for my dear friend

I know I only think about you when I do not have any other option.
I know you will still patiently wait for me,
I know you will sit with me and listen to me,
And smile and console me,
You know I love you,
You know I love you when I want to,

But my dear, here I open out my heart to you
No matter what,
No matter how much effort it takes me to build this up,
I will.

With every ounce of my will,
I’ll make the effort to be your friend,

When the world crushes down on me,
I know you’ll be there.
Not reminding me of the many wrongs I did to you,
You will hold my hand,
And look into my eyes and hug me.

I know you will,
And that’s why this attempt.
This meagre attempt to say thanks.

To say thanks for all that you have done,
For being there with me,
For understanding me very well,
Even though I am hardly able to reciprocate.
I say thanks to you, and only to you.

And as I wind up,
I want you to only close your eyes,
And smile into the fresh breeze,
And I will capture that moment forever,
My dear friend.

Flying To Freedom

Always wanted to fly, I had.
Yes always wanted to fly.
Though when I looked back,
My life was a dead sea.
Black.

And away from that place,
I had wanted to fly.
So far away into the vast blue canopy,
That my sorrows just drown away.

And with wings,
Like a white bird,
Like a cotton bud,
In the white clouds
I will hide.

Yes, I will hide.
Camouflaged perfectly in the happiness of the purity
And whiteness surrounding me.
I will pretend to be happy,
Yes I will.

It will bring me freedom,
The freedom to cry out,
The freedom to laugh out loud,
Oh yes it will.

Only if I could fly.

As her mother took her last breath in,
She rushed through the foggy mist,
Not able to breathe herself,
She halted, screeched,
Rummaged for water.



Hardly able to drink she was,
Spilling few drops on to the earthy ground.
She started her car again,
Speeding,
Seeing the trees pass by,
Her memories hit a flash back.



All the things came rushing to her,
And as the memories flowed in,
Also fell the first drop of tear from her dark brown eyes.



Her throat again dry,
She didn’t stop.



Promenading the hospital corridors,
She reached, ICU
She missed a heartbeat; the words gave her a shock,
Shivering she entered,
Only to find a ragged pile of pale bones.
The wrinkled hands rose in acknowledgment
Holding on to her hand,
Her mother smiled,
Which she was unable to return.



It was just as if her mother was waiting
For this last perfect bond to happen,



“MAMA!!’ she cried
Her mother heard it too,
The last words of her daughter,
Which hardly felt the way when she had first said it years ago.



The clock kept running,
There was nothing more to do,
She wiped her tears and got out of the room.



For one last time
She looked back at those same words
I C U
It made sense to her for some very odd reason,
I See You
And again for some unknown reason she smiled,
Just as the droplet from her eyes
Followed the beautiful curve of her lips.

Seeing the smile on her face,
Jumping with joy as we rode on
Looking at the trees running by
She clapped her hands
Widened her pupils in awe


I was too elated
Watching my child euphoric
I mouthed a prayer,
To keep my child always happy

And it was then that happened
A loud blast of black
Sent us all flying away

Refusing to let go off her
I tightly held my child

I fell harshly onto the ground
Bruises and blood marks all over my body
But my child was safe
Yes she was!
Safe in my arms

But then suddenly I couldn’t breathe
I couldn’t see
Dizzy blur
I could hear her screaming
Crying, shouting


She hit my face
Poked my eyes open
And the last glance I had
She was still crying.

And since long after
I didn’t open my eyes
She slept beside me
Tears still streaming from her eyes,
Hoping her mother would wake up soon
She yawned
And hugged her mother’s lifeless body.

Looking through the tear drop
That refused to fall off from my eyes
Clinging on to my eyelashes
It just held there my sigh


Looking back at the glass of mirror
That now lay broken, shattered
I stood thinking, reeling over and over again
To what just happened


Rushing, running, I had reached out to the door
Pushing strongly,
Breathless to see what happened inside


Those bright red drops,
Dripping onto the velvet carpet
From the pink pout of my own


Scooping my child
I ran to those white angels
They said they’ll try their best
To give me back my happiness


And after a very long time
I knelt and prayed
Prayed to all the Gods
And to the Universe
To take my life and let my heart live


My heart did beat
And as I counted the passing seconds
“I’m sorry, we tried our level best”

what work does your father do?

The reason for giving such a title to my post is because this is the very same question which prompted me to write a blog post after a very long time.





I teach as a part time job. And also earn. To one of my students, who is in the second standard, one day, I was teaching a lesson -Family. After reading the chapter, I had told him to answer the questions given at the end of the lesson. He was beautifully answering all the questions when suddenly he came across a question for which he had no answer- what work does your father do?


He interrupted me and asked what to write as an answer. Now, let me inform you all that his father is unemployed and his mother is the breadwinner of the family. He continued staring at me blankly. I too had no clue as to what to say or do so I stupidly read the question out to him again- what work does your father do? When I knew that his father doesn’t do anything.


After an awkward pause, I asked him to answer the next question presuming there must be something about the mother’s job. But alas! None! No question about what work the mother might be doing! THAT led me to muse on this subject.
There are two questions that disturbed me.


One, Is it so easily assumed that a woman cannot be the sole earner in a family? It has also seeped into academics. It is almost like telling the kids that your father’s job holds more importance than your mother’s. What fueled my annoyance was the fact that there wasn’t any mention of the mother’s job in the book. And ironically, the lesson was named “Family”.


Two, even if the mother is working, is her job of less worth than her husband’s that it doesn’t even find place to be mentioned in an EVS book?
Why isn’t it still acceptable that a woman does work? That she also earns? And that her job is also important?


Why is it hard to digest that a man doesn’t work and that the mother is the one who earns for the family?

Moreover why is it so easily assumed that the father must be working?

I have no answers.

I have nothing to conclude.

This was the first time I had a talk about pre marital sex with my parents. It started with the discussion of Khushboo’s comment. And as expected, my parents completely opposed the idea of pre marital sex. When asked why, my father said “you have a certain background and certain morals. Pre marital sex is ‘unholy’.” What made it funnier was my father hardly was vocal with the word “sex”. He stopped at pre marital! That is it! I was to assume it was about sex.
I, of course, as a teenager with active hormones, reacted strongly to this. Firstly, is sex the deciding factor of one’s morals? Would having sex before marriage make you “unworthy” of living in the society? As for that matter, is the ‘society’ supposed to know when I am having sex???
My parents were shocked goes without saying. They hadn’t expected this coming from me. They said I was raised as a good daughter. Hence I wasn’t supposed to have sex before marriage. Again, needless to say, I refuted. Then there emerged a fight, which then resulted with me being shouted at.
Virginity, especially of a girl’s, is highly overrated. Girls are expected to behave in a certain way that again is decided by the ‘society’ around us. Drinking, smoking, drugs and sex apparently is tailor made for men. But if a woman enters the “restricted area”, she is termed as ‘characterless’, while a man is given leverage, only because he is a man, which again is none of his achievements.
While reading more about the same on the net, I read a comment by an activist. She had lived in England for nearly 30 years. And now when she is back in India, she finds India a lot changed and that too for good. She finds that youngsters are more pragmatic and very well aware of what they are indulging into.
I tried to reiterate the same to my parents. I am a 19 year old, legally allowed to indulge in sexual activities. Why then can I not have sex before marriage? Who are the so called “moral police” who decide what I should do in my personal life? What happens in my bedroom is nobody’s business. The “society” has no right to judge me. In fact nobody has the right to judge me. And even if I do indulge in sex, why would I proclaim it?
Moreover, is being a “good’ daughter only about getting married and have sex with a man whom you have never seen in your entire life and your parents point out him to you? And you have no option but to say yes!! Isn’t that a mellowed form of prostitution? The only difference being that it is recognized by the society?
What I cannot fathom is why sex is such a big taboo? Why is marriage seen as the license to have sex? Shouldn’t it be my decision whether I want to indulge in a no-strings attached sex or an emotional love making with a man?