Women are burning alive since long…trying to adjust and live through, decked up as per others wishes..burning within still…I ask, are women free? Can we have faith that all will be good with our girls? How do we trust and have faith in this world but then how do we live without trust and faith? My father says, no matter what you have to have faith, bind your heart in faith coz there is no other way.
I call a place mystical when it is capable of arousing the deep-seated mysticism within me; I call this very mysticism my spiritual need. I was very small then, and I remember the only place we could afford was a night’s journey from my home tucked up in the plush hills somewhere.
I had sensed a higher Power for the very first time, a Power quite beyond my reckon and understanding. Bodhgaya still pulls me to it, like it is a magnetic bar and as though, I stand on an opposite pole.
No wait! Who knows I maybe the rusty red iron ore dust wafting with the winds?But, the seat of Buddha cannot be erased from my mind, no matter how many times I have denied the existence of God within me.
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The place was dark….damp and loveless, I could feel.
But I could do nothing, my hands were bound, and I couldn’t steal
the steel junk, those high walls, blinded streets, fixed eyes.
I struggled, for each breath…..the warmth was missing, people were cunning, conniving masses.
I was merely a means for them, to earn more. Those puny minds, small hearts tried selling me.
They tried gnawing me, wounding me seemed easy for them.
But then Evil is always stupid and I had to see right through their stupidity
A duel with their irrationalism made me firm.
But alas! They took me to be weak. They bullied criminally,
wanted to scare me, forced me from all ends. I simply could not get more of them.
“What idiots?” I thought. They killed when not happy, they did not believe in free speech.
They did not believe I was equal when it came to harming others.
If I pinched they threw stones. Cowards fought girls and were called men.
I slipped away. I created a conditioned reflex for them.
They are still a slave if it sadly as I rest in peace, standing in a corner I see them dance.
Sadly they want more of the conditioned pattern but then they have to know the difference between their lie and my truth.
They are dead, vanquished long back even when I was amidst them.
Each day they wait to offer their paltry ways.
Each day they hope I would return perhaps
They think still they had seen love in my eyes.
Sadly it was a reflection of their hatred.
There can be no force that fierce to take me back to prison, where they made
Every attempt to turn me a criminal so that they could call me their own.
Sadly there is no road backwards, sadly there are no paths downwards left for me to tread.
Sadly or happily, yet happily and gaily I walk forward.
What do you wait for?
Love, freedom, life, better life, healing and all those words.
What if I tell you, I am waiting for all to appear together.
A moment when nothing is less or more,
A moment when nothing stays, yet lasts you a lifetime.
I cannot say life is good, I cannot say life is bad.
All I can say is life is beautiful and unfolding,
But I am still waiting, waiting for that one day when I can make it my own.
When I can wear my She Crown,
When I no longer frown,
At the mere mention of the word brown.
It’s been a long while I am free.
Almost alone, stranded, nowhere to go standing tall like a tree.
It’s been all about waiting, my life, my knife, my wait never ends
I wish it ends one day when I am going to become one
With my life and death, when I finally sleep, when I finally sleep.