Category Archives: Humanity

Her Inner Conflict

Note: Early morning when I went to buy milk, I saw little girls all around going around from one house to another. It wasn’t too late for me to realise what day it was. Just then I saw a small girl sitting in a stairway with a 10Rs note in her palms and her sitting in a wondering pose with both of her fists on her chin. That made me think of the alternate but true reality of our lifestyle and mentality of many people in our country. Here’s a piece from a little girl’s point of view.  

Where is your youngest one?
Isn’t she at home?
Can you please ask her to come to our house,
For the ritual around noon?

Oh yeah sure, here she is,
Taking bath and getting dressed!
Just a little crimson on her forehead,
And you can take her to your shed!

“Well isn’t she the most wanted by all today!”
Quoted one of the aunts.
“Well she’s the youngest Lakshmi you see”
A lady said along with her holy chants.

While all this was taking place around her,
The girl just sat and thought for long-
Weren’t these the same people,
Who wished I was never born?

Who came to my house,
Put the hand on my mothers womb,
“Don’t worry, It’ll be a son this time,
Finally happy will be your groom.”

Yes these are the same people,
Who suggested to get my identity checked,
Who told million ways,
To not allow me to take even a breath.

Not being able to bear such thoughts,
She ran out with crumbs of sweets in her palm,
Threw them into the bushes,
Went straight to her mother’s arms.

Her mother could understand her feelings,
Without her saying even a word,
Coz she was the only woman,
Who being a woman understood her worth.

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Pic credits- Image

Learn to be a human first

Originally asked and answered in Quora!


You see this guy? I am talking about the cute pup in my hand here. He is one of the newly born puppy inside my college premises…well about 3 months old now. So he had a sibling too… a female one. I usually used to bring them chapatis everyday, for both of them and well sometimes they didn’t eat it but sometimes they were so hungry that they used to ask for more. This is me holding Oreo, yeah I named him that. And I named his sis as Brownie. So that’s the three month old case.
I got bit busy with my exams, not college ones but of some other thing so didn’t come to college for quite a lot of days. After a whole month when I got back to college after giving my exam, I saw Oreo sitting beside a bunch of students sitting outside the canteen and eating something. He was lying down and just waiting for them to leave something at the end. I went close to him. And as I approached he tried to get away. I was surprised. But I saw he was waving his tail in excitement too. It didn’t take me time to realise that though he knew me and who I was, but still he was scared, maybe just coz I was a human. I don’t know how everyone else treats him, but it changed his mind about every other human, right? I gave him a pack of Parle-G biscuit and that’s how he finally came to me. I played with him, just for few moments coz I had a class to attend. But that moment was something I realised what being a human was and what being a real human was. When I left he tried to tag along for a while, but after sometime was shooed by one of the janitor, well I won’t comment on that, coz that’s his job.

I went inside the canteen, and asked for an Appy and also enquired, hey Anna what happened to the other puppy? Where’s the other one, these two were always together na?

He told me that Brownie died few weeks back. They found her dead behind a tree inside the campus. She died coz of starvation. I just then went out to see Oreo again, I don’t know why but now looking at him made me more sad. And what was he doing? Trying to survive by waiting for the food to be left by someone. So this thing makes you think what being a human really is and what is on stake when we just stop caring for versions things around you. Whatever the experience it was, maybe good in a way that how a bond was kept…like Oreo kept with me and also the sad one, which I don’t think I need to explain much I believe.

The Secret of Happiness

(Note- This is a sonnet with abab cdcd efe ghg pattern.)

Do you ever feel like everything’s wrong,
And you’re the only one this is happening to,
Happiness seems far-fetched & you’re covered with gloomy songs,
And you feel like the world is so unfair to you.
But you forget that you’re treating your life as a coin,
Seeing one side and not knowing there’s another,
Being shy and not taking any risk seems fine,
Atleast toss it over and see what’s on the other.
Rejoice the lovely life you have & be happy with what you got,
You get this life for once my dear,
No time to feel sad for what you’ve not.
Feel the mirth in getting a loaf of bread to eat,
Not everyone gets what you have,
And when you’ve plentiful give some to the one who needs.

Life without colours- Ode to the nature

Came here after a long time,
Finally got free from mine self built cage of sustainability,
How could I let me be fooled and get trapped?
Trapped around those ghastly towers of concrete!

Was I in too much doubt about my own creator?
That I questioned my own old ways of survival.
And leaving behind the calm and serene abode,
I surrendered myself to be imprisoned in the dungeon

Anyways I have come back now,
To my very own origin.
The place from where I commenced,
My voyage that would lead me to my own doom.

I am sure she would take me back with a smile
Heart of a mother is always ready to forgive
So chaste and pure
Like a divine and heavenly soul

But what do I see here!
What happened to my Mother Nature?
What did you do to her my siblings?
Why is she so gloomy and withered?

Why is that grass so pale which used to be so green?
This place looks like a desert as if greenery has never been.
And what happened to the sky which used to be so blue?
Now looking at me face down as if he’s ashamed of losing his hue.

Where’s that gusty breeze?
The warm breath of my Mother,
Where’s that ravishing rivulet in the woods?
Which used to flow through her bosom to feed me.

What have you done to her fledglings,
The wonderful oaks, pines and spruce.
Why like a unruly tyrant my sibs,
You cut off their head for some wright’s use.

Where are those red roses that used to shine so bright,
Like a princess drying her locks in the deck at sunlight.
What happened to the daisies and the tulips too,
Who once filled our gardens and now left so few!

Where are all the moths and the mighty monarch,
Those unanimous kings of wings…in air who used to march.
And where are all those sparrows and the miry magpies,
In our veranda all day who used to roam and lie.

No doubt my brothers you can always boast,
That how you turned a divine hamlet into a town of ghosts,
That for the path of development that we laid,
Slaughtering our own nest was the price that we paid.

What will you tell to the ones who are yet to take birth,
That places so bright in old pictures now seem to be in dearth.
What will you say when they’ll ask- What have you done?
Where’s the fiery ball of fire that you used to call as Sun?

Smog will be covering whole sky even at noon,
Though it won’t be dark, but you would still see a moon.
Would you be able to point their little finger so light,
At the moonlike sun which will appear to be white.

Colours are not just crayons used to show a child’s imagination,
They depict the life around us, things we see through our vision.
Meddling with nature’s ways has never gone great,
Life without colours, is like palm with no line of fate.

Let’s bring an end to this devastation we have done,
Bring back those mystique tints to our mother, and be a good son.
We have done enough for ourselves and now it’s time that we commence,
Take a true step forward to enrich lives of our descendants, not just pretend.

___________________________________________

(So that was today’s assignment… Hope I did justice. The Commons)

Robin- the man who never showed his flaws

(As per the assignment, today’s poetry form is Limerick and my poem today is about our beloved Hollywood veteran- Mr. Robin Williams… This is my tribute to him and his shocking demise.)

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As Keating he inspired us, to be a poet of your own,
Let the world know what you got and don’t be unknown.
He taught us that don’t just be a follower, make your own path,
Live your life by your own means, at least till it lasts.

And how can I forget that amazing board game,
Though now in my twenties I find it quite lame,
But back in my childhood,
I used to find it so good,
That see, I still remember its name.

And who can forget the lovely Mrs. Doubtfire,
Our beloved nanny, ready to be hired,
As a man who failed in duty,
But taught us that love is the real beauty,
And attributes like her, we all desired.

And for us his quote for being perfect was like a reward,
For which he recieved the prestigious award,
There’s so much to learn,
And more from him we desire and yearn,
But he thought it’s better to be with the Lord.

We don’t know why he ended such an inspiring life,
After spreading so much happiness and laughter in rife,
It tells us that the one we thought was man of love and affection,
Was infact gloomy, sad and full of imperfections.

_______________________________________

So back to you The Commons, hope I did some good.

And these are some iconic images from his iconic roles.

Robin Williams in Dead Poet Society as John Keating

As Alan Parrish in Jumanji


As Mrs.Doubtfire 



As Sean Maguire in Good Will Hunting for which he won an Oscar

An End To The Pain

Note- This a new and not a usual form of poetry- Prose poetry. I was getting a lot of questions regarding the style it is written in, so I felt to explain it.

(A lot of the references I am gonna use today might be too weird and new to most of the people around, maybe because they’re quite common in India and no where else. So feel free to ask if you feel like.
And also, this is written from a woman’s perspective, so read it that way.
)

A lot has changed with time, but that’s how it was meant to be I think, the way we talk, walk, our clocks, the way girls used to wear frocks and how even kids nowadays carry a Glock, what a shock. But somethings never change, or we don’t want them or let them change- the food we eat, the way we sleep, we still bargaining to get what’s cheap, how a farmer’s crop is reaped and the well known, the way we weep…yes the way we weep, the way everyone else does and the way I do too. I don’t want to, but what can I do when I feel the pain, from those strokes of hands and lashes on my skin that are lain. I can’t bear it anymore, why can’t he see that it hurts me. Do I deserve to get such beating for small mistakes I do? Is that was a born for…to bear someone else’s frustration?

The day I was given away, I was told what a great person I am gonna be with. I was told how to impress my man, to do whatever I possibly can. What to do, what I shouldn’t and try to learn what I couldn’t. How as a woman I can explore what I got and in how many ways I can impress my man I was taught. And that’s what my life is about now I felt when on the wedding night they formed beautiful patterns of Henna on my pelt. I was so happy and little excited too; it was my first time with a man and that he also knew. I was sitting that night in the bed, waiting for him to come, but he was downstairs with his friends, sipping in his rum. At twelve midnight, he entered the room. I woke up, I didn’t know when I fell asleep. And seeing that I had slept, his drunk brain made him upset. He raised his hand and stroke me hard on my face, said how could I sleep before him, that I was a disgrace. He didn’t stop, he didn’t just stop there, like a wolf he approached me and I was in despair. I never wanted to become a woman at once and he didn’t ask for my permission as such. He defiled my chastity, against my will and all I could do was to weep and be still.

He did it quite often, he couldn’t feel that I was in pain, I wondered how can a person be so insane. But after a while it was it, I couldn’t bear it anymore, I thought to leave him, but I knew he was gonna do it with others too and thus to end this once and for all I swore. I was on my bed like everyday, he came and starting to take my clothes away. I pulled up the gun on his face which he used to keep in his drawer and waited for a while, to see his scared and pale face for a moment and then I fired without a recoil. I ended his heinous crusade, the treachery and pain he used to give, and that day onwards, I knew in peace I could live.

  
Three years have passed that day and four more to go before I get free from these bars, maybe then finally I’ll be free from people asking me about my scars. I couldn’t carry on my life for long, as I had decided to end mine as well after I did his. But something kept me going, kept me alive and gave me a reason to carry on and revive- the little angel that monster gave me has given me a new meaning to live and survive.

  

(This is my assignment for Day 3- Skin, Prose Poetry and Internal Rhyme. I hope you all find it nice- The Commons)

Fear

This poem is written with perspective of Dawood Ibrahim, a fortunate 15 year old to escape the Peshawar massacre. His alarm clock didn’t go off so he overslept and missed school. Every single member of his class was killed in the atrocity.

I am scared,
Scared to go inside through those doors again,
Scared to be alone without any mate to be with,
Coz they all left me to take their classes in heaven.

Should I be sad and jealous about this,
That I can’t be with them anymore,
Or rather be pleased to be here at the ground,
Safe and protected under my mother’s warm shroud.

You have your own shroud now…just yesterday I saw you all having one,
But what warmth will it be giving to your cold cadavers?
I can’t even act like being envious and asking same for me,
Though I am so distressed that I wish I had one too.

Sometimes I think am I really safe now?
Was that their last vengeance upon us?
Can I go out and play again?
With my new imaginary pals.

I can’t even shed tears anymore for you all,
Coz I am all dried up by now,
The porch of my eyely abode,
Is now just a frozen lake of tears.

I am not even that big yet,
To understand the gravity of this situation,
But I try to comprehend about it,
From the profuse denials of my mother to let me go out again.

Though I see my father standing tall as always,
Showing his obvious machismo that he is supposed to,
But through his grimly eyes I can feel,
The terrifying thought of losing me.

This fear has shaken everyone around,
Even the thought of it happening again gives me jitters,
But rather than perishing every day here like this,
More willing I’ll be to receive their bullet in my skull

Why on name of devout practices like Jihad,
Some of us even forget what humanity was like,
And every now and then carry out the extermination,
Of our own kind, the innocent and wise

Bring an end to this charade… I beg you all,
Enough with your ways of terrorizing our souls,
We aren’t scared of you or your carnage,
We are just afraid to lose our loved ones at such a young age.

Show some mercy upon our souls,
Just think for a moment, think on your own,
That why would the almighty be so willing to accept,
Those now deceased spirits whom he himself gave life to rest

Though someday you all will realize this fact,
And then repent for all your vindictive acts.
But what should I do…with nothing around,
With all my mates buried under ground.

With whom will I share my pain and joys,
To whom would I disclose all the changes I go through being a boy.
I am scared …but not scared of death alone,
What I am really scared of… is to be forever desolate and forlorn.