Aathira Jim's Blog, page 5

J - Jaanvi

Legs spreadeagled, hands tied They violate my body with each thrust they makeMy tears and snot fall onto my face The sack over my head makes me thankful That I don't have to see their faces 
In between I black out and this is preferableThough when I gain consciousness It is a burning fire that I feel in between my legsMy body tattered, my soul bruised Death would be a warm welcome if it came knocking
But no, they are not done with me One by one they take their turnsMutilating, degrading me bit by bit I give up screaming after a while My cries only seem to add to their pleasure 
Left to their mercy, they relish the power they have On me and my body; whimpering cries I soil my clothes and my body is filled with grit and bloodTheirs or mine?I close my eyes and think of happier times 
A bickering sister, a loving father, a warm mother Seemingly so detached now The names may change But my story remains the same Tell me, is it foolish of me to think there is hope for me at all?
P.S. I just finished reading this and I'm beyond disturbed still. May the faceless and nameless Jaanvis in our life get justice. 

I - Iman

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A throbbing head. Not even half the day was through and already it was making it impossible to concentrate on anything. A couple of phone calls to be made, the bookmark sticking out from in between the pages of the book lying on the bedside table waiting to be read, a new recipe written down hastily to be tried out but she couldn't find it in her do any of those. 
There are days when nothing goes right and this was one of those. Lacking in inspiration and filled with exhaustion. She switched off her mobile, disconnected from the online world and went to sleep. No, there is no epiphany to this story. No out-of-the-blue realization. Sometimes all you need is a good sleep to clear your head. 

Linking this post to the A to Z Challenge. 

H - Heera

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How is a girl like you going to survive all alone in a foreign country? Don't jump ahead and make conclusions just because of a broken heart. Even if he wasn't the one for you, it doesn't mean that you won't find a nice boy to take care of you...
Take care of her, Heera thought. Why should she wait for somebody else to take care of her? Why sit around waiting when she can go and get her dreams herself? A fresh start was what she had in mind and that's exactly what she did. Packing off and selling all her meager belongings, with just a couple of suitcases of her past life as reminder, she went off to start anew. 
Her name was a synonym for diamond and though she had often found it ironic, this time she made up her mind to shine the brightest. In letting go, she found herself. 

Linking this post to the A to Z Challenge. 

G - Ganga

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Be careful, my Mom warned me I was no longer a little girl Nor was I yet a woman I could no longer wear shorts
The knee length skirts, they had to go tooNo more figure hugging t-shirts My breasts were developing you see You must stay away from temptation 
I followed all these rules rigidlyStill why was I being passed lewd commentsWhile walking down the street?Why the wolf whistles and cat calls?
Weekly once a month I bled and bled Impure, I was brandished by all Confused by a betraying body I turned around me to seek clarity
But again I was told off For wanting to know too muchConcentrate on your studies Half baked things were fed to my ears
Oh Mom, why didn't you tell me the truth Didn't I deserve at least that?Why did I have to learn it the hard way?Why did it have to be through an act of betrayal?
That it was the skinny boy that I didn't even likeShowed me what it was to be a womanThat the things he did to me Made me feel ashamed than desired
Why didn't you tell me that  I would wake up screaming for weeksOr that it would be years before I even begin to heal?And that my body would never be the same ever again
Why didn't you tell me that there were monsters not under the bed But in the corners of our home and street?Was that what the being careful in your warning meant?Who is to blame? Is it me or is it you?

Linking this post to the A to Z Challenge. 

F - Fatima

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She gets up at 5 in the morning, makes breakfast for her two children. She wakes them up afterwards, gets them ready for school before leaving for office herself. At office, she's tied to her desk till 5 in the evening. After office, she goes for evening classes. Education is something that will never be foregone, not at any cost. That is the one thing that she insisted not just upon her kids, but on herself as well. 
By the time she reaches home, she is exhausted to the bone. Some days she gets dinner from outside. And they will be waiting for her and they eat it together, as a family. That's what families did. They stuck with each other through thick and thin, through rain and sunshine. 
Some days they would show her the things they learnt at school in the midst of which she would sometimes doze off only to wake up guiltily when one of them told her to go to bed. She is a single mother. It's not easy most of the days. But the tiny smiles that greeted her at the end of each tedious day made her feel a little less lonely. 

Linking this post to the A to Z Challenge. 

E - Esha

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You compliment me on my smile A smile that touches my eyes I have been toldI carry ahead with my chores, cooking, cleaningI go out with friends during the weekends 
I pretend to listen and sometimes I nod in responseWithout fully hearing what I'm asked You see inside my heart is a dark place A tiny hole that threatens to spill into an abyss 
That hole gapes a little wider each day Taking a part of me with it, eating up my soul bit by bitSome days I can pretend it doesn't exist And carry on my life oblivious to its presence
But the other days, that are growing at an alarming rateIt envelops me like a cold mist, a wet blanket It chokes me in its depths, I want to reach out Cry for help, the few times I dared to I was told to grow up 
Attention seeker, I was branded, It's all in your head I have never raised my voice again since I wear long sleeves, to hide the scars on my wrists With each slit I made I was a step closer to oblivion
They remind me of the crossroads I'm at The ones that I have to face inevitably sooner or later If the choice was in choosing to let go or to carry onWhat would I choose? Did I even have a choice?
You can pour cotton wool over my ears Numb me for a while, get me high on antidepressantsBut this feeling, it never goes away, not fully Until you have to learn to build your life around it
The only ones who offer me solace are the people who have been thereThey are the ones who hold my hand when I sink a little deeperAnother step, another day, they remind me I hold on, try to stay afloat and on some days, I still smile...
P.S. Though I have written this in the form of poetry, that hole, depression is real. Compassion can go a long way to help someone. May the Eshas in our midst find courage and hope despite it all. 

Linking this post to the A to Z Challenge. 

D - Delilah

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I see your eyes on me when I step into a room Criticizing, gazing shamelessly at my curvesI was the one who hid behind shapeless clothesTo hide that extra roll of fat or two 
I'm the one that was made of fun of in school The pathetic fat girl who had no friends Jeers that I took on silently for I was ashamedI was disgusted at the body that was bestowed on me
Not fair, I came home and cried silently You will never know the long hours I spentSticking a finger up my throat to get rid of it allThe guilt I felt each time I gave into temptation
That double burger and crisps that I binged onThe more I ate, the more stressed I got Until it started all over again I was just another sad statistic
I was just another girl who was measured In terms of her Body Mass Index alone The fact that I wrote poetry or was fascinated with literature None of it mattered, neither did it count 
Until one day I realized that pleasing othersWas not my priority, I was more than that I was more than just a figure on a tipping scaleI was a woman, big and proud 
I no longer hide behind unflattering clothesI revel in my body and all that it has to offer My wide hips, my love handles, I love it all I still turn heads when I walk into a room 
But it's my confidence that gets talked of And my ability to weave words out of the blue I smile because they don't even see half of me And neither do I plan to show too
I'm a plus sized woman and proud of it I see women with svelte curves and the perfect hairBut would I swap places with them? With their tiny hearts?I would rather be the woman I am with a bigger heart still...

Linking this post to the A to Z Challenge. 

C - Chandana

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Pa, you have taught me to be strongYou have never stopped me from reaching for my dreamsMa, you have taught me that being gentle is a virtue tooYou gave me hope when I was stuck in a bleak world
But today I see you haggling over dowry The price of my freedom for a happy marriageI see my worth being measured in sovereigns of gold And the market value of property to my name
It seems oddly like tallying of a balance sheet You see me as an asset, but in their eyesI'm nothing but a liability, unless I come decked in jewelsBut even then what after I turn into an overused commodity?
My looks, my dreams, my values seems to mean so little todayWhen I stand in front of those so called prospective groomsAppraising me head to toe, dissecting me with their eyesMy thoughts shrivel up and curl inside with each word they say 
Isn't marriage supposed to be a relationship? One based on mutual trust and respect? Or is it simply another business arrangement?You have both taught me it is so much more
Today, please don't be frantic, for fear of my passing yearsFor the ticking of my biological clock I would rather remain as just the daughter that you both loveThan as the trophy wife who was negotiated on a whim 
Someday maybe I will find someone Someone who will not be bothered by your bank balance Or whether I have mastered the art of making perfect rotis So that even afterwards, I can continue to be who I am today 
Without my dreams turning into dust Without hopes being crushed Where I will be looked at with respect and loveAnd not just as a bejeweled garish clown or fool...

Linking this post to the A to Z Challenge. 

B - Bhairavi

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The first time I saw her, I hardly gave her a second glance. There was nothing special about her, other than the fact that she was older than the rest of the girls. Not that I looked closely at any of them, I was too nervous. As days passed, so did my brazenness. I was a respected office going man by morning but by night you would find me frequenting that shady street. Or more particularly, that house on the corner which was filled with men only at nights. 
Why did I go there? I was not desperate for sex. In fact, I could easily go out on dates and find myself a good girlfriend if I wanted. But I didn't want companionship, neither did I want to open up to another woman. Not after her. Not after Bhairavi. 
Bhairavi. Love of my life. If the tales are to be believed and if there is only one soul mate for each of us, then she was mine. I had loved her for a long time and she had loved me back too. But when it came down to the matter of spending the rest of our lives together, practicalities got in. Pleasing the society was the norm and who were we to rebel? We let each other go. 
The regrets started creeping in slowly. A slip of tongue by a friend. Bhairavi was expecting. She had given birth. A photograph of a proud husband with his arms around her and their child. Her looking back adoringly at him. Then came the rage. Directed towards her, at myself, at life. And finally after many years, came the acceptance. And then, of course, these night visits. 
The woman didn't look like my Bhairavi. In fact, she was the opposite. Where Bhairavi was soft spoken and of gentle demeanor, this one had a crass mouth, wide hips and wild hair. It was later that I found out that she was a mother too. The night I paid for her, I asked her to hold me in her arms. I traced the silver stretch marks on her belly. Like bolts of lightning. She seemed taken back, but said nothing. I didn't want sex from her. I just wanted to be held. And maybe those memories of long back may decide to pay me a visit. 
"Don't you at least want to know my name?" she asked me finally, looking bewildered.  
"Bhairavi..." I whispered in her ears before crushing my face inside her hair. 

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A - Anoushka

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The day is oddly calm, full of sunshine, almost as if it has nothing to do with the darkness that I feel. I get Megha ready for school, she kisses me just before running outside to wait for her school bus. 
"Shall we leave then, if you are ready?" My husband's voice reminds me that it is just another day for him too. The only person who seems to be raging a silent storm inside seems to be me. 
I get ready, choosing the most comfortable of my clothes. As we get in the car and he starts to drive, his hands fumble around and find mine. His eyes though are still fixated on the road. Yes, I have always been proud of the fact that the man I married was one who followed all the rules. No, he definitely wouldn't put others at a risk even if his life depended on it. 
"Anoushka, you do know that we are doing the right thing here... It's not that I don't want another child. But you know how desperately I crave a son. And we really can't afford more than two children, thought we were on the same page there.." His voice drones on as he holds my cold fingers. The warmth from his refuses to seep into mine. 
I, I, I... Everything has to be about him. What about what I want? This is my child too that we are talking about. But no, I have always been the ideal wife; staying at home and taking care of him and our daughter was my sole duty. I for one, was never allowed a voice. Or even if I did speak out, I remained unheard. 
At the hospital, everything proceeds so smoothly that it's ironic. The one time where I wouldn't mind waiting longer, things seems to move with extra precision. I'm told to strip down and don the shapeless disposable hospital gown. They ask me the routine questions. 
How far along am I? That I may feel a slight discomfort in my lower belly as they proceed. That I will be mildly sedated and that the procedure was almost painless. 
What about my heart? I want to ask. Do you have anything to sedate my thoughts? To wipe it all away? It would be absurd to voice these out aloud, of course. So I don't. And it's not their fault in any case. They are just doing their duty, I remind myself. 
But what about yours? A nagging voice inside my head asks. 
They note down seemingly irrelevant things like my weight and blood pressure. The important questions remain unasked and unanswered. I look into their eyes, I see no judgement. This maybe just another day for them. Just another mother and the baby that she's not ready to have. I cringe inwardly at the thought, my baby. I feel like nothing but a butcher as the nurses continued to prick and prod at me. 
I think of my husband waiting outside. He was busy with his phone as I was called inside. He gave me a grim smile and patted my shoulder awkwardly just before I walked in here. Taking in the antiseptic smell and my sterile surroundings, I knew I had to make a choice now or live forever with the knowledge that I did nothing. That is the moment I think that I realized, I couldn't go on with this abortion. I'm already a mother to my two girls. One was in school this moment and the other is growing inside of me. I think a part of me had already left the man I was married to the moment he suggested I do this. 
I sit up and climb out of the hospital bed. My choice is made. 

Linking this post to the A to Z Challenge.