How much do I fear of being Raped?

I had been avoiding this news of an Indian girl being raped –and now she is dead. It was hard but I was avoiding this because I could not even read the pain that girl went through– the word is so terrifying “Gang Rape”!! The word itself gives me goosebumps. But I could not avoid it too–when I read the news– I was like totally devastated, depressed, sad, angry, frustrated, I was trembling and was feeling horribly helpless. How much brutal can a human be? Can they ever realize what they did with that innocent girl? So many thoughts have been hovering in my mind. The dichotomy between Good and Evil, the process of being Evil and the choice of being Evil..

And, now I hear the news of 6 year old being raped? How insane I feel?

While hundreds of thousands of people throng to street in India because they could relate to the same feeling, they felt same pain, the same fear of being raped. Why do our parents always say come home on time, you are a daughter, you should be home on time, you should not go alone out at night? Yes, they fear it too. They fear that their daughters will suffer similar kind of tragedy in life. There is a proverb which my sister repeats time and again — “Din affno, Rat arkako”– (Day is ours and nights are of others). And, I have been a journalist for past four and half years..working during odd hours and especially doing the night duty and returning home late. Didn’t I fear the silent cold road and only few vehicles plying?…Does my working place care that I am scared of driving after 8 PM?? Yet I always drove back home –being scared ! My sister fears even if I am late by 5 minutes…But why? Whats the matter that scares me and her? The thing I don’t want even to think about it or feel it — it is not being robbed –it is being RAPED!!! Continue reading

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Cold

Don’t know why I am feeling so cold…so lone..as I had felt last September….I don’t want to be numb as always…quite and suffering with the pain…No, I don’t want to give pain to others because they don’t deserve it…the most beautiful people in the world..they can’t tolerate it…

Some days can be boring like this…Sweety must be chatting with her friends…as always..or facebooking…but I am here typing don’t know why I opt for this…writing…..Seems like …I am so habituated to my colleagues…to chat and laugh unnecessarily…backbite about Sweety, and a lot of girly gossips….but what if Sweety bans..it here at office.

I prefer imagination to reality. Coleridge has well said “Reality is dark dream”….Yes.. it is a dark dream…I don’t want to dream a dark dream…really it hurts to know..it hurts to realize which I don’t want to..
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Just feelings are coming so much randomly….A romantic movie would be a great heart…touching…a great treat.. Why the hell I am typing these words here ? And why the hell I am fighting with you…? Without any reason…

Like the way I am typing these words here. Like the way something is getting revived….Two words that’s ringing in my head…the warmth that was just for the few golden minutes
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Nothing but for Freedom

Not my personal decision it was but I felt, I personally felt that I was able to breathe after so much long. And I am finally able to stand on my own feet and it feels great that I am able to rebel against whom? Against my own psyche may be this would be right. A sort of silly busyness…of mine which I think is worthless neither that helped me financially nor that gave me a sense of satisfaction. It was and it is right decision of mine because it was my decision. My decision to not to be more burdened. How much I was equal to syspus, nothing but always running, always always in a rush a rush that will give me such tiredness which I hate a lot, which I have hated always. Still I do hate my own busyness because it never gave me freedom. The freedom I had wanted. The freedom I want to achieve.
The time I want to spend with myself. I don’t even have time for my self. My flowing kohl, my uncombed hair and my wacky punk dress up. I am a girl I too may be have desires to be beautiful, to get gorgeous, to chose the best shoe and best dress. But what do I have time for doing so, no that’s why I accept what I am, the way I look, never conscious how much weird. Sometime I feel like I live in my unconscious world. Where I live, where I grow and where I sall die. Living in this unconscious world of self where there is nothing to worry about everything happens in unconscious way and I find it awesome. Because when you are conscious then you will be in pain. Like the consciousness that made Hamlet suicide, like consciousness that made Othello go mad. But what about my own consciousness that made me contemplate.
Yes, a time I was conscious and that time I felt I need time for myself, people I call family, relatives, friends and all. I became conscious about the looks because I look so weird but yet this consciousness of mine didn’t make me feel that I should look like the other gorgeous girls. “Physical Appearance doesn’t count on my behalf, what counts is school of thought and mental capability” , said someone a long time ago.
Yes, I realized that I need to have freedom, yes I need to breathe, nothing but for freedom I am doing this. Freedom that I want and I need. I need to live and cheer for this life is mine and I want my life to be as I like. No pressure, No Boss, No Pressure and No Boss. Me and I , I am me, Sweta and Freedom. An escape, an escape into the Himalayas, the air of freedom for self.
Everyone has right don’t they. To be in freedom. I am in freedom too but still I feel bounded because of the competence in my mind that doesn’t let me be in freedom. The social, cultural and the political competence in my mind that doesn’t let me be in freedom. No, I don’t want to have a freaky freedom. A freaky freedom means umm..no I dont know the definition. I don’t know the defination, but I understand this what a freaky freedom means.
No, I don’t need that freedom but I need a space for myself. A Space for me. Space for Sweta, for living a life that I want, A dream of mine …Space for Sweta.. A life of own, a life full of nature and yes full of technology yes I can’t live without internet hahaha and without my baby bride. This would be too much. But people need technology and I am not the exception. So , I was talking about my space, My life is a space, hey to sustain life I need a space, my space, where I can write, write and write.
Time..where there is no time, my space would be like that where I would not have to run like I am doing like now, where I don’t have to compete with anyone..No hurt no pains no gain no losses, no feelings no sadness no happiness..(when there is happiness there will be sadness ).
A space nothing but for freedom, for my freedom, my space my freedom….my world and my life, my universe..

“Reality Bites” at Gurukul

Contemplated !!!

I am feeling overwhelmed over the reality exposed there at Gurukul of Mithila, Janakpur in the form of a play “Woh Khali Muh dekhi che “where the “Dowry” has its roots deeply rooted in the society. No education too couldnot do anything, what can be done then. I am really contemplated. Few months back there was a news of a woman brutually brunt to death and the problem was dowry. Upto when female shall suffer…Being borned as female is a question now ?

The story is simple but it has exposed the harsh reality and exposed the real face of the society of Mithila, Janakpur. The play is simple about a family who has a daughter,Sita’s father Krishna decides to educate her and she gets the good education too. However a girl needs to get marry, and to marry huge amount of dowry is needed which the family cannot bear. This unbearable amount to be paid and to buy a husband for the daughter makes the father’s mind evil. So, when the daughter comes home saying she is bitten by an snake, father denies to look after her because he wants her to die and it is known by him only. Eventually she dies and play ends in a tragedy.

The human mind exposed in the drama is awesome. The character played by Sita’s father is beautifully potrayed. The emotions and feelings of the actors in the play not only the situation of tearfullness but also at the situation of happiness all are so much beautifully done. All the characters are acted so well that the whole play becomes such an beautiful piece of art. I cried at many times with the actors. The mental breakdown scene of the father is so awesome that I am overwhelmed.

The play thus became one of the best play I have ever seen because of the intensity of the emotions and feelings, the human mind, psychological aspect and condition when the problem related to money comes. The plot, characterisation, cultural potraits, customes,space and time management, human predicament, human sorrows, social parody, everything makes the play such a beautiful piece of art. The play is awesome.

Now, a small commentary over the social malpractices. I question to myself being Sita, Is being borned as a daughter such an sinful act ? Are we educated at last for getting married to a rich guy and then live in the domination forever. How many Sitas die every year, how many Sitas are exploiated as such, how many father loses his conscience as Sitas father, how many Sitas suffer like this.

The play urges for ending such malpractices in the society, so that so many like Sita can live life to the fullest, so that so many houses would not ruin as Sitas and so many father will not feel their daughter as a burden.

Awesome tragedy, it melted my heart. It was nice to see such an wonderful representation of human predicament. The real real reality of our country, our Sitas. Reality certainly bites. I felt a pang in my heart and I felt contemplated to the extent.

P.S. Reality Bites !!!!

And Life’s no more..

I would have loved to mourn on his untimely demise, but I would not do that. A very sweet memory left. How could he die in such an tender age, leaving a family, leaving this beautiful world. I remember Brave New World..a novel which I couldnot read because of its harshness and the realtiy exposed in such a dreadful manner.

Same thing happen as Huxley had imagined around me. Yes The Brave New World..Definitely the things that were fictional are being real. One way or the other people are moving towards it. Why the youngsters ?

I knew him as my big brother, as I used to put Bhai tika in his forehead. Though not related with by blood, we were socially realted as he was “Miit” ( I don’t know what it is called in english ) of my big brother.

I am tearful why writing about him here in this blog. I think this would be a tribute to him. A heartfelt condolence to a dear brother who left for heaven day bvefore yesterday and poor me to hear this sad news of his demise after a day.

I didn’t have any contact with him for years and years but we used to get information about him, that he is in drugs, he is using drugs and he is continually using drugs. And yesterday I hear that he died because of overdose of drugs.

I was shocked but I didn’t felt like mourning..It was a chosen death I believe. Something like a suicide by a slow poison. I wonder if he didn’t knew that drug will take his life like this. I wonder that before him too whether his friends had died or not..yes because of the use of drugs.

Why people chose drug as a escpae ? Why don’t we support them to leave it ? Why a sense of hatred for them for using drugs ? Why don’t we love them ? Why don’t we support them ? Why don’t we care them ? Why don’t we help them to get rid of drugs ? Why we leave them like this that they lose precious life like this? Why government is not taking action against them who traffick drugs?

I am sadden by this untimely demise of my brother..My chest pounds hard. I feel a pang in my heart. It has hurt me unlike anything. I wish I could have been able to see him for the last time, before he was burnt..I wish I could have talked with him for the last time, dear oh dear..I am feeling really bad..m in tears now..I can’t control myself..

And his life is no more…

Please don’t use drugs..Please help those who are into drugs..Please bring them back..all the friends and families..bring them the one who are in drugs..to the normal life..Please don’t hate them..Please I am humbly requesting ..I am humbly requesting..Please helo those who are in drugs..give them more love and care..so that they can again be able to stand.. Let us all help them..let us bring them back…Let us be untied to fight against drugs..Who knows if your brother dies like this..because of drugs..or someone closely related to u..then..

And his life is no more…

May his eternal soul rest in peace…!!!!

P.s Please say no to Drugs..!!!!!