Her saree represented her elegance,
She was the one to walk with confidence.
You tried to grab it all from her,
But it was the ignorance not the allowance.
Her smile represented her attitude,
Just to show her highest altitude.
You tried to kill that to the fullest,
But you were weak against her fortitude.
Her emotions represented her power,
She was as graceful as a dayflower.
You tried to pluck it off from the roots,
But you forgot her strength like a thundershower.
Her walk represented her style,
She was not just extremely fragile.
You tried to rule over her all the time,
But she remained herself than being contractile.
Her eyes represented her sparkle,
She was the one ready to be sprinkle.
You tried to destroy her as much as you could,
But your efforts were nothing only just a freckle❤
“No, we cannot take him in, Sorry.” ,said the receptionist. They all requested, his mother cried, his father begged but no one felt it important to caste an eye upon that case. Doctors came and said, “It’s a serious case, we won’t admit him. Why don’t you prefer anyother hospital, may be they would look forward to it.
As the time was passing by, the condition of the patient was getting worse. His mother was snivelling badly. And as a result 2 hours later his high Blood Pressure resulted into Brain Hemorrhage. When only 1℅ chances were left for him to be alive, the doctors admitted him and started the treatment. But that’s not all, they already told the family beforehand that the lion’s share goes to his death, he won’t return alive.
Now the question arises, Refusal by the doctors for admitting a patient. Isn’t it strange? Why would someone take the bread out of his mouth? Just because it was a critical case, they refused? Secondly, without even examining the patient how can you say that that he’ll die? You studied medical and became a splendid doctor. What for? To leave a person wriggling impatiently? To take a step back from your duties?
After reading this, some of you must have given a thought to these questions and I may sound fake to many of you. But the truth is, it’s a Real Story. 💔
Yes, I cried. I cried because of? Someone I love the most? Nope, because of someone I hate the most. ‘Rapists’, but only for a rape? That’ll be not fair I suppose. A question arises in my mind, Why the one who rapes a girl is only known as a rapist? Why not the one who is involved in eve- teasing is known as a rapist? Ohh, they are to be known as ‘eve teasers’ right? But tell me please, when you hear those irksome comments constantly would you not consider it as a rape? So you say it sounds silly..Ohkay.
When you walk on a road, someone with whom you would never pefer a conversation, passes by and comments on you. When you wear those tight fitting clothes and they give you the most disgusting look that it forces you to check yourself once. When you walk alone in a deserted place and a group of shitty men follow you. When they pass the most scary smile.When in a crowd, they touch you in a wrong way. When someone stands beside you and caste an eye all over your body. When you hear shitty people commenting shitty things but all you can do is ‘ignore’. This all isn’t a crime. Right? Actually, we wait for a crime. And then? Candle March? No one will protect a woman from these horrifying issues but everyone would come to stand holding a candle depicting their love, care and sorrow. People wait for petrifying things to happen. They wait for the naked bodies to get exposed. They actually wait for rape. What’s the use of burning those candles if you cannot stand against the crime beforehand?
And the most astonishing thing is, the one who is involved in eve-teasing is the one who acts as a sole-protector for his own sister. What a wise,equal and kind freedom we’ve achieved after so many years! Wow!
Yesterday, the one who threw acid on a girl was today blaming the sellers after the repetition of the same with her sister. Every single boy is looking for a beautiful girlfriend, a loving mother, a caring sister but no daughters because all these different forms of a woman is found on a tree. Right?
Now you’ll say that I am again giving a lecture on Women and will address me as a ‘feminist’, a typical ‘feminist’. But it’s just that, whenever I am preoccupied with a thought that women are now safe, a rape case comes infront. And if you think I am wrong then just answer my question, “Why these news lists are full of rape cases?” The day when someone will answer “No, they are not” and will actually mean it, will be the day of real freedom.
What I wish? A hell lot of things.. Keeping a sole imagination being a girl is hard but yeah I still have one. I want a day..A day when each and every man experiences the predicaments faced by women so that they couldn’t question us ahead. Starting right from the morning, to get up from the bed suddenly just to check if the bedsheet is red. Spend a day hiding those stains from everybody without anyone letting know that their stomach is paining hard enough to cry a profusion of screams. Moving ahead to their work places by getting dressed up in a way so as to hide their cleavage and checking persistently to ensure that their “garments” are not visible at all. To have that much will-power to tolerate those eerie looks given by the typical *men* and to listen all the shitty comments from any random person passing by. To decide what to wear if you are visiting your relatives because you know they’ll judge you anyway. When your favourite short dress, crop top, shorts and skirts are forbade so that you can maintain some courtesy infront of your *judgmental* society and relatives. To gather courage in order to endure the pain of that *touch* given by your *elder loved ones*. A day when you return late night nd look around for a cab but find some bastards staring at you as if you are their dinner for the night. To look here and there for a help and finally gets into a cab *(may be fortunately)*. As soon as you tell him the destination ,he adjusts the prismatic-rear-view mirror to look at your pale face and admire it in his own *amazing* way. And when you finally think that you have reached your home safely, the society judges your character by the time you arrive home.
So what about a day like that? This is just a small phase.. Try to spend “a” day because spending your whole life in the same way is next to impossible.
Everytime when you look at me,
I want you to go through the world you see.
So many hidden secrets dwell inside ,
Just divulge them out and ask me to override.
Everytime you contemplate your smile,
My world stops right there for a while.
That is the thing which really means a lot,
Yeah! It has a real charm to besot.
Everytime you kiss me gently,
I just go scarlet yet want it frequently.
Then the way you hold my hand,
My heart raises up and gets lost in cloudland.
Everytime you grab me inside your arms,
It feels like I am surrounded by the safest swarms.
You are my start and you are my end,
Everytime I need you because we make a perfect blend.
And..It came to an end. The journey of getting dressed up in the most “hated” yet now most “loving” school uniform and spending six hours in a place where we were conjoined only by our love and “notes” for sure. “Goooooood morning ma’am” to “khade hona pdega kya yr?”, now these will strike our mind only, not our doors anymore.
Yes, I may not miss everyteacher but I’ll surely miss those who always gave us nicknames, those who were no less than our mother, those to whom we tricked by asking our friends to follow us as we move outside with our so called “washroom excuse” . From standing outside our classrooms to making our friends stand without their knowledge, to accompany us. From asking our forward benchers to sit maintaing a particular 90° angle so that we ain’t visible to the teacher while eating and sleeping throughout the lecture. We may not miss those books but will surely miss those late-night before exam talks to ask “Bhai, mn Ni kr rha..Tune kitna pdha?” … Those annual concert practices which helped us to “bunk” anyway. Those “good lunch boxes” expectations from our “bhukkad” friends. Those shared glances with our bestfrnds during the exam. Searching for that “last minute helper” for photocopies of notes or I may say a sometimes a whole notebuk. Those borrowed books from the next class to trick our teachers. Those “bhai Abhi bahar se nikli wo..khidki pe dekhna” …To ..”yr paise leke aana samose khane hai chutti me” ..Will be missed. This all we be missed.
We may not miss the benches but we’ll miss those memories made in that classroom. Those sessions of photographs during cultural events..Those dance dresses..Those musical instruments..Those bunks of lecture in an art room..Those giving a try to every next instrument in music room. Those chalk fights and duster pats..Setting the guard to let us enter and go back..Those “bhai koi bhi pen hai?”, This all will be missed. I know i’ll share the same bond with everyone ahead but those meeting points will be missed..
My school will be missed.
My truely said “second home” will be missed 💔
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