Have you dealt with your past?

“She is cracked, lost in her own dream land” I hear them say. I have never expected people to understand, they revel in gossip. I pretend not to listen and concentrate on the screen of my laptop.

Sometimes, I wish I can pluck out the sadness, which creeps like the cold through my warm blanket. Last night, I dreamt of the ghost, the questions seared in my blood, craving for retribution.

Once, my best friend asked “Why do her memories crush every bit of my will to live?”

I replied solemnly “You are yet to face your past, may be in time, you will learn to cope.”

He agreed signalling the end of our conversation.

Then, later as I lay awake, a doubt crept through my musings

“Have I dealt with my own?”

The Cry of the Delhi Rape Victim

I still remember mom when once you and dad asked me what I need to do in my life I replied you I will reduce the pain of other’s people and I became a physiotherapist so that I can try my level best to reduce the pain of others. But today I am not able to resist my own pain. Doctors are slashing my body parts for the fifth time like they were never the parts of my body…it is paining a lot mom I am not able to breathe properly and they attached me with oxygen cap please tell the doctors not to give me the anaesthesia mom I am scared I don’t want to close my eyes. If I close my eyes it takes me to that scary phase of my life where I was being cut into pieces I was just a bunch of flesh which was being continuously chopped by those animals. Those faces were very scary mom they were like those hungry animals who were biting at every parts of my body. I don’t have courage to look myself in the mirror. Mom please break all the mirrors nearby me please take me to bath I want to bath I want to sit under the shower for years mom so that I can wash those inhuman touch which had made me to hate my own body I tried to go towards bathroom but my stomach pain didn't allow me to move myself. I can’t raise my head to see you standing outside through door glass. When someone enter in my room I feel very scared mom my heartbeats gets faster my eyes searches for you please be around me. I don’t want to be alone mom these medical instruments beeps are haunting in my brain they sound like those unhelping traffic sounds which muted my cry and pleads which I was doing that time mom. The silence of this room is remembering me that silence when I was thrown on deserted road I don’t know what happened but I was feeling very much cold in the same way like a person shivering with very high temperature. Mom do you remember once when dad slapped me in childhood how much you fought with him until dad didn't brought my favourite chocolate…where is dad mom I can’t see him...is he okay mom ??? Please don’t let him cry mom. Do you remember once how dad got angry on you when you used to shout on me only for anything but they have beaten me and my dearest friend with some metal it was paining a lot mom I saw how he was bleeding to save me but they were coward rascals they kept on beating him together till he didn't collapsed and then they scratched every parts of my body repeatedly mom. You always taught me to fight with the difficult situations but I am very weak in this situation please hold my hand I want to sleep please put my head in your lap please wash my body give me some pain killer my stomach is paining please tell doctor not to cut more parts of my body its paining a lot. I am sorry mom I can’t fight more……

-The Cry of the Delhi Rape Victim

Few days back, in Delhi, the capital city of India, a 23 year old girl was raped by a gang of four guys who not only assaulted her but put a huge rod inside her vagina. The girl is currently fighting for her life and suffering from septicaemia. Her large and small intestines are permanently damaged.

When I heard this story in the television, it was dinner time. Later I tried eating but nothing went inside. There was a fire, in my inner most cavern, it was one of those red hot feeling, which craved vengeance.

I have grown up among gods and goddesses. Since breathing, we are told about the goddesses who are worshiped, feared and revered. That day, sitting on my father’s room, with the television showcasing the story of the rape victim, broke something inside me, for the first time I lost hope, I lost hope in humanity.

Where is the humanity? How can the people who worship Goddess Durga, Goddess Kali do this level of torture on an innocent girl? Are we girls born to be used? Why are we seen as pleasure tools? Has our worth come to this?

If somebody looks at us with lust, society blames our clothes, our intentions. What people fail to realise is that we are human beings! We have the right to dream, to see and to speak.

Until now, I have never felt black disgust for my country. A country, which is one of the hubs of religion, lacks the power to protect we woman. A country, which treats women as commodities, as tools of sexual pleasure, who should be used, battered and then left to rot naked on the street, does not deserve to be called a developing nation.

Where are our rights? When can we confidently say that we are free? After almost 60 years of Independence, we girls are still subjugated, we girls are still dominated.

Where is justice India?

The End of Humanity

P.S- Pictures are not taken by me. They are random collection from the net. If you own any of the pictures and want me to remove it. Drop in a comment or feel free to mail me.

In her depth, I found peace....

I have always felt the happiest, among my plants, in my terrace. It is one of those places, where I can finally be myself, with no one to order, no one to disturb, just me and my thoughts. I till the soil, mix the manure, trim the plants. It is a welcome pain, It makes me feel alive and close to Nature, who accepted me without my explanations.

During my youthful days, in one of those idyllic afternoons, I fell in love, with my grandmother’s garden. I looked around thunderstruck with appreciation for nature and her abundance. It was instantaneous and lasting. Later, I remember telling my grandmother “Dida, Please leave the garden to me as a part of your legacy.”

She agreed.

In my childhood exuberance, I forgot, things don’t last forever, no matter how much we want them to. Soon came a day, when I did the hardest thing, I bid adieu to the place, where I have felt the happiest. Time and again, my mind wonders to that distant garden, the images blurred due to age and questions like “who inhibits that place now? Who enjoys the same day to day thrill that I have once felt?” creates a momentary riot in my head.

Raindrops after Long months of Droughts!

There is an uncanny unpredictability about life. When things start to look the darkest, something wonderful happens to brighten it up. Just now, I finished my one hour long conversation with my best friend. There is this thing about him, he always tells me things, I don’t want to hear. I hate hearing the truth from him and it eventually ends in a fight. Sometimes, it irritates me, sometimes it makes me happy, I feel alive.

We talked about everything to everything. It’s strange how we have bonded in all these years. Eerily, he knows everything, even when I keep quiet and pretend to listen. Often, I wondered whether he truly knew. But then during my darkest times, he saying, in his deep quiet voice, "I Understand!", feels like the raindrops after long months of droughts.

The First Rays of Peace

Some ghost and memories, they never leave. They are there every day, every hour, every minute. I finally brought myself to face them, my inner demons. I have had enough: the insomnia and paranoia were slowly eating bits and pieces of my being.

I did what I had to, I faced the problem. The next moment, I felt a lightening in the deepest corner of my heart, as if a huge weight has been removed. The day looked brighter and then entered, after the long stormy months, the first rays of peace.

Burnt...in love!

The pain is still there, a steady reminder of him, once in my life. Day before yesterday, I cried, till there were no more tears left. A part of me wants to go back, relive those happy days, whereas the other part wants to move on.

I called my friend, I knew he will understand. I wanted someone to be there, someone who will read through my silence. He told me I am confused, that I should go back. I gave a teary laugh and informed I am over with it, but my heart beat a different tune.

The images, like a ghost, never stop haunting, the endless hours on the phone, the lazy walks down our favourite road, the incessant plans for us, for our future. It was never enough, the more we talked, the hungrier we got.

Suddenly, one fine morning, the reverie was broken. I felt lost, alone with no one to talk to, no one to share my pain with. Who will understand what I felt for him? It’s all there in my heart, locked, in some quiet place.