Sunday, January 20, 2008

Chromosome XX

Dear world,
It’s dark here. I can’t hear much. Just a dull vibe of the ultrasound, maybe. Te fluids about me dance as the machine gages my form. This moment is dense. I ca feel her heartbeat, now, louder than ever. I can feel her pain, now, more than ever. I wish I had a voice to scream. I wish they had ears to hear. I wish all of us could feel.
But it doesn’t matter what I feel. To the world, I am yet, unborn. I am yet, not “alive”. I am just flesh and blood and bones, with life…and with a gender. After today, after the machine speaks its truth, I may never see the world. I might be severed from her and from the nourishment I need. I might be severed from the protection of her body. I might “die”. But as no one yet considers me alive, no one will mourn my death.
Even if I am brought out into the world, for fear of law, society or just someone’s conscience, my fate will not be much different. I will be deprived of food for satisfying a brother’s appetite. I will be deprived of an education to further suppress my being. I will be dominated over and my own defences will be shattered as others invade me. My body, my soul. My voice will be muffled so that a calcified voice can be heard. My strength will be termed a weakness and my wishes left unfulfilled. I will be made to work, without ever being acknowledged. I will be made to cry, without being heard. I will be sold, without receiving a price. I will be ostracized, if I ever dare to live my own life.
I will try and fail to show the world, that “he” is but a part of “her”. He cannot exist without her.
And now, it is growing darker. I feel strangled. I feel suffocated. I see my small world, in a bag, drain away before me. I know this is too soon. I know I can’t survive in this world so soon. I am not ready yet. But no one care. In fact, this is exactly what they wish. They wish to kill me. They wish to have only a son.
It’s coming to an end now, and before me, I see the future. A future, in a world without me. Where only sons exist. Where they cannot find me to torture, to invade. So they are driven to but each other. To vent their frustrations, which they were so used to inflicting on me. There are only the last few of us remaining, and they live a life which doesn’t fit into the definition of the word. Mere objects, being passed on from one son to another. They choose to end their life. And now it’s only him. Only he reigns supreme in the world…alone.
And now there is a stagnating human world. They slowly die out. Without me, they are unable to have a ‘son’. And the world comes to an end because there isn’t any daughter.
As the darkness grows deep, as I suffocate more, I wish to die this death than to live in the man’s world. I choose to leave before I could enter. Because if they cannot give me a life, they do not deserve me.
I refuse to live in this “Man’s world”.
- Chromosome XX

Thursday, January 17, 2008

I'm drinking from my saucer, 'cos my cup has overflowed...

Someone forwarded me this poem. It isn't mine, but I relate to it a lot.

I've never made a fortune,
and its probably too late now.
But I don't worry about that much,
I'm happy anyhow.
As I go along life's way,
I'm reaping more than I sowed.
I'm drinking from my saucer,
'cos my cup has overflowed.

Haven't got a lot of riches,
and sometimes the goings tough.
But i've got loving ones around me and
that makes me rich enough.

I thank god for all his blessings,
and the mercies He's bestowed.
I'm drinking from my saucer,
'cos my cup has overflowed.

I remember when things went wrong,
and my faith wore somewhat thin.
But all at once the dark clouds broke,
and the sun peeped through again.
So Lord, help me not to gripe,
about the tough rows I have hoed.
I'm drinking from my saucer,
'cos my cup has overflowed.

If god gives me strength and courage,
when the way grows steep and rough.
I'll not ask for other blessings,
I'm already blessed enough.
And may I never be too busy,
to help others bear their loads.
Then i'll keep drinking from my saucer,
'cos my cup has overflowed.

Wednesday, January 16, 2008

Stream of Consciousness

"O poor, unthinking human heart! Error will not go away; logic and reason are slow to penetrate. We cling with both arms to false hope, refusing to believe in the weightiest proofs against it, embracing it with all our strength. In the end it escapes, ripping our veins and draining our heart's blood; until, regaining consciousness, we rush to fall into snares of delusion all over again"

Tagore wrote this more than a century ago. But human emotion, our behaviour is quite independent of space, time or context. I don’t think I can ever let go completely. I don’t think anyone can ever let go. Even when you have been used, abused. Sometimes I wonder what authority I have to say this. I haven’t been in a relationship of this sort ever. But over the past few years, seeing the relationships my friends have been in, I wonder whether it is ever possible for me to handle anything of that sort anyway. I don’t know when and I don’t know how, I started taking life very seriously. Frivolous ties are not for me.
In the past six odd months, all I have been hearing of is my friends getting two-timed by their partners. Cheating on someone is just so easy, isn’t it? Was watching the Roadies 5.0 auditions the other day. Their prelim questionnaire had a question- “with the guarantee that you will not be caught, will you cheat on your boyfriend/ girlfriend?” The answers were even more appalling.
When I did an “India Changing” ad campaign, I never really thought of India changing this way. Even though I am a part of the youth and the so-called youth culture, I am finding myself getting old-fashioned and boring for my friends, for their beliefs and though process.
Why is it that when I find smoking and alcohol so repulsive, my own friends think it is “cool” or just an ordinary of their life, and why is it that I cant let go of this fact?
Why can I not let go of my friends even when I want to. When there are these times when I want to be alone, why do I still be with them. When I want my alone time, why is it that I am never able to tell everyone to leave.
Why am I not letting go of those invading me, my space. Why has it become my space? Is it simply because I don’t have anyone to share this space with? Will I ever find that one person?
Its odd isn’t it, the way all of us are just wandering, billions of people all over the world, looking for the one person to share their “alone time” with. I often try to imagine what that time will be like when there is that someone. Maybe it will be tomorrow, years later, never. I don’t really care. But whenever it will be, all I know is that, it will be that or nothing else. When I do something I love, or start loving something I do, I don’t let go easily. I will sit with it. For as long as it takes and mend it. But when I know its beyond repair, it takes me a second, in the bat of an eyelid, I will be gone.
Virgos, they say, are organized clean people. Working with the precision of a surgeon. But somehow, even though I find myself practical and brash, I have often been accused of being rude. Under the pretext of calling me “frank” most people do intend to say that I am rude. Someone once tried predicting my future. She said that I would lose my friends. Slowly, but surely. Sort of just waking up one morning and realizing that you have no friends. And you don’t know where they are. You can’t remember when they left. You don’t know if they will be back. You don’t know if anyone will ever take their place.
That is probably the scariest of all my thoughts. Being in a situation like that. Being lonely. Not alone.
All I can do is pray. Hope that my friends understand that. I hope they don’t leave. I hope they are replaceable, even if they do. I hope there is always someone to cry to. Someone to laugh with. Someone, with whom I can sit in silence.
Silence is something I enjoy. My friends at college find it very weird when I just shut up at times. Sometimes I like to listen rather than talk. Stand still and observe. There are a lot of things you forget. Take for granted. When you are quite, you see all that. All those things that would otherwise have gone unnoticed.
This stream of consciousness has been long. Very long. I don’t even think I will ever read it again. Doesn’t matter. This piece started nowhere and ended nowhere. A sort of a lose straw in the heap. I fragment of information in my brain. What began as I stumbled over a quote I had read a long time ago, led to an entire page full of my mind spilt out on paper, in ink. And now I see myself running out of energy, even if I am not running out of thoughts…