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Posts Tagged ‘postaday’

Sin of Being Pure

October 21, 2013 13 comments

Rape. Domestic Violence. Physical & Mental Harassment.
Biased Moralities. Prejudiced Priorities. Unwanted Principles.

The following poem is an attempt to express the feelings of a woman in pain by just being a part of our society.

No mirrors tell my story
None paint the pain I drown and die every moment in
Time doesn’t stop to know my part of the death
Introductions rot with a din 

I search for heartbeats
In battered pieces of flesh, once they had a soul
Bleeding tears of carrying your disgrace upon me
A dead one with a silent yowl 

Loathe me with all you’ve got
Bring all the profane grumblings, unprejudiced or unsure
I’m left with slayed dreams, you took all that was me
My only sin was of being pure

 

Being Her

September 10, 2013 19 comments

Women around us, in our societies, in our workplaces and even in our homes get treated in a demeaning manner.

Do we seek to make a better world without giving respect to our ladies ?

Broken flutes orchestrate a perfect symphony.
A tattered shroud masks the sorrows untamed.
Flowerets shiver in the cold sun masked by smoke.
For her conspicuous dreams – is she to be blamed?

Daubing her skin away from the acidic prejudice
and the sightless hunger for the innocence of her kind.
She works in a yard with the prominent in prey 
as the quivering worth of a woman goes to the blind.

With a muted applause from her callous apprentices,
she carries bouquets of smiles covering her sores.
Alive in her own story of a life beyond the tale.
She hides our guiltless shame beneath her toes.

Love Won’t Let Us Give Up

August 12, 2013 12 comments

 

Chasing smeared promises

of an armistice in this commotion

I fought blankness in my words

and the ease in giving up crept inside, somehow.

 

Living on a boat, stuck in a frozen lake.

Conversing with the emptiness in my ears.

I saw mammoth towers of strength sink quietly.

I saw power of existence give way to reality.

 

Still, there was a willingness in my dreams

and a last leaf of hope you had given me once.

Holding on to the doors of a personal connotation

was this last verse, waiting,  for me to still write.

 

Yes, I believed in the “me” you once told me about.      

I remembered when you said

that if there would ever be a forever,

you and I would be still in love.

 

So, I jumped into this tomblike dark space

and brought the fight to the moments of despair.

They wounded me with their blessed corruptness

and I choked the last bit of air out of them.

 

Then you came and carried away

my scarred cradle of skin in your prayers.

When I thought it was all done

and the senses of my clock were half seized.

I woke up in your arms.

I woke up at home.

 

 

They Know ME By A Name

July 10, 2013 9 comments

 

They talk about me

after they have torn my heart

and set it ablaze.

Yes, I am the humanity

you find butchered on the streets

 

They painted pictures of me

and cried in prayers

as they celebrated faith.

Yes, I am the God

you kill in the name of.

 

They wrote songs on me

as I was penultimate treasure

for defining the existence of all.

Yes, I am the peace

you trade for the glitter in your pockets.

 

They know me by a name.

A name not known to me.

 

 

What Happened ? Life Happened !!!

May 24, 2013 13 comments

 

My Dear Blog

 

You know that I love you and you know that I know how neglected you must be feeling nowadays as I have not been visiting your adobe frequently like I used to.

 

You and I have a relationship where there are no compulsions on explaining things or standards to be followed. You have always given me whatever I longed for and in return, never asked for anything. This makes you more and more special everyday.

 

No, I have not found a new love. Life has happened. Daughters are growing and their sweet little talks keep me spellbound for most of the day. After a long time and hardwork, opportunity has finally come calling for my dear wife and I need to support her throughout this.

 

You are and will remain the reflection of my conscience and inner strength. Just remember – I am being with myself and would return as soon as I can.

 

Happy Blogging ! 

 

I  LOVE  MY  BLOG

 

Owing A Bit Of Life

April 29, 2013 7 comments

 

He was hardly breathing when we reached our medical aid post. Youngest in our team, Sepoy Rajender volunteered to be the Scout number two of our leading platoon that night.

No matter how hard you train, the very instance it happens, you can never predetermine how your body and emotions would react. Everything happened so fast that night. It started with the initiation of a trip flare and ended up with us overwhelming and bringing down two insurgents. Sepoy Rajender received a bullet wound that grazed his neck opening a big gash. The nursing assistant did whatever he could and we carried Rajender’s body five miles across the jungle to reach the nearest helipad. It was a long night.

——————————————————————————————————————–

I woke up in the middle of night with an excruciating amount of pain slashing inside my left wrist. I felt as if I dreamt of the bleeding body of Rajender and that it woke me up. But no, it was not the reality or the guilt. It was plain and simple pain. It started the night we got ambushed. While taking cover, I fell hard on my left hand. It was numb when I lifted Rajender for five miles. It was numb every now and then after that incident. Perhaps, it was the curse which I had to live with. Perhaps, it was my sacrifice.

But for me – this pain had a name. My condition of numbness in my fingers and lingering pain in the wrist was diagnosed as “Carpal Tunnel Syndrome”. What had really caused it was never a reason for me to find. A decorated soldier with nothing more to prove, I had the option to call it a day and go for a table job at staff headquarters. But I had a debt – a debt I can only pay in the field.       

When I checked in at the Apollo Hospital, Delhi I was told that the reason for the numbness, sometimes burning sensation and pain was due to the median nerve getting compressed at the wrist.

The doctor had the Durkan test  and the Phalen’s maneuver performed in the next two days. On a scale of ten my condition was kissing seven. I was oriented with my condition in a detailed sitting and politely informed that due to the quantifiable confirmation of median nerve de-nervation an early surgery was recommended.

Surgeries and the poignant pessimism of the human mind !

It was my call. The carpal tunnel surgery was performed under local anesthesia by a team of three doctors. I was awake throughout the procedure and it took exactly twenty five minutes before I was rolled out of the operation theatre. Wide awake.

After eight weeks of physiotherapy and a couple of visits back at the Apollo, I went back to my battalion in the field area. The very first person to come and greet me was Sepoy Rajender of my platoon.

Whatever happens in life, it always encourages making you stronger. But there would always be instances where you would look back and thank a couple of hardworking people who made the difference.

I am a soldier…and I owe a lot to an institution known as Apollo Hospitals.

 

(This story is my entry for “How does Modern Healthcare touch lives?” contest.

Click http://www.apollohospitals.com/cutting-edge.php for more info)

  

 

 

 

No Love Without My Soul

April 20, 2013 13 comments

 

As the cold winter night approached, the gruesome battle between the two armies came to an end. Battered bodies of hundreds of soldiers lying everywhere. Some still breathing and some long dead.

 

A young soldier – badly wounded and profusely bleeding was searching for something in his torn pockets with his broken hand. He took out a small silver bracelet with two little hearts – one blue and one pink – from his bullet ridden uniform.

 

The bracelet was given to him by his wife whom he had married just three months back before the war broke up. The young soldier kissed the bracelet and remembered her beautiful face. He was sad that perhaps he would never see her again.

 

Just then an angel appeared in front of him. The angel asked the young soldier, “You fought bravely as you had sworn. But you promised someone to come back too. How are you going to keep your promise now?”

 

The young soldier had no answer.

 

“I will give you a new life. You can go back to your wife and have a life you had promised her. But I need to take your soul with me. Your body and life would be spared. Do you want this, O! young soldier.”

 

“What would I do with a life without the only thing that completes my love, “replied the soldier. “I have loved my wife with my soul only.”

 

….and the young soldier closed his eyes…in peace…and still in love.