morality of the Indian society. The situation is different in the western world as their concept of virginity and marriages are far liberal and they give importance to individual choices above the creation of a community life. Even in India, the situation changes in the case of the elite upper class women who can afford luxuries and don’t often heed to the opinions of the society around them. But again, the large majority of womenfolk in the country are still ignorant of their rights and live by the society’s concept of how they should live.
To empower a woman is to refuse to confine her to the relations she bears to man and not to deny them to her. It is to let her have her independent existence.
Woman must not be made to accept, she must be made to challenge. She must not be awed by that which has been built up around her; she must revere that woman in her which struggles for expression.

Thursday, July 28, 2011

Sugar Sticks!

All I want is to hold onto that timid little finger,
Bite onto those neatly cut white sugar cubes that crown your fingers,
Play with that slender ring finger,
Fight with that short fat thumb,
Kiss the insides of your palms,
Smudge red love on your cotton white wrists,
Nuzzle those curvy round knuckles with the tip of my nose,
Try constantly to open your closed fists,
Keep counting your fingers as though I’d never figure how many you have,
All I want to do is keep pulling your palms to my belly,
And remain in my sleep safe inside the embrace!

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

A Mother Is Born

My belly ached to empty itself,
As I lay on the stained white cloth
Under the damp ceiling of the hospital room.
Hair in a mess,
Wide stretched legs,
Sweaty I lay crushing the bedcloth under my palms.

At every killing push of pain
Your face flashed before my eyes,
Those rainy nights,
Our playful days,
Those moments of slimy wild thrills,
The love that brimmed in every touch,
The clumsy warmth of every breath.

Scared I lay on the bed,
On the urine stained white cloth,
Tired of crying to myself,
My growling belly ready to burst,
My legs wet of bleeding life.

At the last push of frightening hurt,
My insides emptied onto the floor,
The drops of love you wet me with
On those rainy July nights!

My puffy eyes closed into sleep,
My body shaken by the strain,
Mind completely at peace,
I lay content in a blissful sleep.
You gave birth to the mother in me,
And I kept the word I gave you,
To go through hell or pricking pain
Just to see a smiling you!

Friday, July 15, 2011

White Funeral

Let us make a coffin,
Neatly painted in snow white,
With Lilly buds all over,
Let us engrave my name onto it
With your's at the end,
Let me place into it all that was left unsaid,
Every single breath,
Moments of magic,
All the long pauses,
The deep ocean of our silence,
Utterances in between the muteness,
The plucked jasmine petals.
Join me in the funeral
Of what we watered all these years,
Lets uproot our plant
And destroy all its seeds,
Together lets pray
That our restlessness finds rest in our coffin of eternal silence!

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Scarred White

My lonely moon,
I am here
Sitting by my open window,
Waiting for you to peep through foggy clouds,
Waiting to see my scars reflect in your eyes.
I know you have shiny stars resting on your chest,
I know you have icy winds to thrill you,
Dancing bellies of the night birds to groove with,
You have beautiful lotus petals down in the waters
Looking expectantly to touch you.
You have other belles sitting by open windows whom you love looking at.
But its only me who writes about you,
Its only me who knows you are feeble,
Only I know that you feel insecure about your deep scars,
I know it all even if you never told me.
That dosent make you mine, I know
But even then,
Peep through,
Just once,
Before the sun overpowers your charms,
Peep through at me
For that will give me a whole night's peace!

The Witch Within

As I stood drenching my skin in the dark night showers,
The black rain smudged onto my pores
Melting the molten khol in my eyes,
Causing it to drip down like fluid black metal from my eye ores,
Like a dynamite the black rain made explosions in my inner mines,
The burning coal and molten gold within me pushed their way out,
Through my open belly button they spilled out, mingling with the rain drops.
Reducing me to a smoky mass of crumbling metals,
I shed my mortal skins,
My skin turned pitch black and I transformed myself into a Black Witch
Exorcising disturbed creatures and calling out to sleeping spirits,
I wandered like the mistress of darkness,
The queen of mystery,
Searching for myself in every thunderbird's flutter,
Spitting fire on every hissing python,
Kissing hard on every grave I met,
Praying to live on forever in this bubble of freedom
Hoping never to put on my mortal skins again!

Thursday, June 9, 2011

The thing people call "Love"

“Love is a leader. In order to be love’s follower, you have to be chosen by love,” says Khalil Gibran.
On glancing around me, I see a lot of people who claim to be in love and the emotion has become so overrated that anything and everything between two people is named love these days. If the so called thing that happens between two people is love, then why is it that relationships don’t last or that marriages which claim to be built upon foundations of love fall down miserably?
Even though there may be exceptions, according to my observations and acumen so far, an average(most commonly seen kind of) romantic relationship in today’s scene can be described as follows:
• When two people meet (even though the scene in the contemporary world includes homosexuals, here my reference is only to the heterosexual pairs) and they think they are curious about each other, then there is a misbelief that it is love.
• The next thing is that they get into a romantic relationship and then of course there is the usual night talks on the phone, the 24 hours non-stop text messages, make out sessions which are much looked forward to and then the final culmination- sex.
• After the sex, things change in most relationships, the pair starts to feel bored, the talks get monotonous, and as days go by there is nothing much that excites the both of them in each other.
• When the relation reaches this stage of depression, either of them decides to dump the other or they decide to part gracefully.
• If not that, they have a huge fight and they break up. Later on, the guy goes around describing the girl and her assets or the girl goes around lecturing about why guys should not be trusted.
Now, if we analyse this hypothesis, we see that all that the both of them needed was sex. If that was the case, why didn’t they just sleep together in the first stage itself and part?
When it comes to love, our society seems to be a complicated and disoriented lot. The underlying fact is that every individual wants to be on his own and wishes to think for himself. When a relationship happens, people do not look beyond the possibilities of the physicality between the two of them. Any individual cannot survive with someone to whom he cannot connect on the intellectual level. Be it a mediocre person or a snob or an intellectual one- every individual wants to talk out his mind to his partner and be able to coincide on some level with each other’s line of thoughts. Human beings are not sex machines who can be content with sessions of love making alone. Its only when work, brain activity, love and sex come together that a person feels revitalised. Sex alone will not sustain any individual or relationship.
Love becomes an experience only when you get to discover the person each day and when you can be happy about his existence itself. Getting to know a new facet of someone each day and celebrating the existence of such a person will never bore anyone I guess. But to create that kind of a lasting bond, both the man and the woman need to be wise, well-read and of distinct individualities. Sadly tough, in our social scene, people think that knowledge and love are in no way connected.
The commitment phobia that the Indian men have is another thing that adds fuel to the breakage of relationships. Men in general seem scared of commitment and marriages. They can be in a live- in relationship with a woman for more than 10 years but cant marry her. If the relation can go on for a long time, why hesitate to give it a name? It could be that the stigma that lingers over divorce and marriages in the Indian minds is one reason why people do not wish to get into nuptial knots.
Sex is a physical need, but it has got nothing to do with love. If sex is needed, we should learn to get it and move on without creating dramatic instances by calling it love. Every individual is in search of love. But the irony is that everyone seems to be in love as well. Love is something that will never be found in its entirety (at least thats what I believe!). Love keeps hopes alive and hopes keep the world moving. But again, in most man woman relationships, there definitely is no love. So we should invent some new word that can be used to replace “love” in such cases. “Lust” could be a substitute but again people don’t like it when their true intentions are spilled out. We always want to glorify our motives and use strong words like “love” and “commitment” so that we look, sound and seem civilised(even though civilization has not even looked our way)!

Sunday, May 22, 2011

My Deep Dark Tomb

My Dark Hole,
You slimy middle one,
You have decided my life since birth,
Its you who has conditioned me,
My instincts are at your beck and call,
My schedules are altered to protect you,
My ambitions are structured considering your safety,
My relationships are based on your availability,
Its you that is noticed and not me,
And I am made to feel I am in you rather than you being in me,
I get a feeling of filth when I sense the secret gazes on you,
Sometimes I just want to stitch up your walls so that I can find peace,
When the garbage of realisation accumulates in my soul
I get angry and I hurt you,
I make you bleed,
When you bleed,you push me into a shithole of emotions for no reasons,
The world has still not been able to define you,
It rather defines me in relation to you,
And in that narrow definition my self is murdered heniously,
Neglected is my pride,my mirth, my existence.
I try to shut my ears and blind myself to escape the feeling of vulnerability,
But your presence in me will always make me porous.
I know I am coveted only because I have you,
But I wont let you be happy or feel good,
I wont let slitherers to slip into you,
Thats my revenge to the one who has placed you in me
Because my life is the price you make me pay for carrying you in me!

Friday, April 29, 2011

Finale of a long hide and seek!

Sat away from you
Because I wanted to touch you,
Avoided eye contact
Because your eyes ignited mine,
Walked opposite to you
Because I felt vulnerable,
Wrote verses about you
Because I never had the courage to tell you straight,
Kept quite about the sleepless nights
Because I wanted you to sleep peacefully,
Now that I have come a long way on my own,
I understand that the walk was beautiful
Because I thought you would follow me,
But when I look back at the crossroads now,
I see just me and the signboards
Which tell me that I have come the wrong way,
I should have chosen to follow you instead,
Now that I have chosen my own way,
I prefer walking till I reach the dead end.

Sunday, April 24, 2011

Blue Venom

Ink,
Your are my poision,
My pen sucks your blue out from my veins
Through its nibs you bleed onto my canvas,
Giving me a haemorrhage of thoughts,
Sometimes you blot,
Sometimes you smudge,
Sometimes you make an abrupt halt,
You are all over the torn off pages in my dustbin,
You are all over the surface of my diary,
You drip onto my white night dress,
You make my neat nails blue,
You flow away from me at times
But return to philander on my page,
Like the blue sea on the reef,
Drown me in your blue,
Bleed on me,
Drug me,
My nocturnal counterpart!

Friday, April 22, 2011

Pilgrimage of love

Take me to a pilgrimage of love,
Let me place myself at your feet,
Let me dip my soul in you serene waters,
Shower on me the smel of burning insence sticks,
Wrap me in holy saffron,
Make me walk around your sacred fire,
Behead me at the golden dawn and
Accept my bleeding love as my holy sacrifice,
Burn my body in your sandalwood pyre,
Press my ahses onto your forehead,
Inhale my smoke into your solemn self,
For I am entangled in your thread of divinity,
My diety,
My sigh of relief,
Grant me this one last wish,
Bless me with eternal bliss,
Take me to a pilgrimage of love!

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Familiarity

The secret meetings,
The hurried kisses,
The intense looks,
The long hugs,
Those increased heartbeats,
The beach evenings,
The restlesness within
That fueld my soul,
Everything is gone now that we are togather,
The love is gone,
The spark has died,
Blame it on whatever but now its too late,
Because as they say familiarity sure breeds contempt!

Saturday, April 16, 2011

Red

The red of the gulmohar is the red within u and me
While u are away to bring red i stand here,
Not knowing the changing seasons,
Ignorant of the moving time,
Passers by come and go,
They try to make my gulmohar bloom
But mine will blossom only in the warmth of ur red...
And here i wait... not knowing the change in seasons...
Bring me my red
Because the red around me is no longer red...

City Lights

The city lights have gone off,
Roads are deserted,
Stars have slept under the black silence,
I stand here, looking through my half open window,
Sleepless, restless.
My long loose white robe flies in the breeze,
It uncovers my hidden fear of solitude,
The hustle of the city has died down,
People are sleeping behind the comfort of their closed doors,
But I am here, staring at the nothingness,
Trying not to feel miserable without you,
Wondering where you might be now,
Are you even thinking of me?
I don’t know, but you are missed!

Shabby You

The morning rays wriggle through our white curtains,
I open my eyes to a sleeping you next to me,
And I stare at your serene face,
Its sharp nose,
The closed eyelids,
The pricky moustache,
The dimple cheeks,
The shabby hair in a mess over your forehead,
The neat border of your beautiful lips,
I see a sleeping child,
A mind at peace,
And I get up cautiously trying not to wake u up,
You open your eyes then and clasp my hands,
And I hide the love bubbling within me and say
'look at you,shabby creature!"
Ill never show,
But you are the best I can have!

Sunday, April 3, 2011

Urumi

The much awaited Santosh Sivan movie sadly fails to graduate into a classic from a mediocre take off. The film surely has some excellent shots and frames but most of the time it looks like an overdo.The actors seem to pose for a photograph in most of the scenes.The major flaw is that there is too much of edit and graphics used in the scenes.The artificial lights and sets seem too made up in most places.The most depressing thing is that the movie fails to transmit the agonies of Kelu Nair because the over beautified frames present a rosy picture of war.It looks like as though fighting a war is an easy task.Blame it on the art direction for having produced a plastic set instead of a raw, realistic terrain.
Besides all of this,what is positive is that the film makes a clear political statement.The major issue that emerges in the case of new generation books and movies is that they are apolitical. An apolitical society is inimical to the progress of civilization.This movie surpisingly makes a political assertion which looks like a somewhat anti- West stand. It says that we should stop worshipping the westerners at least now. There is a need to understand that India is even today being exploited by the west and we shudnt fall for their baits. It is the responsibility of each member of the new generation to take forward the dream of our valourous freedom fighters who wished to make an independant, dignified India. This is a thing we all need to adress and this commercial entertainer does make the audians think of it.
Therefore besides being a visual gimmick,Urumi is definetly distinct.

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Twilight

The night was calm,
I walked amidst the foliage in the bright moonlight,
My long curly tresses covered my naked breasts,
The white jasmine buds on my hair entangled into my frizzy curls as if in an inseparable union,
The soft forest wind made sketches on my pristine body,
I walked, engulfed in arousement,
The grassy path took me to a calm river bed.
I touched the water with the tip of my tongue,
It felt warm,
Warmer than my desire,
It was deep, mysterious, dense, just like my passion,
I drank a mouthful of the black water and lay wide-legged on the rough grass,
The coarse sand rubbed itself against my bare posterior,
I took a handful of the white sand and made a heap on my navel,
The water touched my toes as if calling me to make love to it,
I sat up and stared into my naked reflection in the moonlit water,
The water was dark, rough, yet warm,
It had treacherous pits within,
Strong undercurrents at places,
Just like my playful mate,
Aroused, I jumped into its depths and swam like a lost nomad,
The water licked my soft body,
Wet my thick curls,
Untied the knots in it and took away the jasmine buds,
I dipped myself into it and surrendered my resistance,
The droplets on my dark lips and the tip of my long nose rushed down into the hollow of my belly-button,
The blue-black water fondled my hips and entered into the holes of my unexplored femininity,
It ripped open the hymen of my pseudo morality and embraced my blushing soul,
It hit against my uncovered breasts in wild passion,
My soul experienced intoxicating orgasm for the first time,
I felt loved like never before,
The heat of my hurried lust boiled the currents around me,
I floated in the circular currents,
I lay looking at the full moon and the little jasmine buds moving in the water,
I swam again as if in search of myself in the backwaters of my own desire,
And in it I found me,
The woman within who craves for unending choreographies of love,
The woman who wants to slither into the unknown possibilities of love-making,
The woman who is in search of herself,
The unknown forest winds called out to me,
I swam out and walked back along the grassy path,
My body dripping wet with my sense of fulfilment,
The moonlight flashed onto my curves making me feel shy,
I sat down on the ground under a canopy of mango trees,
In the silver moonlight I examined the love bites on my navel,
Dark red scratches spread across my thighs,
My neck bore marks of intense kisses pressed onto it,
The night seemed poisonous and its venom oozed out of my slimy vagina onto my sleek legs,
It flowed down as if to drown me in it,
I lay amidst the mango grooves,
The venom of my passion still oozing onto the bare ground,
I lay wide-legged, my breasts pressing against the thick roots of the giant mango tree,
Rotten mango leaves fell on my bare back, on my meandering waistline,
The forest camouflaged me and I hid myself from the evil eyes of lustful vultures,
I wished to lie there, forever,
Ignorant of time and seasons
Like a female python waiting for her mate.

Thursday, March 10, 2011

Eastrogen

Pained i am to wake up to the news of raped bodies,
Torn i am to see what i see around me,
Violated femininity surrounds me,
This makes me blame the cursed moment in which my biology was decided,
I wish to make be myself,
I want to enjoy the night sky without the fear of being abducted,
I dream of spreading my wings into the arena of creative fulfillment,
I want to stand nude against the chilly winds on december mornings,
I long to sail like a lost raft in the currents of desire,
The women’s reservation bill will not solve my problems,
A ladies only bus is no solution for me,
No one knows,
I never show,
But that does not mean i dont have a thing to say,i have lots,
Lots of wishes,no demands,
Just listen to me,
Just throw me a smile,
Let me live for this world is equally mine as yours.

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Blasphemy

My incense sticks lay burning at your altar,
My Lord, save him, Please,
38 long years of matrimony has given me nothing but grief,
Life was a meaningless cycle from negligence to abusive sex to continuous pregnancies,
I longed for nothing more than a little bit of consideration,
But,nights became nightmares,
His bed became my prison,
And on it, I was shackled with his chains of never-ending passion,
Violated, I pushed myself through those nights in silent tears which no one saw,
Not even you My Lord,
He tied up my soul
I forgot how to write verses,
I forgot how to sing,how to decipher the language of the rains,
All I could do was clean stained bedsheets,deliver and lay down for him,
Every second I cursed my birth,my biology,my father’s empty bank account which made me my husband’s captive at 16,
I hated my fair skin which made him covet me,
I wished I was dark and ugly so that no man would have offered to marry me
I could have stayed at home and gone to school then,
Or at least could have slept with peace for a few more years,
My children grew up and flew away,
And I was still there, cleaning bed sheets and spreading new ones,
I lived just for him to push me around and walk over me,
Now, the thought of it all petrifies me,
My Lord,from where did the potion of endurance flow into me?
Married to a rich household and blessed with 7 children
People say I am lucky to be the Priest’s wife,
But no one ever recognised that the heaviness of my eyes was much more than that of my pregnant belly,
My husband,the revered Priest, was a parasite which nibbled on the Holy Bible,
Yet, Now, when he lies half-dead at the Church hospital,
I somehow cannot pray for his death,
My Lord, save him,
Give him painless days and sound nights,
My incense sticks lay burning at your altar,
Save him Lord,
I cannot ask for his death even after all that I have gone through
For you made me a woman,
A woman who can bow as low as the earth and harbour endless love within!

Friday, March 4, 2011

what are you to me?

What are you?
An actor who amazes the audian in me?
A philosopher whose intelligence petrifies me?
A child whose innocence triggers the maternity in me?
A man whose roughness arouses me?
Whatever you are, I do not want to define you,
I simply love you.... for you make me want to outgrow my shell and expand my horizons to reach the zenith of my long-cherished passions,
You make me want to love,
Your breath tells me that life is about being warm within,
Your clear green eyes push me to stand staring at the mystery of the seas,
Your soft recital of poetry intoxicates the woman within me,
You have inspired me to rebel against the hypocrisies of my mind,
You make me crave for knowledge,
Your thoughts make me want to search for completion,
You teach me to keep faith in the enormous white skies and soar my kites into its vastness,
You carve my inner self with your sharp chisel of burning intelligence,
And now, you have made a beautiful sculpture out of my raw conscience,
Yet, I wonder....what are you?
I learnt to love life through you,
I crossed the reef of ignorance and ascended the peak of eternal bliss through you,
I dreamt through your fiery eyes,
I made love to your exendric soul,
Even then I ask myself.....what are you to me?
Whatever you are to me, I do not wish to define you....because I simply love you...I do not know what love is because you never told me what it is,
You simply placed a soft kiss on my forehead whenever I asked you,
Even though I don’t know what it is,
My teacher,
My philosopher,
My companion,
My protector,
My mate,
My man,
.....I love you.

Sunday, February 20, 2011

You are my mirage

My ecstacy,
My fire,
Merge into my conscience
and dwell in my soul,
Erase my egos with your soft breath of love,
Let our souls philander in the mysterious depths of our admiration,
Let me fondle your neat,long fingers that draw lines of warm fulfillment on my breast,
Spread your ink on my canvas,let me evolve reading the verses you scribble on my frame,
Take me to the world of endless celebrations,
Teach me the art of selfless love,
Intoxicate my inner self with the bliss of your meditative love-making,
In the orgasmic pleasure of your closeness,let my femininity find paradise,
Compell me to stop existing a blob of meat in this ruthless world and push me to start living in the search for truth,
My never-found love, Put an end to my wait,
Come out of my imagination,transform into living flesh and blood..
Contain me,let my femininity find completion.

Sunday, January 2, 2011

the year is new.....but the prototype isnt...

While returning from the doctor’s clinic at about 7pm on the late evening of 31 Dec 2010, what I saw and experienced made me completely cynical of the Indian testosterone.
People on the streets were in a mood for celebration. Now when I say people, it is particularly emphasized that there were hardly any women to be seen. The men, (‘testosterone charged beings’ as I call them) were staring and ogling excessively at almost al the available, faint traces of femininity they could manage to find on the street.
This made me wonder from where these men get the idea that whenever there is a reason to celebrate; they can get drunk and charge upon any female who passes by.
According to my limited knowledge, nowhere it is said that on the New Year’s Eve, the streets are reserved for men. Then why is it that we find absolutely no woman out on the streets of the metro?
Does this mean that even in public, amidst the presence and protection of her family, a woman is vulnerable? If the answer to the last question is in the affirmative, then why the bloody hell is this country called a democracy? Is India then, a country of the educated but uncivilized?
Shame on you, me and every other citizen of this country for turning a blind eye to this kind of bastardize!

Another question that needs an answer from this society is- “what is a woman?”
A womb? A body? A vaginal opening?
All agree in recognizing the fact that females exist in the human species. Today, as always, they make up about one half of humanity. And yet we are told that femininity is in danger. If today femininity no longer exists, then it never existed. But does the word “woman” then have no specific content?

This is not a note on feminism because the subject is irritating and enough ink has already been spilled quarrelling over feminism. I wrap up by borrowing a few lines from “Modern Woman: The Lost Sex” by Dorothy Parker, (which in other respects has its irritating features), ‘......my idea is that all of us, men as well as women should be regarded as human beings.....:

Happy 2011!