Obsolete perceptions now termed as redundant Stereotypes and Taboos no longer a blasphemy Flaws embellished on the dress, so resplendent Obsolete perceptions now termed as redundant Mediaeval customs were unnervingly abundant Questioning liberty and life's alchemy Obsolete perceptions now termed as redundant Stereotypes and Taboos no longer a blasphemy
Since childhood I was told not to cry as it was considered to be a sign of weakness in the eyes of the society. And being a boy, it is much harder to even feel a tinge of sorrow for there are a plethora of critics waiting for an opportunity, with bated breaths, to pounce onto such prey to promote their repugnant beliefs.
Alas! Like everyone else I too fell into this abyss and became devoid of emotions. Soon I gathered a certain strength, a handsome confidence that paved way for success and I felt that nothing can be better. The views of the society felt like a verisimilitude echo that possessed gravitas.
But that wasn't the case. I didn't contemplate the fact that this baggage that I'm penting up into the store room of my heart will one day push past the door and lead to a tsunami of emotions. And that's what happened. The door was destroyed, and the emotions were liberated. Free to flow wherever they found a void.
It was an honest mistake from my side, though. But I should've known what was best for me, the views of the society, or my own sanity.
To relinquish pain and be bereft Induce toxicity of chauvinism Spew vile venom about Women Ostracize them for possessing emotions Indecent language, a fundamental attribute Fighting a longstanding war with (T)ears Benevolence a long lost memory Hence, encompassing saudade dearly
Empathy and sympathy dear compadres Confabulating with oneself, a drill Tenderness kept as a priced possession Imperfection celebrated as Vogue Broadening perspective to promote inclusivity Cwtching Tears as a sign of valour Jewels of humbleness embedded on Crown Humanity above all, rest frivolous assurances
Words will fall short if I start describing about the most discombobulating topic, that is, Me.
Since childhood I found solace in solitude for the world outside wasn't ready for me. They couldn't fathom the fact that a Boy can have empathy; show kindness; not be rude unnecessarily; not hurl abuses; not objectify and humiliate females; express and show emotions; be soft-spoken; and most importantly, cry.
I often saw that Men weren't supposed to show any kind of extreme emotion, except anger. And that the entire department of showing emotions was given to Women. But I refused to practice and preach these primitive norms. For me what mattered was being a human first and then involving myself in further clarifications that our ancestors had made, for their fun I suppose.
I feel these are the things that make me different. And I love being different. I don't want to be a part of the herd. What I desire is to be the Lone Wolf betwixt a pack of sheeps. Still it wasn't easy for me, it still isn't. But I solemnly swore in the past, not to bow down to Fear. Hence, I will keep on fighting until I'm valiant.
As my mantra is to keep clinging onto hope and not to turn-off The Light.
To the ones who helped me to keep the light on amidst sheer darkness. These are the two souls who'll always shower abundance of positivity on you and you are going to love reading their work as well. @phoenix_in_ashes@kin_jo
So distant from indigenous land, It entered a place that was yonder. Onto a voyage it had been. To visit Earth was a dream, hence It decided to do so. It had heard a lot about the human race and had thought how fascinating these beings were.
They come together to celebrate every little thing. Like the birth of a new human, or the fact that the human had turned a year older. To carry out processes that they call rituals for a superior spirit that they worship known as God.
All this and the scenic landscape that Earth had. So different from the planet that the one It belonged to. Earth was a place where a plethora of different organisms lived together forming a living chain, interdependent on each other.
The world on this blueish green planet was like a dream, for the planet that It lived on seemed too false. They didn't have so many vibrant colours, myriad of smell, and most importantly the soft and mushy thing that these humans called as clothes.
But what really flabbergasted It was that when it started to walk on the road, everyone seemed as though they had seen a ghost. They made fun of It, laughed a lot, threw all kinds of things and screamed something that by the tone of it did seemed demeaning. Someone even flashed a device that nearly blinded It.
It had also heard of the 'types' of skin colour that these humans demarcated amongst themselves. The 'fair' ones wore the crown of supremacy and the rest were considered as inferior and subject to shallow treatment. Hence, It was glad to know that not everything was perfect between these humans.
They recite mellifluous words of unity but when the time comes, dare to falter to keep it in place and blame their own. It was at peace to know that the land where it came from didn't have such segregation based on the appearance of each being.
Therefore, it strode off to the bewitching caelum for this dream was not much of a good one. It hoped that maybe over the period of time things will change on planet Earth and all these humans will abide by what they speak about unity and equality.
Transcending to an Iota of a world where Ubiquity fleed
Where petrichor seemed Like an artifact stored in Attic of the heart
And none misused their Abridged power to showcase A panalopy
Of orthodox perceptions For third gender family
There's been a myriad of mendacious rumours that only add up to the fire rather than extenuating it. The third gender community is a part of our society since ages. Considered as a symbol of unity and strength by some. Some only think about them when a certain religious ritual is to be carried out. But spew venom about them once their purpose is fulfilled.
It is a life choice that was concomitant. Yet they strive to struggle to make their mark in the society even after being a subject of harsh treatment by some. The society should contemplate the fact that people of the community aren't provided with a higher education or employment opportunities and are, therefore, forced to ask for money. It is not something they do willingly, rather it's a choice they have to make.
I wish for a parallel world where the Third Gender would be revered and considered as equals. Where they'd marry the person they love. Where the young ones would no longer store their respective dreams into an attic inside their heart, closed for eternity, or put on lipstick, wear a saree and go to people's houses to give blessings. The same people who loathe them and are cunning.
I hope people don't misuse this honour they get when the Hijras, as they are referred to in India, visit their house. I hope they respect them and help them if they are in ardent need of it. To make them a part of the society and not ostracize them.
Not to forget the ancient belief, that their 'dua' (blessing) is always heard.
He presented her With enchanting Violets For every cold night When blood burgeoned within Betwixt her tender legs
When the bond of holy matrimony was sealed, it seemed as though all the best pieces fell into a quintessential chronological order. That every young canary dreams about. Since childhood she played, encompassed by spices of life. Some terrible, some beautiful. Some went awry but some were scrumptious.
I used to watch this drill every day through the window. But one day, that bud blossomed into a beautiful flower. And soon there were potential admirers who wanted to have it. So was a young gallant fellow.
A jocund affair it was when they became one. And so the leaves gave it a new flavour. Like a bewitching dream it was. But soon the dawn of Autumn arrived and a monochromatic abyss announced its arrival.
Day after day it stormed. With leaves falling every now and then. The tree wept for it no longer had the capacity to hold the little canary, the innocent bud that used to stay jauntily at its behest was plucked by lecherous beings.
Blood dripped from her stem, her branches, her petals. And Violet turned a shade darker. Coercion was like a daily chore for him, and endurance for her. Even though he had the utmost right to do so, consensus was never an option.
I was no longer a bunch of violets. I was transformed into melancholy. That stayed hovering over the poor soul that was bereft of tears as well. Too tired to even cry.
It happens in a marriage as it's considered normal. It is an offence that hasn't been promulgated into a law as of yet. But there seems a need for it. Everyone interprets it as though they have the pertinent knowledge. When we talk about sexual assault, then I guess Marital Rape should also be given a legal status. Section 375 of the Indian Penal Code (IPC) considers the forced sex in marriages as a crime only when the wife is below age 15. Thus, marital rape is not a criminal offense under the IPC.
forestbornA person with a beautiful heart is so rare to find these days. I reread it. More power to your pen. There is nothing more rare and nor more beautiful than a person who understand the pain of others.
I second your thoughts. And I hope people do take this into consideration and show a little kindness towards others. For everyone has something or the other going on, emotionally, mentally, physically, or a combination of the three.
Letting go of the fallacies Gloriously enameling the identity Boisterously flamboyant Trying to carve a niche Quixotic world coercing to remain silent Illicit it is perceived Albeit with Pride, it'll be fought
It is hard! To survive in a world that tells you that you are different. Being mocked for every attribute of yours. The way you talk, walk, stand, sit, watch, behave, laugh, cry and even breathe, I suppose. And so the journey of finding oneself begins.
At first one is not capable, or to put it aptly according to the prevailing perceptions, one doesn't have the knowledge about what the concept of sexuality is. And if one finds herself/ himself in such a position then it is perplexing to their mind.
The society is supposed to function in a certain manner, or so it is ordered to. Mediaeval norms are still prevalent and the ones preaching, protect it as a sacred artifact. And so if someone is found to be a little off-putting then that individual is declared as the target of humiliation and harsh scrutiny.
People all over the world have fought and are still fighting for equal rights to the LGBTQIA+ community. We live in the year 2021 but still it is a crime to Love, a person, irrespective of anything, wholly and solely. To treat the individuals who feel this way differently is a task many have adorned.
But gone are those days when this society was under toxic chauvinistic patriarchy. We believe in coexistence, inclusivity and diversity now. And if anyone dares to impede it, then they'll have to face the wrath of these 'different' individuals and all those others who support them. But not in the form of war, more like an intervention in the form of knowledge. With a clear, pure and genuine intention, that is, to be considered an equal and to be accepted with love.
The symbolism of The Rainbow signifies: Hope, after a storm; Beauty, in every angle possible; Light, amidst ferocious darkness; Courage, betwixt pangs of doubt; Voice, that will never cease; Pinnacle, showing that only sky is the limit; and Love, that'll be showered on everyone.
A day will come when a human will be seen as a human, without any classifications. And that day will be the true symbol of Pride!
If I were a tree. A tree that signified promises of perfection. Bearing the fruits of idealism and the buds of purity. What if this universe had thousands of perfect trees with apt arborescent qualities. There'd be no broken bulbs contaminating the sacred environment.
During the days of yore, trees were worshipped as a symbol of virtue. Although, it is a bit subfusc now. As the definition of perfection has taken a drastic change.
For quite a while, not showing one's weakness, being blasphemous, being obnoxious, speaking ill, bullying, indulging in partisanship and chauvinism, formed the core rainbow of discrepant perfection, as poems for the same were proudly recited.
Etching a deep wound on those who were outcasts, like those trees that were unable to bear fruits or flowers, being left forlorn for eternity. Snatching away the strings of their heartbeat.
But the fertilization of trees is different these days. As they don't boast of its fruits possessing the same definition of perfection. The days are different now. It is being comprehended that it isn't necessarily a virtue to be crowned with perfection as it is nothing but an overrated myth.
Hence, a farm or a garden that has imperfect trees or plants is considered vogue. Expressing weaknesses and exposing flaws is considered as audacity. And the same shall prevail.
//Imperfection is the invisible trance with echos of obscured cacophony//
A place where you'll have an experience of lifetime, without being judged for who you are or what you represent. None can steal your identity, for there's zilch suppression from society as one is encompassed by group of fellow misfits.
Be who you are, unabashedly and unapologetically, with utmost self-respect!
It ain't easy! When things go wrong When hardships and failures are a daily chore No sign of hope to be seen The darkness took over the bright light Creativity obstructed by cobwebs of despair Engulfing our heart, mind and soul To its very core Building an invisible cage Of nothing but pain Enduring is all we got Lost the spirit to fight Wounded by the the connoisseurs of evil An avalanche of tears of blood A volcanic eruption in the head Numbness all around And all the might lost
But that is not the only output For there are a plethora of options To travel Places where verdanty dances Pristine crowns of optimism are bestowed Aroma of scrumptious coffee flows A world full of Hope Gradually making it to the top Carving your own niche Clawing the way out of that darkness For this journey is apt Treating the inner demons with care and warmth Nurturing and embracing the fears For purity and love are the most important weapons To kill the devil Slowly and steadily But for real
On this occasion of World Mental Health Day, I want to convey through my poem that Mental Health is a serious concept! And yes it is treatable. A taboo that's been shunned for so long but guess what, Time's Up!
So this is my submission for the amazing collaboration challenge hosted by @a_fleeing_fossil The line //the scars he bestowed me surpass a multitude of stars in the universe// is her's. This is the second part, so kindly check out the first part, beautifully woven by my awesome task partner @lovethatneverfades
I had my very first coital. Had perpetually felt as though it was the only thing missing in my life. But as the first Sunrays of the next day kissed my face, I realised it wasn't what I'd wanted. Watching all those movies and series taught me it was always primarily about intimacy. But all I wanted at that time was him, unabashedly and unapologetically. It was more about the proximity.
As it turns out, he thought all I wanted was just a night with him. That's what he thought of me, a One Night Stand. Guess, I was the only Wallflower there and he was the king of the Dandelions. I begged him to stay, sobbing and screaming. But he left.
I never saw him for an entire month, until our graduation. Both our families decided to celebrate it together as a dinner party at a plush restaurant. And then the most unexpected thing happened, he brought a girl with him introducing her as his girlfriend. Unable to control my tears, I looked outside the glass window. The stars were shining, just like that night when we were together. I felt they were smiling down at my misery, as now the scars he bestowed me surpass a multitude of stars in the universe. And there was no looking back, for I didn't know how to conceal them.
//How I yearned to look at his mischievous grin, for contentment was something I felt after watching him do that//
We spoke at midnight. He wished me luck for my future. I did the same. There was no bitterness, he'd always wanted the best for me. He asked me if I was going to tell my parents. Was I ever going to feel comfortable telling them about me?
//Letting out the articles hidden inside the closet of my heart//
They had a reputation of nobility as they believed in the faith of humanity. But was it the real humanity they believed or a manipulated version that was passed on to them by their ancestors. I was a stardust for them, the apple of their eye. They were orthodox but it wasn't my fault. Did I commit a sin, for I loved someone from the bottom of my heart. Is love a crime? How can it be, a mother loves her child. Children love their parents. Siblings and cousins love each other. Then why are we labelling love? For who shall and shall not be loved?
And if this is a crime, then I want to be a criminal and accept whatever punishment they want to give. As I don't want to live in a world where I have to suppress my feelings. There are places, where this feeling of mine is nurtured and embraced. Where there are a Rainbow of opportunities.
Where people live with L iberty, G aiety, B ravery, T ranquility, Q uietude, I nspiration and A dmiration.
All through childhood one is told to be perfect. Maybe to follow an individual with idealistic personality.
To be a part of the herd. But you know what, I don't care. I don't want to be ideal or be a perfectionist. I want to live a life less ordinary and crazy. At a certain point, one has to make a choice, to either be a leader or be a follower.
But it takes guts to be different. Different from the quintessential individuals who are too much predictable.
And I am like that. I'm not a part of the rat race because I have flaws. Flaws that empower me and tell me that if I'm not better, atleast I'm different.