Some were happy some were sad
But collected them I all
For they all belong to me
To me and who were mine
Be it painful or the other
I have my days attached
And a major part of me
In the cherished moments I had
I lived the moments then
I relive them again
Each day of my life
I breath my moments today
Whats gone cant come back
So enjoy I do what remains
For once more I can have them all
Through my memories – I live the same again.
28 july 97
10.50 PM
Monday, July 28, 1997
Tuesday, March 18, 1997
Untouched horizon
Far I saw and chased
The beautiful scene I saw
Loved it and wanted to be close
And towards it I started to move
No matter how much I covered
The journey seemed to be endless
But still kept moving on
As I had the faith in me
It moved further as I closed
Vanished as I held
And then saw……it do move on t own
Was pushed by people around
No matter how much I tried
I could never get there
As there were many to block the way
….my horizon always remained untouched…..
18 march 97
2.32 AM
The beautiful scene I saw
Loved it and wanted to be close
And towards it I started to move
No matter how much I covered
The journey seemed to be endless
But still kept moving on
As I had the faith in me
It moved further as I closed
Vanished as I held
And then saw……it do move on t own
Was pushed by people around
No matter how much I tried
I could never get there
As there were many to block the way
….my horizon always remained untouched…..
18 march 97
2.32 AM
Friday, March 14, 1997
I Killed the child in me
I grew and learned
From the mistakes I made
Tears taught me
And laugher groomed
Exploring the world
And adjusting in it
I went along and saw
I wasn’t fit enough to be in
Too tender for the cruelty I saw
And sensitive to the truth
I came out and ran far
Away in hope to escape
Here I am a different me
All changed now that you see
Unshaken and strong I stand
As I killed the child in me.
14th March 97
8.37 PM
From the mistakes I made
Tears taught me
And laugher groomed
Exploring the world
And adjusting in it
I went along and saw
I wasn’t fit enough to be in
Too tender for the cruelty I saw
And sensitive to the truth
I came out and ran far
Away in hope to escape
Here I am a different me
All changed now that you see
Unshaken and strong I stand
As I killed the child in me.
14th March 97
8.37 PM
Wednesday, January 10, 1996
My husband - My Parmeshwar - does he really exist????
Today being the 21st century I still preach the orthodox phenomenon “ Pati Parmeshwar hai” (Husband is almightily), yes most of you will laugh at me but this is how it is, I being a so called modern educated girl still live in the golden era of yester years and wait eagerly for “The Day” to come when my prince charming comes riding his horse to take me away in the land of dreams, where in his protection no pain will ever touch me again, to give a perfect fairy tale ending to my life the dialogue …. “ so they lived happily ever after”
Having the feelings of the past decades I have to live here, in today, where suffering is slowly killing all these beautiful feelings in me, fading away the charm of my dream city, my wonderland.
I was 15 when I first realized that it was not easy to be a girl. Coming back from school that day, when from out of no where these three boys appeared on a two wheeler, patted me on my back side and rushed out, leaving me standing all humiliated.
My parents had no answer to the question my tears were asking “what was my fault?” at that time I was too young to know, that my fault lied in my being – “ being a girl” . I also could not understand the worry on their faces, for then I did not realize what they did – it was just the beginning.
Being so young, I forgot that quickly, but as I said, that was the beginning, something of the same kind happened again, before I could react or realize what had happened, the man was gone, leaving me all shaken. I felt like waste on the road, some public property that people passing by could handle (or mishandle) me as they wished. I felt nothing in me belonged to me but to the world, all of me at their disposal, - believe me when I say, I did not sleep for nights, I use to wake up with shivers and kept staring into the darkness of the room, trying to figure out what had actually happened, my mind playing back the scene agian like a flashback in a movie. The fear left a deep affect on me, for days I cried feeling sorry for the girls who get raped, I was disturbed thinking, if I felt this way, can anyone understand the plight of those helpless girls? I tortured myself worrying about them and their miseries, at that time I thought that nothing could then save me from going to the gates of mental asylum.
Well, now when I am in college, I’ve learnt to take it as a part of daily routine, ask any girl coming down of the bus, she can tell you what she suffered, just 5 minutes back, in the bus, the gestures and moves of those frustrated men, they pushing and rubbing their body on us, trying to push their hardness into the back, shoulder, hand …… anywhere, trying to cleverly touch the girl at all the places they lust………no one retaliates, as then she will have to answer many around as to what happened, and what actually happens no girl can speak in public.
Every day I come back home, adding little more to the stock of my hatred towards men, I only hope that I do not start hating them completely , as you know , my God, “ my Parmeshwar” too belongs somewhere in that community.
10 Jan 96 , 3.00 PM
Having the feelings of the past decades I have to live here, in today, where suffering is slowly killing all these beautiful feelings in me, fading away the charm of my dream city, my wonderland.
I was 15 when I first realized that it was not easy to be a girl. Coming back from school that day, when from out of no where these three boys appeared on a two wheeler, patted me on my back side and rushed out, leaving me standing all humiliated.
My parents had no answer to the question my tears were asking “what was my fault?” at that time I was too young to know, that my fault lied in my being – “ being a girl” . I also could not understand the worry on their faces, for then I did not realize what they did – it was just the beginning.
Being so young, I forgot that quickly, but as I said, that was the beginning, something of the same kind happened again, before I could react or realize what had happened, the man was gone, leaving me all shaken. I felt like waste on the road, some public property that people passing by could handle (or mishandle) me as they wished. I felt nothing in me belonged to me but to the world, all of me at their disposal, - believe me when I say, I did not sleep for nights, I use to wake up with shivers and kept staring into the darkness of the room, trying to figure out what had actually happened, my mind playing back the scene agian like a flashback in a movie. The fear left a deep affect on me, for days I cried feeling sorry for the girls who get raped, I was disturbed thinking, if I felt this way, can anyone understand the plight of those helpless girls? I tortured myself worrying about them and their miseries, at that time I thought that nothing could then save me from going to the gates of mental asylum.
Well, now when I am in college, I’ve learnt to take it as a part of daily routine, ask any girl coming down of the bus, she can tell you what she suffered, just 5 minutes back, in the bus, the gestures and moves of those frustrated men, they pushing and rubbing their body on us, trying to push their hardness into the back, shoulder, hand …… anywhere, trying to cleverly touch the girl at all the places they lust………no one retaliates, as then she will have to answer many around as to what happened, and what actually happens no girl can speak in public.
Every day I come back home, adding little more to the stock of my hatred towards men, I only hope that I do not start hating them completely , as you know , my God, “ my Parmeshwar” too belongs somewhere in that community.
10 Jan 96 , 3.00 PM
Monday, January 18, 1993
Time to say Goodbye
We learn to talk
we learn to walk
but could not learn to stop the cry
why couldn't the teachers teach us how to say good bye
teaching of our teachers
friendship of our friend
this small routine life
comes to an end
time is flowing and if will flow
it is us who will have to go
is has to go it has to fly
and now is the time to say goodbye
1993 :)
we learn to walk
but could not learn to stop the cry
why couldn't the teachers teach us how to say good bye
teaching of our teachers
friendship of our friend
this small routine life
comes to an end
time is flowing and if will flow
it is us who will have to go
is has to go it has to fly
and now is the time to say goodbye
1993 :)
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