Wednesday 6 August 2014

War On Children

painted deep red
eyes locked in the future
I barely lived

Juztamom
Image credit here


Dear Sis



-
Dear Sis,

I picked a pen to write something to you
I opened my notebook to say something to you
But I failed miserably
How do I talk sense?
How do I be sensible?
When it comes to you

I am the silly,
You are the grounded
I am the hyper
You are the ground
You are my child,
You are my mom
I am the tide
You are my calm
I have wings
And you taught me how to fly

wouldn't have lived
As much as I do
If it was not for you
wouldn't have loved
As much as I do
If it was not for you

wouldn't have survived
wouldn't have thrived
If it was not for you

I am what I am
Because you are what you are

I don’t know how to write a letter to you
I don’t know how to tell anything to you
Because you always know
I don’t have to write
I don’t have to say

 




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I am participating in the 30 Days Letter Challenge where you write one letter each day. The 4th in the list is a letter to ‘Your siblings’

Tuesday 5 August 2014

Dear Ma

Dear Ma,

I am writing this letter to you, to tell you that I am free, finally. It took me decades to reach here but I did.

Just to clarify, I have no complaints (big) from you as a mother. You did your best; you had limited resources, no support and I understand that. You literally raised us single handily. But growing up I do not remember a time when I was not aware of your physical limitations. Initial few years of my life, I detested the handicap. I wanted my life to be normal like others but it wasn't. I don’t know when I started owning the handicap. I don’t remember when your physical limitation became my mental block and I started living in my limited world. I never thought I had a life. Your life was my life and your story was my story. I decided to live your story and your pains. All my losses were a reflection of my failure as a daughter and all my victories were just stepping stones for a better life for you.

I don’t know when my life became an apology for your life.

Only thing I remember is not enjoying anything; always working ten times harder than anyone else around me. Only thing in my mind was to make your life better somehow. It may sound strange that a child was working hard for her parent’s future but that was my reality. A reality I never questioned.

I don’t think it was your fault. I don’t think you even realised what I was doing. I don’t think you wanted it like that but I was like that for years and you never did anything about it.

I still remember the day, when for the first time I enjoyed just being on my own and laughing out loud. And I also remember the wave of guilt that came over me in the next few seconds. I ran home and sat next you crying for hours, feeling like I have committed a crime. That incident made sure I remain in my shell for many more years to come.

It took me years to realise that it is okay to be just happy, for no reason, just because you don’t want to be unhappy. I still remember when it happened. It just happened. I was just too happy and my heart refused to be sad. The laughter started from somewhere deep in my gut. I could feel it rising and travelling through my veins, bursting through my pores, reaching my heart and finally releasing me from my prison of thoughts.

I never went back to my old self. It took me years but I gradually found my own path, which of course was inter connected with yours but it was not the same. It was my path. It was my story. It was my life.

It was liberating, to just live. I didn’t know life like this earlier. May be that’s why I live each and every second of my life now. I have so much to do, so many years to make up to, so many emotions still to feel and live. Every second matters. I laugh and cry like there is no tomorrow. I am free, just like you are. You will always have me. But I will not live your life.


I am me, no more an apology of you, just me and being me is great!

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I am participating in the 30 Days Letter Challenge where you write one letter each day. The 3rd in the list is a letter to ‘Your Parents’

Sunday 11 May 2014

Why?

She could feel the black, the cracks and the pores on her skin through which the smoke was coming out. She could smell the fire that was engulfing her whole being, inch by inch, part by part. She could hear the laughter coming from the other room; the laughs were filling her soul and were coming out as her muffled screams. She closed her eyes as her whole life ran in front of her, from her loving childhood, to her marriage, to her monstrous husband and in-laws and a tear fell through her eye, just one tear drop as she spoke her last words.
“Mom, why did you send me back?”

File:Bonfire Flames.JPG

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

image

Tuesday 29 April 2014

Being A Girl

Scared and in her own
Walking on the side
Walking with head down
Just walking on the road

Too shy to look up
Too nervous to share a glimpse
This is how she was brought up
To be proper and be prim
To look down
And not have a voice
To just walk on the road
Shown by others
Just walk in unknown of known

She always feared
Not someone else
But herself
Coz she was aware
Aware of her rising desires
Aware of her persistent thirst
Of knowledge
Of questions
Of reasons
Of whys?
Why was she treated like that?
She was born a girl,
So what?
Being a girl,
Was it that bad?

 Gloomy Girl by chaosbringer99

She knew it was only a matter of time
Her voice will find its way out
Her life will change forever
She may not be able to survive the tyranny
If she did
She may not be able to survive the irony
Of being finally free

So she was scared
For the future
Black or white
Dark or Bright,
Will come only
After a huge battle
A lone war

That she may not survive

(C) Juztamom

Shared with NaPoWriMo.

Image credit here

Some of the fellow participants:
http://jaibalarao.com/   - Jaibala