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The tyranny of our times

The tyranny of our times

“Woman is not born: she is made. In the making, her humanity is destroyed. She becomes symbol of this, symbol of that: mother of the earth, slut of the universe; but she never becomes herself because it is forbidden for her to do so.”

Andrea Dworkin

I recently read a book called “The Palace of Illusions”

I learned two things.

  1. Our morals have been the cornerstone of society.
  2. Our women have always been the victim of these morals.

Today, I want to talk about sexism.

Our morals and our rules have been a shining beacon to us. A beacon that guides us to prosperity and success.

Our morals are the reason for a rich culture which some of us proudly claim to be better than firangis.

Our morals are the reason for a long-run patriarchal entity.

Well, let’s face it. Our morals are flawed.

Every woman in India is still facing blatant sexism. Either from her parents, boyfriend, boss, friends, husband.

It has become so normal that as this slowly shreds her life; her beliefs and dreams to pieces; she just stares and wonders – What am I doing wrong? What do I do? ; unaware of the tyranny of the times she lives in.

Do You want to see how bad is it?

Here, let me give you some examples:

– She can’t go out late at night because “accha nahi lagta”
– She can study but not too much otherwise, she won’t find a groom as no groom likes an overly qualified wife.
– She has to “adjust” because well, THAT’S HOW IT WORKS.
– She is important but not more than her brother’s career.
– Her education is a waste of money; her marriage is not. Because, “Status”
– She can’t hangout with guys late at night.

Because (Wait for it, it is funny)
1. Some men are assholes.
2. “chaar log” matters more than her.

There’s much more to it than what meets the eye.

I cannot imagine how suffocating it would be for them.

When I read the book; I felt the pain. And I don’t want the women of my life to feel that ever.

A Note for Women:

Fight against this tyranny. You might face your dear ones. But you must do what’s right. Break those chains. Close your eyes. Feel your powers. Feel the wings on your back. Spread them. Burn those who come in your way. Be a rebel if you have to be one. Fly.

Maybe we don’t deserve you. But we need you.

All of you who have faced it. It is time to make it stop. Speak up when your friend faces it. Speak up when your daughter faces it. You must know. She has never been weak. You have never been weak. Don’t settle for the idea of “This is how it works”.

You hold the baton now. I don’t care whether you are a feminist or not. It doesn’t matter if you quietly bear the tyranny.

A Note for Men:

Dear Men, We are better than this. We are better than what they think of us as. “They” are not women. They are the people who still believe in the age-old beliefs. Tell them that we have evolved. Don’t just tell. Let it reflect in your words and actions. Let it become a habit. Tell them we are okay with women who rebel. Women who don’t have just honey dripping off their lips but also blood; the blood of all the people who did her wrong and tried to shun her. Tell them we are okay with women who know how to love themselves and respects themselves as much as they respect you. Tell them that we are okay with women who are fearless. No, we are not okay; we are honored.

And let us make it clear that women dressed in shorts don’t provoke us. Women  who have tattoos don’t provoke us. Let us not make them make us into the demons we are not. Let us tell them that we are better than what they think of us.

The next time you see your mother, your daughter, your wife, your sister, your girlfriend face the blatant sexism; stop them. Revolt against the tyranny.

Because if you don’t; maybe you are not worthy.


Note to self: 

Keep reminding yourself that it is not okay. Just because it has been there for so long; it is not necessarily right. Respect the choices of women in your life and treat them as an equal in truest of senses.



Featured Image background by berlin-arparasites

Something’s Wrong

Something’s Wrong

“What scares you?”
Well, Nothing.
“Then why don’t you be in one?”
Because I don’t want to be in one.
“Something’s wrong with you”

“What happened?”
We broke up.
“Not again, this was the 3rd one”
It just didn’t work out.
“Something’s wrong with you”

“Was she not enough?”
She was perfect.
“Were you not getting laid?”
She was PERFECT, just not my kind of perfect.
“Something’s wrong with you”

*kisses and grabs her*
Kisses back *disgusted*
*scans her all over*
moves back. stops.
*something’s wrong with her*

“Dude, single since 1990?”
Yeah man. choice.
“Accha *but not his choice*”
I think Love is overrated.
“Whatever you say *something’s wrong with him*”

“I think you like boys”
Maybe I do.
“Are you gay?”
Maybe I am.
“uh-huh *he is fucked up!*”

“I Love You”
I Like you.
I don’t think I love you, yet.
“You cheat. you used me”


Well, maybe nothing’s wrong.
Relationships are overrated.
Don’t you think so?

Here’s what modern relationships are about.

I cry, I lie,
I say what I don’t mean,
I try to keep the slate clean,
And as I wipe the kohl,
I say “Let’s try once more”

I fall, I scream,
I swear that is all I dream. 
I keep on going till pain becomes a habit,
I am not but convince myself that I am happier than before,
I say “Let’s try once more”

I clench my fists,
Push her beyond limits,
I break her in parts more than two.
I have come far and I don’t have control over the oar,
But still I say, “Let’s try once more”

You told me you Love Me,
Only if you meant,
But you changed the rules,
You fell for me not my soul,
So I went on and said, “Let’s not”.

This is not a good thing (If you were wondering)
I call them “Pseudo Relationships”.

We crush ourselves over the friction of acceptance and hope that someday we would fit in.

Well, sometimes you don’t.

Do not be in a relationship for the sake of it.

And those of who you are;

Let me break this to you,

For you,

Love is a myth.

But I am 22-year-old guy who writes and has never been in a relationship. So what do I know?
But, maybe I do.

background art by berlin-artparasites


Italics denotes the instances when the author is intervening.

“And beyond the lights, they managed to find what they thought was right. It didn’t matter what was. The End”.. she slammed the book; not in anger but in dismay and murmured ” I want this”.

Like all fictions stories; this one has something uncommon too. I know and therefore you know; that she is not going to find her love. Not here. Not on this planet. And with this and a blanch attempt to at least try and get her whisker of happiness she thinks she deserves, I have to cross the boundaries of time and tear the fabric of reality. Why? Because I can.

She woke up and found herself within something unfamiliar yet soothing. something suffocating and yet liberating. something that she had read in her school books. As she tried to recall she realised this uncanny truth – that however much people say, memories hurt and it has nothing to do with love. how foolish of people: they associate every pain and suffering  as an outcome of love. yes, there it was. “You might feel concussions and nauseating- that is your body trying to cope up with the atmosphere” – 1.0 Life outside Earth. 

At this point of time, you might feel the urge to count it as a fairytale and skips a few lines. Be my guest, but you might lose the gushy part. 

There it was. Her dream. Well, not dream. Something that will bring her close to it. What was her dream? Well, of course, wait, not love. why would you think love? It was plentitude. It was completeness. Her life had been always like that. Whatever made her happy was the reason for pain. She was a breathing paradox. But aren’t we all?

Now I am telling you with utmost sincerity that at this place; this planet she will find that. What she looks for. But it won’t be easy. Never is. How else would it be worth all of this? 

As she sat there on the grey sand; She felt light. Life is funny. We try to find meaning in every little thing. This was the gravity. But of course she thought it was a sign. She laid there for hours, not that she was lazy but she was tired from all the hope. And as she fell asleep looking at the distant planet- painted in green and blue; as she looked at the starry night she slept with the thought that indeed the night was more beautiful than what Van Gogh made it and that however far our imagination might go it will always fall short to the horizons.

Little did she know that her encounter with him would be so, so ordinary. It would not be right out from a fairy tale nor like a damsel in distress. We have this picture made in mind – “How it is supposed to be”. We twist and turn and make every vicious plan to align ourself with that idea. And the truth is; THAT is why truth hurts so much. She opened her eyes to find a blurry figure staring back at her.

You know how they say love at first sight? Personally, I think it is bullshit but I am supposed to be romantic? so yeah. It was one of those moments. She could see her future. Perfectly clear. Like seeing through an hourglass and clearly see how beautifully their her life is going to unfold.

If only what she thought; what she dreamt of; what she saw through all the suffering; what kept her afloat; what kept her sane; what kept her alive, was true.

Truth be told? He Left.
The truth is; as much as she doesn’t believe in destiny, Well she believes but I don’t, it is true. every chapter; every lives, entangled with what they call “fate” has a destiny. And oh god, destiny is a sad little soul.

It just wasn’t to be.

And now what does she do?
She hopes. She dies everyday and yet stays alive. I know it is fucked up. But in my defense, it is my story.  That is how she remains.

This story is never going to end. Nor will it die. It will just remain. As it is. Here. Forever.
To remind you that good thing and also unfortunate things never end. You just make them into something else. A feeling. A thought. A poorly constructed monologue. A drunk speech. Tears. and sometimes; the reason of death. But her end is not near. Neither is yours.

So search. Him. Her. Till you see them. And when you do,

Don’t. Let. Go.

Art Courtesy: berlin-artparasites

Untitled – I

I swear I was holding my breath as long as I could,
I feared I would mess it all up.
The moment.
This moment which has been described in so many books and songs and yet I could not see it coming.
This moment which lasted longer than the end of the horizon.
This moment which shone brighter than a thousand suns.
I dare not give out a gasp as it would wither that fragile skin of yours.
I dare not breathe.
I knew it would be the end of me.
And yet I wanted to stay as close to you as I could,
And as I turned red and tears rolled from my eyes,
I finally figured why lovers died over love.
Indeed, they weren’t so naive.
They were just drunk.
Drunk on the idea that love could heal.
Even death.

Meant to be

You know how they say,

“If it’s not meant to be it’s not meant to be”.

It’s bullshit.

I still remember that day.
As clear as you remember your first kiss, an infant her mother’s touch and like we remember the smell of the fresh soil of the first rain; like it was yesterday.

Like every protagonist’s right and a duty if I may say; I just HAD to screw things up.

But oh wasn’t she beautiful.

I was there, near this café that had just opened. Had the word around that they served wonderful tea. “Tea-sra Jahan” they called it; quite a witty name if you ask me.

Anyway, so there I was with my friends for two reasons

a. I was bored and my friends wanted to have their Chai-Sutta Episodes

b. It was near HL.

I would be lying if I said that the second reason in no way outweighed the first one.

Just as I was sipping tea; one sip at a time; happy to have that taste of pure ecstasy but sad that it will be over soon. Quite like life and all other pleasures eh?

Yeah, I am a little dramatic that way.

And suddenly everything turned; as if the world had added a Valencia Filter. A bright stroke of yellow walking; brushing her hair off her forehead, walk like she didn’t belong here; in this cruel dark world.

I just stared. Beads of perspiration rolling from my neck as I pondered.

You all know how guys look at girls and I do too but I said to myself,

THIS is different.

It is such a cliché; the “love at first sight”
But oh boy, wasn’t it true!

There she was walking right past me us, but they don’t matter do they?

For they weren’t feeling the same way I felt. Blood gushing through my veins. Flames in my eyes. Finally relating to that lyrics you loved but never understood. “My head’s underwater but I am breathing fire” and all of this in one moment. One infinitesimally small moment that lasted right about a lifetime.

That one moment when our eyes met.
To that very instant, I almost gasped nay screamed but only within

“Eye contact is a dangerous thing but oh so lovely”

I think it was meant to be.
Not us falling for each other. Maybe it wasn’t.


But, Me falling for her?
It felt as true as a bird meant to fly
A fish meant to swim
A poet meant to write

It would have been a sheer tragedy if these things wouldn’t have happened.

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