Vodka Mixed with Emotions

I was in my own room but lying on the 5-year-old mattress, it was the oldest we owned.  Positioned like I was to fall and searched for thoughts. My brain usually runs at this time of the night, desiring for sleep. But today, today was different, I skimmed through my mind with no near hope for sleep. My leg hurt, so I kicked it with the other and stared at it from the corner of my eye. Just as I did so, my vision was a blur, it slowed down and by the time, every image I saw was like a vintage animation stuck between changing its scenes. I felt trapped between a desire to faint and a hope for life.

Just a little secluded was what I felt from my own life, and that feeling mixed with many others groped my mind, my heart, and soul. It was alcohol to my burning body, and in no time, I got high on emotions I never felt. I tried to get on my feet but the numbness in my skin rose up on to a level where I’d rather have broken bones than handling the weight of my feelings combined with the tears stored in my body. I was apprehensive, sweats broke from parts of me, burning sensations rushed through my eyes. I tried to call for help but my lips puckered shut themselves, and all that came out was nothing more than a soft squeal.

Later, I heard the smoothest footsteps hastening into my room while I was lamenting under my covers. Entered without my consent, naively, unknown of my presence. It was dark and all I could establish about the other body in the room was a 3 footed little girl with the longest, straight hair. It was my minor fellow. She heard me weep but didn’t utter a word, came close and embraced me tight, found me from under there and kissed on my forehead. Slowly tucked my curls behind my ear and whispered, “It’s all okay” and within seconds, she walked away.

Those three words somehow meant the world to me. My eyes felt weary again, my lips smiled, and my ears could only hear joy. Sometimes the most unexpected people can make such a difference for that your heart wishes to beat again. Although I was still high, I was landing safely from a dangerous flight. That was all enough for me to keep myself jubilant.

 

‘ANI’-Mal vs. ‘WOO’-Men

Would you like to shut her mouth again?

Fill her mind with critical opinions of the society?

Well, you’d hate it, to be informed, and although it’s not my job to tell you so, but he has already clutched upon her soul and shot it on its core, so let her live with what she is left with.

Adding a hashtag to every post of yours or showing pity for whom you saw in the media the other day would never make a difference. Doesn’t matter even if every being on this planet has the knowledge of a tragedy, it won’t be of immense importance until an action is taken. By that I don’t mean to start a candle march, for her or anything related to for the God to provide her strength during the sufferance or as said in Hindi ” bhagwan usse yeh sehne ki shakti de ” because why to even allow such situations to make her to suffer in the first place?. Why not make her feel immune and impervious just like she felt in her mother’s womb? So, I say that “bhagwan har nari ko itni shakti de ki woh khud ko aisa hone na de”, that God, give every woman such immense strength for that, she won’t let that happen to her.

The world needs to get a larger perspective in life. The irony of the time of the present and has always been that ‘us’ people always focus on fictions like ‘Padmaavati’ or ‘Sita ji’ (as far as mythology goes, to my knowledge) and similar so many stories and feel sorry for the state of the lady during those times, rather than focus and provide attention to the fact that the (ani-mal) in the men is still alive and kicking since the past till now with no near end for this to be stopped anywhere in the world. It has all led to the time of the world where a girl is being raped every 7 seconds and the situation keeps getting worse. The most disgusting and the biggest conundrum that has ever existed according to the infamous rapists of the world, is that SHE WANTED IT. How does he determine that, is my question?

Did she verbally ask him to rape her,

because that’s consent,

and rape usually defines the opposite?.

The thing with the society is, men CAN be ANI-mal (oh, I meant men), women MUST  ‘woo’-men (oh I meant MUST behave like a woman), and if that girl for once tries to do what her heart wants, she now officially DESERVES to be raped.

A cruel punishment is for cruel deeds.

Then the ANI-mal deserves it and not the ‘WOO’-man.

SO, WHENEVER HE EVEN DARES TO DARE AGAIN,

let the women be empowered enough to decide his fate!

Give your suggestions, since every lady is waiting to hear from the real-men on how to kill the ‘ani’ in the men…

 

Dear Father

Why do you always doubt me? Why is that I can’t be trusted upon? It is not that I have had betrayed you, or for that fact, anyone. I am not asking you this because you and I are blood related, I ask this because you brought me up, you sowed my seeds and provided me water. Then why? Why can’t you, at least for once trust upon the education you gave me? Your agreement for me means enough and a gesture of appreciation may just change my world.

I am a human, and for that I must contain my own flaws, something you never understood, which you must. I try my best to be a perfect and desirable daughter, one who stands up on her own. Once I stand for myself right before your eyes and against you, you undermine me. Yes, I have learnt from you and you do have more experience, but fresh brains find new ideas. Please understand that there is a difference between spoon-feeding and loving. At least for once, understand me my dear father. You know I love you.

These lines may connect to many readers out there, and once were the voices of my heart and brain too. But a father is not one who easily presents a connection, but he does in his personal manner, it is just his way of life and a path of conveying his emotions. He is one who gives you a change of perspective in life; he is one who helps you build paths; he is one who is there by never being.

For my father. Thank you for everything.

Survival

 

Should I smile a little wider? Squint my eyes? Fake a laugh? Your heart must not always feel the same way as you appear, the mind does not always need to speak its thoughts. Our hearts want to keep our feelings to ourselves, the mind with its thoughts to self. If my heart screams of pain and calls for love, the mind aches and is weary of thought. It is always in the same pitch, does not matter how much it screeches and pulls your strings from the back of your head. So, shout and drain your pain, drain your thoughts and drain your feelings, let it flood down the sink. Give them a voice, a sound breaking the silence of minds, a sound with vibrations. When it comes to problems, pretend as they are tangled earphones, untangle and place them, because once you plug them in, it will be music to your ears.

Live in the moment and don’t let the distractions dare to deflect. Drown your demons before they learn how to swim. Befriend your enemy and make peace. As battles only cause death, winning is just a part of it and is something you’ll never be sure of, because there will be more wars with finer weapons. Find an idol, a leader for whose path you could follow, as you would never know which way to go without a map to life and when you figure your way out, create a new road and mark your milestones.

Create your destiny and make its worth for that everyone wishes it to be theirs.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Isolated Street

The quiet and isolated street, was lit by tall, iron, yellow street lamps and the faint moonlight. The sky felt weary and crowded with dark clouds, but enough for the moon to show its presence. The twinkling stars shone as bright as fire lamps, providing light to the empty spaces. It felt as if the sky had a story to tell or a secret to keep. The stores were shut from long before, but a feeling of freedom was spread in the street. An intuition of carefreeness and secureness could have been sensed. With my shadow right beside me, I felt impervious and safe.

I could hear the girl next door practicing the flute, and oh, the melody of the music! It sunk me into its flow, as the tune of the music clutched me into its rhythm. I heard a car impatiently honking, but at who? My hair flew like birds in the sky, as I turned around to have glance at the situation. It was me, unknowingly, floating in my own world. The music stopped as I guiltily apologized and cleared the way out for the car. My ears felt sorrow, just as I heard the owl hooting and the breeze touched my face and waved bye. The time passed by and I could smell the fragrance of blooming flowers and rain.

It was near to sunrise, as I felt the warmth in the weather. My journey had no path as I took rounds of the same street over and over again. I didn’t know what I was searching for, but maybe that’s how life is…

“Continuing on the path of life with no final destination. Maybe because it was never about the destination, it is about the journey and our path.”