Violence and Women!

All of us have heard a very common saying - Behind every successful man, there is a woman, but do all of us believe it too? Going by the prevalent cruelties towards girls and women, the answer is an unfortunate No!

The value of women in India has been subject to great changes since the ancient times. From the Vedic Philosophers, sharing equal status with men, to the drops experienced during the medieval period, to the modern period of reformers like Kiran Bedi, the journey of women over the past few millennia has been very eventful.

Talking of the present scenario, there is no doubt that women today walk hand in hand with men in every field of life and have also held offices as high as that of the President, the Prime Minister, speaker of Lok Sabha and also the leader of the opposition in the Lok Sabha.  However, if you look at the other side of this coin, you will find that the word darkness has found an all new meaning. Women continue to face atrocities such as female feticide, rapes, acid throwing, dowry killings, young girls being forced into prostitution and the situation is only going from bad to worse. Of late, the graph of the brutal rape cases in public areas has drastically gone up. It is being reported that India is the most dangerous country to live in for women among the G20 countries. Isn’t this downright outrageous?

It is the mindset of the people that needs a major change. We live in a deeply misogynistic society, a society where girls are killed before they are born, a society where they say may you be the mother of a hundred sons. The celebrations are still bigger when a son is born than when a daughter is born. Girls are still widely regarded as a burden to many Indian families who fear the high costs of their weddings and resent spending money on their education only for them to later leave home to marry. They are, in fact, ill treated. Many rural families find it difficult to manage without at least one boy and this, in turn, leads to an increase in the number of female feticide cases. The widespread discrimination against girls ranges from neglect to abuse and killing of unwanted female infants.

A selfless mother, a caring sister, a loving daughter, a supportive wife, a loyal friend, a woman is all this and more. Yet looked down upon, she has to worry about her safety every moment. Ever thought what a girl feels when she hears about a new rape case almost every day or reads about 93 dowry deaths in just 4 months?  Ever tried asking a girl what goes on her mind when she, unwilling, has to travel alone at night? She doesn’t let it show, but deep down inside she is apprehensive.

“Mom, I never tell you, but this dreadful night frightens me

This world is giving birth to brutal monsters, I feel unsafe

My work is over, but it’ll be 10 p.m. by the time I reach my place

I am on my own, come and hide me with your warm embrace

Dad, there are challenging hurdles to be faced at every step

So many issues; no reason, no mistake, expect I am a girl

I feel the safest when I hold your finger and walk like a kid

I wish I could stay under your protective shelter forever”

How easy it is for the people to dictate a Do’s and Don’ts list to girls, how easy it is to blame it on girls’ lifestyle when one of them, unfortunately, has to deal with a nightmarish horror. The issue of brutal assaults never got national attention until the 16^th December, 2012 Delhi gang-rape case which led to an outrage and outpouring of anger in the country. People expected some major systemic changes, but, history repeated itself. Headlines faded as they always do, public anger diminished to some extent and an accused, the so-called juvenile, is still roaming free. As a result, even after so many months, we see no significant change in the situation of women. Despite the protests, there is a rape happening every 22 minutes with a system that’s non reactive; the Mumbai gang-rape case being the latest. What is the solution? Who can take the initiative? The answer, maybe, is a woman reformer like Kiran Bedi, who stands out when it comes to accepting the shortcomings of a system, and takes the responsibility of doing whatever it demands to bring about a change in the existing system.

Dr. Kiran Bedi is India’s first and highest ranking woman police officer who joined the Indian Police Service in 1972. Blessed with a long, highly accomplished career and a loving family, she was voted the most admired woman in India in 2002. She has the foresight to think what is possible and stretches it further to drive it’s always possible! She is tough and uncompromising from one perspective and compassionate and caring from the other. Till today, most admire and love her; the corrupt fear, despise and hate her; and the wise, support her. Her transparency and straightforward attitude comes in the way of many. However, combined with her compassion and the drive to pursue the right path for a bigger and higher purpose, her attitude becomes her most powerful strength, to the extent that even the toughest kind of hurdles cannot stop her.

In 2007, she took a voluntary retirement to pursue her commitment to the education of underprivileged children and women, drug abuse rehabilitation and rural reform and continues her journey of social reform as a founder of two NGOs, Navjyoti and India Vision Foundation. She is one person in power who agreed with the crowd and said that the 16th December gang rape could have been prevented if the daily homework of crime prevention was done by the cops. In fact, she did take steps to help change things in Delhi police. Among many traffic super cops, Dr. Kiran Bedi is single handedly responsible for bringing safety and discipline in the public transport system in terms of treatment of women travelling in the buses. Because of the discipline introduced by her, travel in DTC (Delhi Transport Corporation) buses became much safer for women commuters. Her bold actions came at a cost to her career and her family. Despite that she would treat all equal and not spare a wrong doer just because he or she held a VIP status or was affiliated with a VIP family.

If we go back in time, we will see that women themselves were Rishis of the Rig-Veda. There were no harmful restrictions, no attempt to keep them secluded, uneducated or debarred from their legitimate place in the society. The ceremony of marriage was an appropriate one, the custom of child marriage was then, unknown. Thus, the real solution to today’s problem is that we need to learn what we were forced to forget. Moreover, the present scenario needs more reformers like Dr. Kiran Bedi, who will do the much required task of reminding the monsters, the importance of women and what life would be without them. Also, a little effort needs to be put in by all the mothers of our country because, it is not just how you bring up your daughters but also about how you bring up your sons that can make the difference. Women, most importantly, need to pledge that they will stop covering and shrouding any issue in silence. What ever wrong happens, it is an issue to talk about. Being a female citizen of a democratic country, I would like to ask that why we, the women of this country, should need to be scared or vulnerable? Why can’t we go out when we like, where we like and dressed, as we like?

At the end, let’s remember a part of Kaifi Azmi’s poem Aurat -

“tu haqiqat bhi hai dilchasp kahaani hi nahi

teri hasti bhi hai ik chiz javaani hi nahi
apni tarrikh kaa unvaan badalnaa hai tujhe

uth meri jaan mere saath hi chalnaa hai tujhe”

From the heart of River Ganga!

With rains overflowing rivers and making them leave their assigned land

There are curses for rivers causing destruction on the motherland

People are accusing nature of playing an obnoxious game

And for the loss due to floods, the beastly mad rivers they blame

As a reply to this, The Ganga, mother of all rivers, smiled and said

“I, too, am scared of being driven away from my very own land

My clean current is constantly being polluted by mankind

And despite their willfulness, reasons to reprehend me, people find

My pure waters have incessantly borne the wastes of every human

Left overs of living and dead are flown in the name of religious devotion

I am contaminated by the polythene bags floating in me

With the stench of dead animals, all I wish to do is flee

The putrid smelling water from the city drains, forms my kin

For the garbage produced by industries, I am the assigned bin

Waters of all streams have been narrowed down to build cities

And humans simply turn a blind eye to their respective duties

When man’s will has been crossing all the set limits,

I am bound to cross mine too, so as to come to terms with it

Humans are tyrant and have continuously been exploiting nature

And to nourish their selfish interests, the environment they torture

It is difficult for me to overcome any sort of hurdle in my way

Yet the cost of their constant atrocities, the rivers have to pay

You ignorant creatures, rivers aren’t overflowing to flood your land

Instead, it’s a cleanliness campaign to flush all the garbage off the river bed!”

A trek to Heaven!

Set like a jeweled crown on the map of India,

Kashmir is a gorgeous diamond, a beauty insignia-

Wild profusion of colors, serenity, and grandeur,

Captures the quintessence of elements to describe nature

The less known, breathtaking area of The Great Lakes,

Wide meadows, the glaciers, deep blue sky and clear streams,

Away from civilization, untouched by the ravages of progress,

Beckons every soul to experience the spellbinding landscapes

Lush green carpet rolling down from trees to meadows

Multicolored flowers springing out next to your toes

The icy cold water streams, the lakes in their different hues

And big waterfalls splashing down the mountain tops

The amazing trek route including a walk on a small glacier

And a pencil thin line traversing through the mountains

The hoping led to crawling on a steep terrain full of boulders

Can make you experience and relive the precious childhood days

The beauty is no less than a painting on the wall

Impossible to describe in words; short the words fall

To walk in such an area is an experience one of its kind

A trek more beautiful than this, I’m sure is difficult to find! 

A Martyr's Story!

Words fall short for the soldier, who protected the country at the cost of his life,

Who dreamt of a beautiful honeymoon but couldn’t spend a moment with his wife,

Who had an intense desire to fulfil a wish before death, a wish that no one knows,

His family awaits him; he never came back, his body remained devoid of the last rites.

Words fall short for the soldier, who wrote a message for his family before the war-

“Mom, don’t worry, our motherland has replaced your lap for you are a little too far,

Dad, don’t miss me, I am now a part of all our fellow countrymen whose lives I could save,

Brother, wear my uniform, take my responsibility, the nation you have to serve,

Sister, your “rakhi” is precious, but understand that the country needs me more,

I hope I could make all of you proud, proud to be called a “Martyr’s family member”.”

Words fall short for the soldier, who completely lost his youth fighting in a combat,

Who willing chose to suffer the hardships, when he had the option of being a bureaucrat,

Who dedicated his life to the country and deserves a lot more than just 21 gun salute,

He deserves to be remembered; he can never “die”, despite being shot dead in the dispute.

Words just fall short!

PS: Dedicated to the soldiers on LOC.

She...

Blessed with the precious task of bringing a new life on earth

She is a mother; selflessly devotes her life to the child she gives birth

An affectionate sister, she can willing annihilate her life for her siblings

She is in a baby girl; to her family, a bunch of happiness her arrival brings

Yet looked down upon, she worries every moment about her safety

Victim of brutal assaults, dowry, gender bias; yearns for her security

No rules defined for the guilty; no strict punishments for the culprits

Despite the atrocities, she is the one dictated the Do’s and Don’ts lists

Born to an androcentric society, she struggles day and night

Oppression under patriarchy- Pandora’s Box of issues to fight

Borne enough pain, she longs for justice, she wants relief,

Respect equal to her counterparts and freedom from her grief.

She is neither a slave, bound to follow her masters’ time table

Nor a jailbird to be strictly assigned a particular apparel

Neither a commodity to be used nor an object to be played with

She deserves exactly what her male peers do, for she is human indeed.

Fashion is an Art!

Fashion and Fashionistas, Art and Artists

Resemblances abound, differences definitely mere

Like an artist painting a canvas

Requires focus to avoid disgrace

Decking up a model, grease painting her face

Demands equal efforts to attract human race

Like the strokes of the brush, the painted picture

Gives a clear insight to the artists thoughts

The designed attire, the perfect maquillage

Can help gauge a designers instinct

Fashion is a style, a design, a thought

Fashion, hence, is an art that a stylist adopts

Some things unsaid!

This is the story of the time when this girl joins college after school. Her college was miles away from her place and she being extremely attached to her family, took time to adjust in this stranger-land until she became a part of this society in her college where she got a chance to professionally pursue what she loved the most-Writing. Of course her friends helped her adjust too but this society, its people and its work somehow became her life in that otherwise boring place. She would work passionately and with full dedication not because she wanted anything out of it, but because it gave her happiness. She just simply loved it. Moreover, all her seniors-the heads then, were pleased to see her work and complimented her from time to time. They loved her work so much so that they dint have to think twice before giving her the “second highest post- the post of the vice-president” of the society despite her being a junior. This motivated her and she worked with the same zeal the next year too but with a different set of people, a new set of heads, all of them being seniors in the college but either at an equal or at a lower post in the society and so obviously they envied her; the reason being obvious- “she was a junior”.

 The society that is supposed to work for the complete one year had no credentials in its pockets for the first 6 months. This girl would work all by herself when it came to getting permissions, waiting for the officials for hours together to get stuff signed, going through the society’s work or putting all the pains in making the events of the society happen; but it wouldn’t take her co-workers (the seniors as they are called) more than a minute to cancel everything. She would remind them about how late it was getting and how much their work lagged behind, but there was hardly anyone to listen. She would constantly remind them about the planned deadlines and was willing to do whatever it would take to achieve that deadline but unfortunately had no support whatsoever. She would inform them about how much work was done the previous year by that particular moment but they had cheap justifications to give about why the work was done the previous year, which surprised her no end. But she being a junior could do NOTHING about it! She would continuously warn them that it’ll become difficult for her to work during exams but they paid no attention to it.

Then began the 7^th month when finally the teams were given some work but with impossible deadlines; they had to rush through, for there being no other alternative to complete the work on time. Time kept passing by. They couldn’t get quality, for the parts which demanded days together, were to be completed in less than a day. Meanwhile, they could manage a few events in their name, but none of them being a grand success.

Her co-workers partied invariably and went places; trips one after the other but when it came to her- going for two yes just TWO birthday treats brought her a bad name. She was a career oriented kid who couldn’t let her studies suffer too but that was problematic for her co-workers, the seniors, despite the fact that she made sure that her studies and the “two birthday treats” never let her work suffer. She was tortured from time to time. She was asked to complete her part which demanded at least 4 days in less than a day. And she DID IT, but they never appreciated. She was insulted to a real great extent for no reason. She did never mind going back from home to college a day early which demanded a 15 hour long journey and then travelling again for the entire day immediately after reaching back. She didn’t mind not sleeping for days together or falling sick if that was for the benefit of the society. But they would neglect EVERYTHING.

And in the end when it came to going to the officials to get the work appreciated, they would go all by themselves. They would never even inform her about it. And, then came the examination days, the end of the year. They weren’t through yet; the society that was supposed to complete its work at least a month before exams, still required to go places. This girl had travelled enough while one of her co-workers (the President herself) did not even go once. She had excuses (silliest ones on earth) to give, all of them being acceptable for she was at the highest post and no one could question her. They were seniors-they were placed, their careers were set but the girl was still a junior. She had her parents’ wishes to fulfil. She couldn’t manage going for the society to this place again for that required bunking classes when her attendance was already below the border line which in turn meant she would require to repeat the subject if she dint stay back, she had submissions due for that date which if not submitted would cost her a substantial amount of loss in 4 subjects and she had exams beginning exactly after 3 days. They pissed her off so much but she had no other option except refusing to go. But you know how the senior-junior relationship is. Refusal meant she misbehaved. And for them, this one refusal was her biggest mistake ever. Was that really misbehaviour? And when you are working at a professional level, are you really juniors and seniors when you are at the same post? Do you really have to forget your studies, your friends to be a part of the society? And is it only the “so called juniors” who have to do that?

Finally came the last day, the post giving and the appreciation night for the society. Her co-workers did not even mention her name while appreciating the rest of the team. They just completely neglected the past and kept in their minds the “refusal” and what happened “during exams”. Those exams weren’t so important for them, for they were placed, all settled but her career was somehow dependent on those exams. And when it came to giving the post of the president, they appointed a new one (not because new girl deserves it better but because they wanted to humiliate her) and gave her the post of the vice-president again along with another new vice-president. This girl was shocked. She had nothing to say, she felt numb for a while. After a few minutes, her brains worked and she resigned from the post that was given to her then and there. They tried to portray as if they were doing a favour which she never wanted. She knew what she deserved and learnt about the mean world, for she never knew how mean this world could get.

Why did they not listen to her when she would regularly tell them the consequences of delaying work? And in the end if she had genuine reasons, why was it so difficult for them to understand? Is it really the end that matters and the complete one year minus 15 days of no importance for a decision? Will this decision really be called a valid decision? Was that justice enough? She is sure that somewhere deep down inside even her co-workers’ know how wrong their decision was and will one day surely feel guilty of it.

It is said that “life is a mirror; it’ll reflect your actions back to you!”

All this affected her a lot. The post giving being in between the exams affected her exams too but she decides to leave it behind and continue her normal life. She believes, all that happens, happens for the best and this will have something better in store for her. She forgives them and will definitely forget them as days pass by. But before that, she felt like pouring her heart out by spilling the beans; an attempt to take a step against this corrupt world. It is not the arrogance that made her write but her feelings which she did not want to leave buried deep inside her heart as “those things unsaid”.

PS: She congratulates the new post holders and is really happy for them and wishes that they don't repeat such a thing again! :) 

I Can't Stand Poems! ;)

The shuffling of words of a phrase

To form the lyrical rhyme of a verse

The central theme depicting sarcasm and irony

The scenic beauty revealing imagery

Slight distortion of English never being a mistake

The so called poetic license makes it accurate

The silliest of assumptions it holds

And a mad man’s world it unfolds

A poem can make a dog bleed grey

And to an elephant, a lion can fall prey

It is weird how personification makes a tree talk

And a lifeless wall clock suddenly begins to walk

How easily it makes the impracticalities come true

And realistic happenings portrayed are just so few

Metaphors - poets, the real mad men as they are called

As it happens only in a mad man’s imagination after all

The unrealistic world, the impractical ways

The oh so lyrical rhyme and imaginations astray

Imagery, alliteration, personification and what not

I just can’t stand poems at all! ;)

The Speaking Tree

Spending his days under my shade, he became my family and friend

I reside at the border dividing into countries, the same piece of land

Witnessing for ages, the war between countries, war between religions

I started shielding him from feud; I shed my leaves and endured pains

He, an orphan Hindu boy in the Muslim realm, and I, a mere tree

We played and he scrambled my twigs and danced around me

Dampened my roots and hugged me tight and cared like a baby

And my leaves got greener each time I saw him happy

We shared a special bond, a real special connection

I, who had seen mere battles, for the first time “felt” affection

Been here for centuries but “lived” just the 4 years with him

During any combat, would hide him inside my hollow stem

We together, always managed to escape every terror

But one day, somehow perceived by a Paki who loomed with a dagger

Caught him, and he was dragged towards the border prison

And was tied around a pole and beaten up like a felon

My innocent little human chum was snatched from me

And I then refused to live further in a world like this

It wasn’t autumn yet but I did shed the rest of my leaves

Because that’s how I express anger, that’s how I weep!

Plight of a Bread Loaf

A thick paste of flour and water turned into a slice

A plain white surface, with neither arms nor legs or eyes

But I do possess feelings, a fact no one’s aware of

And bearing the situation around has become real tough

Easily available for the rich- unfortunate but true

Consumed completely and properly only by a few

The rest, guzzle some pieces and fling the rest into the bin

And the dirty heap of garbage then forms my kin

Kids from the lower strata regularly visit my new place

They see me and there’s a spark in their eyes, a smile on their face

But by then, I grow stale, mostly completely rotten

My body is taken over by a painful fungal infection

But that’s beyond the point for the innocent toddlers

They pick a slice and munch through without fear

And many fall ill; at times even lose their lives

What they choose to fill their empty stomach causes demise

I curse myself, I curse my very existence

Misused by the rich; poor become the bearers of the loss

Unable to stop this, I cry at my plight; I plead, I want to be heard

Here I am, a loaf of bread, waiting to be valued by mankind!