Shared Silence

Words that fester

In recesses of

Restlessness

Aching to find an outlet

Meandering along

to find their way out

Only to retract

Retrace their steps and

Curl back in the womb

Amble their way home

To rest in crevices of our hearts

Nestling in the warmth

Of the comfort

That they didn’t stir

A storm and

Violate sanctity of shared silence

Dealing with change

The lure of a living life as we know it is a trap. A bittersweet one at that. Our feet are so firmly ensconced in familiarity, that we retreat into a mental shell even at the inkling of a slight change or anything out of the ordinary. Anything that forces us to change the rhythm of the mundane and ordinary and shakes out of our stupor is downright uncomfortable. We push it into the  dark recesses of our mind or try our best not to take notice of it at all.

We’re fooling ourselves if we think we can live that way. Cause change is just too stubborn it will chase you, hound you and force you to crawl out of the closet and stare you in the face. Look at you with deep penetrating eyes till you succumb to it.  We can fool ourselves by denying it, escaping change or resisting it. But so strong is its pull that we have no choice but to succumb to its forces. And when we do finally embrace it we can look back and reflect on how it was probably for the best that we changed.

Our ingrained stubbornness, a stick in the mud attitude or the need to put on blinkers when we look at change will not do us any favour. We have to grab the bull by the horns and just let life take its own course.

More than an inspirational piece I wrote this post to make myself less resistant to change. I have forever been slow to adapt and have even retreated into a shell at the sight of a personal or professional influx. But gradually I am trying, albeit trying hard to break down the walls in my head. The walls which hold voices that tell me change is risky, and familiarity is a secure, warm home. I have figured that when you say no to change, you’re saying no to the very essence in life. I have a hard time accepting how people change and evolve too. How easily they move on with life and the business of living. And life has its own way of teaching me that this too is an inherent principle of the business of living. The sooner you accept it, the serener life will be.

The Kiss of Life

Resuscitate dreams

Those turn insipid

And colourless

With touches of time

Restore hope

Buried beneath

Debris of despair

Recreate love

That loses its sheen

With ravages of age

Recreate the sense of wonder

It abandons

Us in humdrum

Of existence

Reclaim parts

Of the soul

You masked to face the world

Unearth the vulnerabilities

You concealed in

The confines of mental walls

Awaken the nomad within

Whose soul got chained to

Dredges of security

Break the chains

you tie your wary soul into

 

Empowered Women and Increasing Divorce Rates – Related?

The chasm only keeps growing and is swallowing up our  relationships. If you’re still wondering what am I referring to here are  the striking  differences between men and women in our society. Archetypical and  biological differences are universal; but what plagues our society is different. The men seem trapped in a time warp and are conditioned to conform, obey, respect traditions and family. They bear the brunt of being caretakers for aging parents, the primary bread-earners, the protective brothers and caring sons. They are forced to put their desires, dreams on the back burner and are expected to fulfill familial duties instead. It might sound rather strange but holds true for so many Indian men ! With the flux in our society the women seem to be evolving rather rapidly compared to men. A woman no longer needs a man to feel secure or for her self esteem; she is comfortable with postponing marriage to pursue her career, she’s emotionally empowered and autonomous and is seldom bogged down by parental expectations. Its only when holy matrimony happens is she expected to transform into a demure coy dutiful woman. This is when trouble starts brewing because more and more Indian women are refusing to fit preconceived notions and are  not very happy with conforming to stereotypical notions of a wife and daughter-in-law. An education, a career and the freedom to move out of the parental fold have all given the Indian woman wings and a voice neither of which she’s willing to clip or thwart in the name of marriage. She demands to be treated like an equal partner and a companion not the servile , subservient secondary member of the average Indian household she once was expected to be.  She isn’t comfortable with putting her career on the backseat for marriage and motherhood.

Her expectations from her marital home and life partner are changing . Which are seldom met thanks to the stick in the mud approach most regular Indian families have. It has a lot to do with the way we rear our sons and daughters.  Sons are conditioned and reared to be dependent emotionally, financially and in every possible way on their families especially their mothers.God forbid if they ever take a stand for their wives or pitch in at home they are labeled as “Joru ke Gulaam” and are mocked at.  They are seldom taught to do their own chores and almost never encouraged to move away from the parental fold to set up an independent home. A stark contrast to the way daughters are raised in our country. They are raised to be educated, independent both emotionally and financially and are carefree; sans any responsibility of their families. They are mobile and flexible in both thought and action.

Courtesy these differences more and more marriages are ending in separation and divorce. Expectations don’t match, tradition and modernity seldom find a common ground. Men  aren’t reared to treat their wives as equals and women are no longer comfortable with juggling both home and career singlehandedly and they’ve become more vocal of their disapproval. The stigma attached with divorce has dissolved and women would rather walk out of an unhappy relationship than take things lying down,

To bridge this gap, we need to sensitize Indian men, to start with we need to start rearing our sons differently. They need to be raised to respect women other than their mothers and sisters. To be more hands-on and proactive at home. They shouldn’t be thwarted emotionally and bogged down by paternal expectations. In the name of tradition and family values we should no longer thwart our children instead give them the space to shape their own lives without judging them. It’s high time that Indian men caught up and kept pace with the women and find some common ground to have more lasting and satisfying relationships.

Stories Scars Speak

The wounds

That once

Festered and

Bled as

If they’d

Never heal

Now have

Turned into

Scars and

Are starting

To peal

They unfold

A narrative

Of their own

Of times

When

We tripped

Slipped

Or walked alone

From

Scars they

Will turn

Into stars

That we’ll

Wear on

Our soul

Cause they

Were our

Bridge to

Becoming whole

Solitary Stride

There

Was a time

When we

Strode

In unison

At an even pace

Somewhere

Down the road

You thought

Life’s a race

You raged

Ahead

I ambled

To keep

Up with you

You were

Possessed

With the urge

I became

Invisible

The shadow

You once knew

Along the

Way I tread

And discovered

Routes unknown

I no longer

Chase you

Cause

I’ve learnt to

Relish this

Path alone

Reflections Or Shadows?

In traces

Of imagination

A parallel

World Of my creation

I was inimitable

And unique

In realm of thought

Alone I could

Conquer

Each emotional

Trough and peak

With wisdom

That sometimes

Experience does bestow

And perception which

Only time allows to grow

I learnt to

To search the soul

And then

Did the bell toll

The more

I fought it through

The more

I became like you

You

And I

Are mirror images

To know

Myself

I need to

Reach you

Build Bridges

They inextricably

Intertwine

These patterns

And knots

Of your

Life and mine

Half a life

Spent struggling

To be the

Unique other

I now

Bask in the comfort

Of being a reflection

Of  you; my mother