O’ Woman

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I am no social curator to distinguish the disguised norms of the society.

But here facing the wither emotions beneath the glorious of all the preposterous smiles, has certainly camouflaged the entire subsequent idea.

Talking about the infinite questions starting with WHY, WHO, WHOM has jolted me with some irrelevant contexts thereafter. And, who will not be dismayed irrespective of gender idiosyncrasies.

Looking forward to the invincible steps of destiny we still fail to eloquent the entire subject of humanity, I am no God so is not a human having a heartbeat, same as me.

Then who made them the deciders of my destiny, of how I live, whom shall I meet, what to intake and how to lead my entire beautiful life later transformed to a goddamn life?

I am still unaware of the wavering thoughts culminated towards the doctrine of identification. I wonder how happy life rules come into existence.Once asked to follow the established dogma according to caste and creed followed with a general yet specification prone stigma. At times found it horrific and the other charismatic.

The hilarious act of fate.

My bar graph changes by the physiologies.

How to practice the art of patience regardless of bumpy and stinky sticky roads is yet unknown to me.Interestingly it is practiced successfully.

Can it be questioned? If you do, some unusual expressions showered on your way.

 

Another crazy fact which came to me as a turmoil.

 

Worshipped as a goddess and still attacked ruthlessly? Respected or the word manipulated? Am I someone who should take brutally?

I have never realized the basic idea in the first place. Well, who says I can derive them now.

Talking about perspectives, I have not got a prior chance to make a statement,either asked to follow an existing one or charmed to transform according to suitability.

Has it always been such or a recent consequence of realization?
Let’s not tag it a treasure.

Society follows me more than my own shadow, consistently. 24*7 regardless of respective decked up routine. I am never left alone yet suffer from loneliness.

 

Lost in the crowd of cowards and great motivational speakers.

 

Holding back the aggressive tears I heard a huge speech in support of the empowerment of women. A sudden rush of blood landed me near the ground a couple of seconds after.

 

We should respect women” a loud cry from the speaker. The same I saw days back insulting a former actress on his Twitter handle.

 

So we rest in the ideologies of someone having some chronic disease tagged as split personality disorder. What basic rights talked about has acted a myth to me. I am not supposed to question and if dare I become a victim of violence.

Am I only to be considered to put up some fancy messages on social media? Accurately slaughtered with some equal pieces of blown up yet precise paradoxes.
Yes, I fail to understand. Probably it is needed to prove Ignorance a bliss during such an act.

 

Now, the basic hit would end up claiming me a feminist.

 

Oh, fish!
Why am I laid for the categorization?

It came to me as a surprise when some asked me the perception towards Feminism. All lost in freaking thoughts I managed to collect the entire approach with a little query –

 

“Oh! Would it be used for reservation?”

 

Dumbstruck I was. The man must have built an image of my reaction in his mind, not a good one to be specific.

***

Has it always been such or a new wave spoiled thread decorated with categorical beads?To figure how the entire formulation works.

The situation turns haywire providing a disturbing solitude.

I am not here to establish a notion and ask for rights.This one coward act to prove my identityRather worried of the utter false outcast.

Why treated like a queen first and a slave the other. Equality is something I don’t demand with another gender rather from my inhibitions.

Why only to be competed with male denominations. Mere comparisons laid to difficulty in persuasions. A halt of promoting emotional threat. I am good, and I know, idolized I know. Then why shackled in restrictions.

 

Yeah,

A goddess if needed and a princess if persuaded.

 

They think I seek security. Yes, I do without the strangled chains of being ruled.

 

I fear a lot. Diversified thoughts give me those killing beats to surrender and finally, I fail to shoot the curse.

Lost and dignified with stammering hails.

 

Has slavery boycotted or still found in the routes of faked mannerism?

 

Concealed shackles of periodicity!

***

Lately,one disrupted bifurcation I faced again.

The entire clan started talking about my marriage. The selection of groom successfully threw me in proper disgust. How can I study after marriage, Who would look into the household tasks, How could I wear clothes of my choice, Why only I have to move from my paternal house?

 

More than my parents, society worried.

 

My friend got a perfect groom, and I was asked to learn the etiquettes she possesses and carry which would ultimately find me a perfect match, as well.

 

If I get married at 21 desperate, if at 23 obedient, if not till 25… SPOILED!

 

How is it been classified? And nobody to enlighten the entire cult of differentiation.

Well, there are rules and specifications all laid down in the books. Only, to be in books?

I want to know who follows and how?

Marriage has known to be the ultimate destination.

Am I only being considered valuable if married?
Why do people question if I get divorced?
Why am I stared with those penned eyes?

Probably turning bad unintentionally.

 

If I ask for a proper time, I am ignored. If I ignore, I am claimed forcefully.

How can it be justified?

 

Thinking about all the liners in between, I kept struggling with love in each form but never left alone from judgmental stares.

Ahh poor me!

 

Love has acted a bombshell above all. Apparently, a route to love could be paved with diamonds is one notion to be followed, excessively.

I am surprised how lusty and money digger I am tagged at times. Why?

 

The kid in my shouted breaking all the barricades.

The kid in my shouted breaking all the barricades.

 

*I am capable of filling my tummy.*

 

Don’t seduce me with your purchasing power. You set a poor example in front of me.

 

Beholding and looking deep down the lusty eyes of the universe I turned the pages to past. It haunted me even more…

 

To prescribe the entire situation, I am devastated with the acts of my close ones.

 

Yes, I am a woman, and the allegations are not for the male denominations rather the fellow women as well.

My genre made me cry unapologetically. Jealousy is one powerful dagger; Superiority complex is another. Someday or the other we all face it. Why?

The acceptance could never satisfy the juncture but the answer.

So I started questioning for all the little matters.

Do I care who gets irritated? I certainly not. No matter what I learn. I basically *Learn to Discern*.

 

Catastrophic to some genetically proven intelligent mindsets, I have a repeated leftover phrase…
“I feel for you!”

 

How am I competedand distraught without a line of southern dreams!

I know how I thought to make relations out of love with a failure in the end. No matter how much you tend to perceive, you’ll always be awarded a trophy full of mistakes. And there you are apologizing for the least of a crime you committed.

Again, judged!Judged to cross the boundaries, the stated lines of power rated thoughts.

 

Mistakes are a part why am I treated separately?

 

Couldn’t I be loved for who I am without comparisons? Couldn’t I be heard for what I seek without Judgements?
Couldn’t I be asked for what I pursue without examples?
And
Couldn’t I perceive what I hide for the starters?

***

 

After a tingling struggle,

One fine day I decided to start afresh, from that scratch of insanity.

This time rather than my actions, hypocrite society comes to point an eye tagging a villainous action. Finally failed my longing curiosities with a smirk.

The ultimate declaration of separation and pure guilt.

Evil-ish they could be then why not me?

 

Here is a cry, the loudest amongst all the cries,

 

I am me. Let me be me.
Period

 

Swatii Chandak

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