Wednesday, September 30, 2015

An Inside Dialogue of Ambika from Mahabharata

“You know I was 13 when I was sent to hell. I was someone’s possession won by someone else. I was supposed to be a merry wife. I was a princess of a royal kingdom without any self respect and peace. My sister and I were brave yet gloomy. We were full of agony but always acted as foolish helpless queens. After spending six years in the kingdom, the reason of us being there had gone forever. We were dark widows roaming around in the corridors of that grand territory. We were just a waste there, good for nothing. Soon our dear higher lady thought of us, not as vulnerable widows, but as human bearing equipment. We weren’t there in the abstract thoughts of the higher lady. The king, who abandoned himself in the forest, came as a weapon of mass destruction in my life. He was huge, dreadful and foul and I was silly, feeble and pleasing. I didn’t say no, I didn’t push him away, I didn’t shout or fret. I lay down patient and gave that ogre the liberty to play with me and my belonging. I guess my mind was still the mind of the generous 13 year old Ambika. I blindfolded myself to prevent my sight from burning. That awful human didn’t give a damn to those innocent closed eyes. After he enjoyed the ride of my dry body he very quietly gave me a gift. You think he is sweet right?  The gift of an unwanted child carrying womb. My dear son got the traits of his birth parents, blind like me. Just the difference I was blind on that one dreadful night and he would be blind on all occasions in his life. He would be brave like his father. He would run the clan with pride. The motive of me being there in the kingdom was successfully achieved by the Kaurav family. Until they feared the thought of having a sightless king. My sister became the victim this time, and the dear nomad monster got to play with the little childlike sister of mine.  Why were so we naïve? Why didn’t we revolt for our womanliness? Are we just a calculator used for multiplication? We don’t want to live the life of a mother who would see her unwanted blind son fighting for throne, that throne which destroyed his mother’s life for life. I head towards the place far from this hell. I was 13 when I was sent to the hell.”

About Ambika
In the epic The Mahabharata Ambika is the daughter of Kashya, the King of Kashi, and wife of Vichitravirya, the king of Hastinapura. Along with her sisters she was taken by force by Bhishma from their Swayamvara. Bhishma challenged the assembled Kings and Princes and defeated them. He presented them to Satyavati for marriage to Vichitravirya. Vichitravirya married only Ambika and Ambalika, and refused to marry Amba since she had already given her heart to King Salva. After 6 years Vichitravirya died. Satyavati sent for her first born son, Rishi Veda Vyasa, according to his mother’s wishes, he visited both the wives of Vichitravirya to grant them each a son under the Niyoga system. When Vyasa Ambika, saw his dreadful, forbidding appearance and burning eyes. In her frightened state, she closed her eyes. Hence her son Dhritarashtra, the father of the Kauravas was born blind. Much later Ambika accompanied Satyavati and Ambalika to the forest and ended her life in austerities.

Monday, May 4, 2015

Our Infinity of 365 Days

The relation that we share is fragile,
Easy to break but hard to apart
The structure within is profound,
Tricky to comprehend
When you not around, your shadow clings to mine
And there is nothing that mine could do,
But attract and soon attach.
It’s not an everyday feeling
It’s something I cannot elucidate
Your laughter is whimsical
Your touch is magical
My ecstasy lingers for hours and end
There is mirror I see in you, where I am clear
When I need myself,
I solicit for you more and more
You tingled at first,
Then rushed to my every center
We were happy and pale
Choked by the passion,
Symphony of romance we create
No despair, no glory just pure us
Warped in each other’s arms,
We chatter and chatter and utter everything absurd
In the land of wretchedness, you seize my hand,
Take me on a trip to the world of solace and bliss
You and I fully clad under the pouring rain
Romantically numb, glancing right at each other
…and that’s how it began

Sunday, January 18, 2015

Which Shoe Should I Choose?

My life is in a delima.
No clue what should be done.
No way I can distinguish between the two
But I have to choose one
Destiny showed me both sneaker and heel
But today my foot can only fit in one
I can't balance wearing both of 'em
No one can alter the balance
I want both the designs
But I can't wear both at the same time
Niether can I get more feet
The shoes in the store are attracting me,
Someone says sneakers
Someone says heels
What should I pay for?

Thursday, December 11, 2014

THAT HANGOVER

There had been so many sleepless nights, when I'd wake up after TRYING to attain a sound sleep. Right at 3 am something strikes in my subconscious and I find myself crying and being in a scared state of mind, dreams become nightmares whose occurrence I cannot stop, cannot resist, cannot ignore, cannot face. He comes there, trying to hit me, hold me, pinch me, force me, and suffocate me. I can do nothing but struggle and run and then again fall. But that's just a dream. Dreams come from subconscious. Subconscious mind functions from thoughts from the conscious mind. Do I consciously have such thoughts? When do they occur? From where did I get those thoughts? No one has rapped me, no one has forced me, no one has touched me. Then why? It comes from my background. It comes from knowing day to day stories. It comes from a stare by a random stranger in an isolated place. Did he try to touch me at the metro station or market? Yes he did that's how he is, I remember him so well, he comes in my dreams to him I'm just another girl from the big crowd he tried to touch and on the contrary to me he became the man coming in my dreams. Ever wondered how devastating those nights were to see some stranger controlling me and I'm crying aloud for help. It just didn't stop there, the thought kept trailing me in, out wherever I use to go. I didn't feel safe even inside my own house. Was this normal? In the middle of the night I called my friend so kind was he to listen to me and divert my mind, sing me songs, recites prayers for me and give me a sound sleep. Shared with mom, she got scared and started sleeping with me. But deep within, the thoughts do occur. There is always a fear what might happen to me if I step out and again the incident triggers my mind and I have to think twice before stepping out. Daily forums tell how a five years girl got rapped, how a 50 years woman was molested. How am I suppose to stay fearless? You give us a separate compartment in the metro, thanks a lot for that but what happens once we come out of the CCTV coverage, you can well imagine. The man didn't spare me in a public place, touched me and ran away. What would have happened if I were walking alone in a remote place with no population of the country present except that devil? I would probably occupy a small section in the newspaper and come in the headlines of news channels for a couple of day, ONLY if someone came to rescue me or I go and report my suffering. I am writing this article sitting in my room and wondering what would have happened if was rapped that day. Reading, listening, thinking, about rape leaves a terrible impact on my mind. What about the girls who faced it? What goes through their mind? My mom was worried when I was getting dreams like that and on the other hand the mothers of the rape victims would be perished to see a part of her in pain and trauma. When I see such articles in the newspapers, I flip the page. When I watch news like that, I change the channel. Not because I don’t give a damn about that but because that gives me a hard time to read or hear a brutal story of a woman. All I want to convey from this write up is, it’s not only the sufferer who goes through a difficult phase but also her fellows- The Women and that when a girl experiences a negative touch how she cannot overcome that fear for a long time. The hangover from alcohol gives you one hazy night but this hangover gave many sleepless nights. I have quoted both conclusions from my personal experience and believe you me it’s not easy.

Friday, March 28, 2014

Perfection

The pores on my face
The length of my nose
The dusk in my skin
The lack of proportion on my nails
The spots on my legs
The frizzle in my hair
The burn on my arm
The blocks in my mind
The thoughts in my subconscious
The conflicts with my being
The covers I put
The hyper body language I have
The fun I loose
The crave to be like her
If only, I knew what I am
Her satire becomes a worry for me
Mirror has no answer
Mother gives a false hope
Father shrugs
Brother barely bothers
Sister criticizes
Friends are always unsure
Someone please tell me the definition of perfection?

-Gunit Cour 


Tuesday, January 28, 2014

Silent Mistake

From a stranger,
You became a friend.
We came closer. 
We did what was right 
We had nothing to worry,
Nothing for what we should be sorry.
It was fine for that time,
It wasn't said, it was rather mime.
We could have delayed,
It would have prevented the relayed.
Buzzing around the streets, 
People talk about this in meets. 
We left our body and mind with a mark,
Now everything seems to be dark.
We shall recover this pain,
Not be on loss, rather gain. 


This poem is about lost teenagers who become a victim of the sexual intimacy. They think it gives them pleasure and satisfaction. The question is if they think it’s right, why do they hide about it? They fail to understand that it's not always what your heart tells you to do, thinking practically and logically also counts. The word SEX is not something to flaunt about, it doesn't make you cool if you don’t have it, and it doesn't mean you’re not fit with your peers, sex is a big responsibility. Knowingly or unknowingly adolescents do it and 80 percent of the times it becomes a liability on them for a life time.  News about teenage pregnancy, sexually transmitted diseases (STDs) and aids is the result of teenage sexual intimacy without protection. At the age of making a career, having and healthy school life, following your passions teens are experimenting on themselves. We all have to ring an alarm.


Saturday, January 25, 2014

Fit In

A usage of slang won't harm.
But if it's in habit I must be alarmed.
A glass of wine in hand.
And I must wear some expensive brand.
I have to color my hair.
Or else I won't look good at that fair.
Tattooing my body was painful.
But they said it looked beautiful.
The mark is there.
But now no one bothers to care.
I have the controls of virtual game.
But I gave them the controls of my fame.
I had to change for the best.
Wish I had given all that a rest.
Gucci bag was what I had to carry.
I was forced to believe in live ins rather than marry.
It was pretty dreadful.
But I wonder why no one was pitiful.
I raised all my hope.
True relations became hard to cope.
These are my memories from school.
In the race of becoming cool.
I never realized when I ended up being such a big fool.
Maybe I won the race.
But today I'm not able to show my face.
Face that is painted.
Values and virtues completely fainted.
My only wish was 'just had to fit in',
Not realizing I was being dumped into bin.

-Gunit Cour











An Inside Dialogue of Ambika from Mahabharata

“You know I was 13 when I was sent to hell. I was someone’s possession won by someone else. I was supposed to be a merry wife. I was a pri...