Stress: A Woman's Tale

Yesterday in the street while coming back in the afternoon, 

I heard a man howl,

I turned around in fear only to see a lone dog crouched over the dried earth. 

The panic I had felt rise in my throat subsided for a second, 

Only to return as the innate worry of whether the pepper spray was in my satchel. 

My sister's friend once told me of an incident from her workplace, 

To many it seems like a lie, I'll let you decide for yourself, 

She said, "My boss asked me to meet him before I left, 

I thought that in the ongoing appraisal season, 

Maybe this time I'd also be in luck. 

At half past five when I entered his office, 

The peon sitting outside gave me a sympathetic look.

At half past six when I wobbled out from inside,

I understood what his eyes had said."

At five, my father would braid my hair, 

Take me to school on his shoulders with me laughing in the air. 

In the afternoons, luring me with sweet spun tales, 

The neighbour would take me in his arms to play in his backyard inaccessible to others.

At thirteen, I first got to know that I am a woman,

Different from a man in much too many ways to one to properly remember.

At thirteen, when I read the newspaper for the first time, 

I got to know of a bride burned alive for money.

I wondered what happened to her henna filled hands,

To the promises her husband made to her. 

At sixteen while waiting alone at a bus stop, 

Three men tripling on a motorbike eve teased me and wouldn't relent. 

In the moments that followed, a rush of blood went up to my head, 

I could feel the adrenaline pumping in my veins but my feet seemed to be rooted and stuck. 

I wondered how far I would be able to make it, even if I dropped my heavy satchel midway, 

Before the men on the motorcycle got to me and seized me in their clutch? 

For days to come and on various such occasions, I've imagined the worst.

I've shut the door to my room and to my overly sensitive and raw senses. 

For weeks on end after such an episode, 

I step out of my home with hesitant steps, 

I take in the sight of my home slowly,

Savouring it like it is my last breath. 

I cover myself lest someone blames me, 

Calls me a provocative and promiscuous temptress.

I walk with my head bowed and in my hand I hold a bottle of a venom-

 I hope with all my might I never have to use in my entire existence.

At eighteen, I met a woman, 

 Or so I thought of her at first, 

Carrying an infant on her chest

Another one trailing right behind her in the dirt. 

Her father told me the next minute how she'd become a mother at 12,

I looked at the woman standing before me gazing at something beyond my touch.

At nineteen, I heard an "educated" man tell me about what my life should encompass

And how subservience and submission are a woman's most prized jewellery.

I think I've become a ghost of someone I could be, 

But haven't millions of other women too?

Have I succumbed to my predestined fate too easily?

Or am I suspended in a living nightmare?

I want to know why should we suffer!

What wrong have any of us done?

Where exactly does this fear laden existence lead us? 

I don't think anyone of us reckons.

You are a woman, it's your responsibility, they say; 

Everyone comes before you, every time, everyday.

At twenty five, I hope 

I'll be hearing more people say, 

That a woman is a human too, 

Not anyone's personal slave. 

That a woman is a woman,

Not a Blackbird trapped in a cage.

Dream

I once saw a beautiful dream-

A stranger passing  in an insipid street.

Off they went from shop to shop,

Collecting a smile at every stop.

And then they'd grin with such a sparkle,

They'd smash walls that had existed there forever.

Such light they brought along in that chocked mess,

So much pure air to feel once again.

With a sweet giggle and light steps,

Life started to live again.

Alas! off they sauntered into the horizon, to far away lands,

With their hair flapping in the air behind them.

When someone asks me about the City of Doom,

I only recall Her nose ring, pancakes and that Tuesday with Her.

Abyss 

Go all the way this one time!

Don't worry, the rain'll wash away the grime.

There isn't much you can't conquer;

It'll take some time maybe,

But patience and pain giveth gains.

Run around in circles if you like;

Pedal away in the howling wind!

Cry if you want to in the sunny days;

And laugh if you want to, when it rains!

There isn't much you can't conquer;

You are your own beginning, don't search for an ending.

Be an abyss, a dark one if you desire;

Be an ocean, deep and blue, with stories unheard-

And submerged in your ire.

There isn't much you can't conquer!

The world isn't bigger than your dreams.

You don't have to be someone else,

You don't have to back out of any quest;

You don't have to be perfect,

You need to be You!

There isn't anything you can't conquer-

You're inviolable, you're a fighter;

There isn't anything you can't conquer,

You're already a victor;

The Universe is within you.

Persuasion

If at first you do not succeed,

Try once again;

If you feel too much at once,

Let go of the chains.

If somewhere you find yourself alone,

Remember you have yourself to hold on to;

Sometimes the best in the World,

Lies within ourselves! 

Someday if you feel you are not enough,

Close your eyes and let yourself loose;

Let yourself flow 'til you soar in the sky,

'til you accept that you are you, awing and full of life.

A lot may stand between your dreams and you,

Leave aside everyone, 

But promise yourself you'll pursue what you want,

You'll chase your dreams 'til you've won!

You'll not let go of your goals.

Remember one more thing every moment that comes and goes by-

Don't search for yourself in someone else's eyes,

You are seamless, not something to hide.

MEANING

I stand alone in the empty room,

And think about all that's been.

I remember how it was,

How you made it, how we had been.

I stare at the blank ceiling,

And recollect all those days,

Blurred today by the abandoning haze.

I touch all those cracks and find all those crevices-

Through which your presence filtered in-

The light of hope and promise.

I listen to our laughter,

Mingled and so carefree,

And feel the present, whacking the breath out of me.

How I've suffocated and felt burdened since then,

Yes, I've cried at nights,

And relished in the pain.

How I've wished to know-

What wrong I did,

Yes, I've wiped my burning eyes with blurry handkerchiefs.

I don't know if I'm going to know myself anew,

But maybe this is what carrying my baggage meant to you. 

THE PAUCITY OF INFINITY

Yes, listening to the cuckoo's song,

And dancing wildly in the rain

Has made me an imbecile-

In every onlooker's eyes.

Yes, jumping fervently,

And laughing overtly,

Has me being called absurd-

Loblolly and ludicrous.

But what is about the gold,

Bestowed only to marigolds?

About the exquisiteness,

Limited to roses alone?

And about the sensuality,

Gifted only to the dusk and dawn?

That when in their presence I dwell-

To me, everything seems to come to a standstill.

MY RECURRENT COMRADE

Hello darkness,

My old friend.

See, we meet again

Despite my resistance.

See, I am engaged again

In a relation with you

And have been called-

Promiscuous by many not a few.

See, you have enraptured me-

Proved me to be a misanthrope,

Our camaraderie is such-

To people-intrinsic;

Albeit for me persnickety.

No one knows of your true ascendancy over our lives.

Although I am derogating you 

But your abilities I truly know;

I know that despite you being contemptuous,

You have always desired for me-

To live like a bon vivant 

Whist assimilating that-

Sophistry is the light's love,

You have proclivity just for-

Sovereignty, my love.