Joan of Arc

Though there is ample evidence

That we were the harvesters, gatherers

While men went hunting and gaming

Maybe we were cave artists too

Though there is an ample evidence

That we did the ground calculations

For ambitious space missions

Carried out fatal experiments

To figure out x rays, radioactivity and

Even the DNA structure

Though there is evidence

That most anonymous writers

Too were women

They were also those wives, sisters, sister in laws and whores

Which gave the world stupendous art

Yet women have been historically ignored

Cast aside, taken for granted

Treated as a doormat 

While men ran their victory laps

As they stood on the podium 

The tray bearers were the women too

There is ample overpowering evidence

That we birthed the entire humanity

Every evil soul who masquerades as saviour

Started life in a mother’s womb

The very female sex whom he ended up

Exploiting, killing and silencing

How did we end up here?

Are we truly the weaker kind?

Or just too kind? Or too conditioned?

Passing on the intergenerational trauma

And patriarchy in equal measures

No wonder we end up being hated a lot

For trading freedom for freedom

That’s the only real deal for us

Be unfree, free, unfree, free

To be or not to be

We truly can’t distinguish between choices

There isn’t any escape route

From this foul role-play

We regale it in and we ace it too!!

After all we just have to call it day

And decide not to give birth

And watch homes and government scramble

With incentives and perks

We can pull off a demographic shift

Yet these imbecile fools

Disrespect and disrobe us

Rape and kill as per their will

There seems to be no end in sight

We are still in the recognition stage

Recognising the inequality

Still debating that patriarchy 

Is the ultimate design

No wonder Joan of Arc

Was called a witch and burnt at stake

Only to be venerated later

As a patron saint and saviour

This game is too old

Can we move to the next level?

We refuse to be recognised in retrospect

We dare you to practice equality

Take those baby steps

Remember we women are good at it

To teach those baby steps

Watch you falter

Give us a chance to make you

A better human or maybe at least a human!!

Photo courtesy: My son, Anuran. This was clicked at Orleans where Joan of Arc led the war to save France.

(Un)Loved

Un)loved

We need to learn to mourn
The passing of the (un)loved
From our lives

These (un)loved ones
They are around us
Unseen and invisible

They simply don’t exist
They go (un)noticed
(Un)cared and (un) acknowledged

These kind invisible people
Actually pass on even before
They are actually dead

We take them so much for granted
We use them as cheerleaders
We need them as doormats

They are so kind
That they never learn to fight
For visibilty or to be seen

They are simply happy
To exist as trees
Or non-being in the house

We don’t even realise
That we have stopped
Noticing them or loving them

And then when the greater evil arrives
Be it war, accident or disease
We regret their actual passing

We make mourning and grief
All about ourselves
The grand spectacle of empathy

Being a Woman

Being a Woman

There is a lump
Stuck in my throat
It can’t be removed
Surgically
It just stays there
Just like the abyss
In my heart or perhaps brain
I keep sinking into
A free fall
With no rock bottom
With no voice
To scream for rescue
Not sure whether
There is a rescue team
As neither my internal abyss
Nor lump in my throat
Is visible or audible
That’s what it is
For most women
I am told
You learn to stay afloat
Put a brave front
And you scream internally
Without letting out a whimper
You accept praises and criticisms
Whatever comes your way
You assume you have a purpose
Or a role
Until you decide to step away
From the roleplays
To realise
You are invisible too
The world never sees you as a person
But rather as a wife or mother or sister
You step away
And you are reduced to a nobody
How liberating is that!!
They care only till you care
You like a fool kept caring
Letting them humiliate
The Law of reciprocity
Is always learnt a hard way
But apply it
Just like everyone does
In every other sphere
You will see
What you hold together
Collapses as a pack of cards
And then you realise
The cards were rigged
With misogyny
To remain as an object or
As a person with lump
In the throat
And Abyss in the heart
To sink without a sound

Step and snap out now
Out of the roleplay
To find your own voice
And your sense of balance
You will be visible
To those who want to see you
Rest do not matter
At least you will be visible
To your damned self

In that damn mirror!

Image courtesy: Anuran Kar Gupta, Physics researcher based in Paris

Shame

Shame

Perhaps it is easy
To violate
A woman’s body
And soul
And then walk with
Head held high
It is all done
To teach a lesson
To create fear

Perhaps it is easy
To plunder the earth
To dig out all
That is worth
And then walk with
Head held high
It is all done
For a profit
To create wealth

Will Earth save itself?
What about women?
Bilkis Bano is silent
Our silence is more deafening

We will rage
For Earth, for Bilkis
Yet they will
Walk free
Reign free

That is how it is
Dont ask why?
It’s reign of the
Shameless and inhuman
Emperor after all parades
In full nakedness and glory

How does one teach shame
To shameless tyrants?

#BilkisBano

Heaven and Hell

Your idea of heaven
Is my idea of hell!
How will we ever reconcile?

You talk of supremacy
I walk with the oppressed
How do we find a middle ground?

You use brute loud force
I sing my songs of protest
Do you ever hear me?

You think might is right
I believe meek too has a right
How do I protect my child?

You are drunk on power
I root for my freedom
How do we avoid the fight?

Dice is definitely loaded
You will win this fight
But still you will lose

You will remember me
At the door of heaven
Your sins
Will be my testimony
Your lies
My truth

The fire you lit to hide your crimes
Will burn down the heaven
Your supremacy is a sham
You have power that is not yours

One day humanity will rise
One day humanity has to rise!





The Blue Door

There is a blue door at end of the road. People say it’s the door to the happiness.  One can hear laughter and songs, but no one is ever seen crossing the threshold. Neighborhood believes that all the peace and happiness has got locked behind the blue door. No one knows who has locked all the joy away but the sadness and anger that is left behind is quite palpable.

As one walks down the road, one can hear screams of the locked lunatic sibling coming from an attic of one house. They say he lost his mind over a girl who was forced to marry someone from her clan. From another house one can hear heart rending lament of a mother whose only child has gone missing. A misogynist cop rants and screams in the other one, ordering his wife and children who tremble with fear. A young girl screams hysterically in the next one whenever she hears a footstep, “They are coming for me. Save me.”

The town has a church, a temple, synagogue and a mosque where prayers are held daily. Everyone prays for peace and prosperity that they think is locked elsewhere behind the Blue door. They all hold each other’s faith in doubt. They all live in constant fear and pride of their gods. They fight and attack each other relentlessly. It feels as though they are compelling their gods to compete in a race to gain the highest glory and power of the land (just like they wanted the children to compete once upon a time). Sadly, they have managed to drive both gods and children away.

After prayers everyone returns to the little hell they have managed to create. The Blue door remains shut forever. In their fight, hatred and bigotry, the town has forgotten that the gods have left key to the door with them – the key that opens only when there is love and kinship.