You’re a kid when you ask what’s an ‘issue’,
it is something you look forward to,
primarily an extra story,
to your recent favourite.
Gradually, the meaning deepens,
and darkens.
Much like innocence, maybe.
You live life,
to an extent that you forget about the ‘issue’ you were told.
While gradually developing some of your own.
And that is when it hits,
you’ve grown up.
To the aunties,
in sari’s and dupattas and ghagra choli’s,
My mom tells me not to make enemies,
so i wish to come,
out, in terms with you.
Therefore, i ask,
Should i apologize?
to you for speaking my mind,
for asking questions,
about sex, gender, identity and equality?
to you for going to a different city,
for a college life, a job and a vacation.
to you for wanting the world in my grip,
to you for wearing western,
Because, being an Indian girl,
how can i dare to wear anything but a suit?
who will marry me, is your tension afterall.
Sure, you deserve an apology,
for i cannot make roti’s as round,
as i am bound,
i do make eye contact.
and express my opinion,
because of which,
you embarrass me in public,
and kill me from within.
So i let it go,
after all, they say you’re wise.
So,
I wear a red lipstick,
while dancing to the tunes ‘i shouldn’t’.
by which you question my character,
and discuss it with my mother.
You read the daily bulletin,
and bring it to life,
by body shaming me,
and telling me why i should quit my job.
It is a sorry affair,
because i have asked too many questions,
at one go, already.
Artwork by Kitty Taniguchi
In the middle of nowhere,In the abode of dreams,
A divine bird sang a song never heard before,
Of peace, of love, of joy, of mirth.
She sang away day and night,
With sharp trills and lots of thrills,
Her song was a balm for the agonized souls,
Her song was one of the few pleasures for the downtrodden.
Her tune enveloped the world in a thin shroud of enchanted beauty,
Her melody relieved the world of its misery.
To the other feathered beings she was a mystery,
One they looked up to with unbridled respect.
She was worshipped by her brethren,
She was a queen to them.
A queen who ruled her subjects with love and honour and eternal care,
A queen as holy as the gods.
One fateful day, a human walked into the forest,
With bows and arrows and handful of stones,
With a single skilled shot, he brought down the queen,
Filling the sky with the cries of creatures unseen.
Since then, every morning the winged-creatures screamed in hellish rage,
Reminded of the loss of their goddess at the sight of men of every age,
Screech of the glory of their queen unheard,
But sadly, we do not speak bird.
Result of not paying heed during accounts classes,well at least I come up with something , if not the accurate matching of balance sheets –
He tried to catch me,
But failed at his attempt.
A tiny speck indeed he was,
Yet he looked at me, with eyes filled with tempt.
I got away as fast as speed would permit me,
Much to his distress.
No matter how farther I moved,
His pupils on me, were still glued.
He tried to catch me,
But failed at his attempt.
With his eyes personifying rage,
He looked at me with contempt.
I tried to escape through a way,
Just to save my day.
He took a leap, tripped on his foot.
But my caged heart felt a thud,
When he still dint give up.
He tried to catch me,
But failed at his attempt.
Trying to rob me of all that I had.
Moving his hands, grasping too swift,
With everything that came his way,
Along the way,
He would shoot at me,
But smashed his own nose when I managed to flee.
He tried to catch me,
But failed at his attempt,
I kept myself safe,
Much to his disgrace.
But alas! For the poor soul,
Whose sleep I had disturbed,
Had thus surrendered,
Before me, The fly.
So vibrant and slender,
I had given him a day,
he would always remember!
haywiredthoughtsandstrokes 