Straight from the Heart!(just a peep into me, not anything social)

Been sometime since I wrote anything from the heart. So, this could be a bit rusty!!

We four were a unit. The children of the eldest two sisters of the four siblings! I was the eldest; my bro and my aunt’s son were next and her girl the last. Sruthi, Sandeep, Sooryan, Deepika. Or… as our parents used to call us to dinner…Sruthi, Manu, Podiyan, Vava. The four names in one breath.

We were always together whenever we met. And that is a lot. It is funny how we change, how our lives change, but how our emotions stay embedded and cherished in our deepest memories.

As time progressed, the number of names in the roll call increased to 5 to 6 and ultimately to 8. Two for each sibling. But, the four remained intact. I was the boss, the queen bee, who ordered around her three soldiers.

When did I realize we were getting older? Older from the girl whose first memory of childhood is seeing blood running down a wound, to a girl who is the only one in her generation in the family to inherit the genetic fear of blood, to the advocate of justice and equality, a hot headed idiot, who simmered and simmered to no effect at all and at last…to a woman who knows how to boil without simmering, sharpened and mellowed by experiences, but the same spirit within. Hmmm…I don’t know! Answerless question, I suppose.

Yes, we all have such questions. I remember the day when we gathered around the grave we had dug for a beautiful butterfly and just cried because it had died. I remember the day when all the fishes Vava had kept died and she buried them one by one and of course, being the most curious one, she would dig up the bodies daily to see if they had decayed. The day when she was chased down the road all the way to her house by a dog. The night when Manu sneaked under the blanket when I told him I saw a robber staring bemused at my attempts to kill a cockroach at the middle off the night (I was staying at their house.). Oh yes, I remember all those days.

As we grew older, the role-play changed. My period (started when I was 10, so we were pretty young.) was the beginning of a new period. It was funny! The rest three wondering why I had to wear my sanitary pads, Podi- my bro, trying to piss on it because mom told him that was what it was for, that it was sort of a diaper for girls (he did get round to knowing the truth without much delay)! Manu waiting so eagerly for his first pubic hair (Grandma told him that was when boys get all the attention. Poor darling! He didn’t realise she was teasing him!). And of course Vava wondering why the hell girls wear bra.

Then came the early teens. Wow, I still remember slapping Podi in public and him running crying! I was a total mess then. Shouting, yelling. My mom used to tell me that I was like a tornado! Phew!

Manu was quiet. Too quiet! But, I hated it when he shot straight past me from his 5’ height to his present 6’4” frame.

Podi’s adolescence was a revelation. He was always the fragile one, being two months premature! He couldn’t understand why his penis suddenly became so big and why he started having wet dreams.

Vava was the ever lovely! She accepted all the changes quite gracefully! Perhaps because she had 3 travelers before her to chart out the journey for her!

And of course, my role changed from the kid to the boss to the confidante! Clearing doubts, listening to their woes, trying to solve their problems for them, reining them and letting them go!

And now….

We were in Manu’s car, returning late from the movies, enroute to dropping off the four other cousins who had come after us, listening to music, Vava multitasking by text messaging her friends and laughing at Podi’s jokes, Manu trying to irritate her! And me…. singing a soft lullaby to my second youngest cousin, three years old, cradled in my arms, his head on my heart, smiling softly in his sleep. He grew up with me playing his second mother. Sometimes he wakes up in the morning crying for me and refuses to go to the kindergarten unless I pick him up from the nursery later. The one who jumped out of bed one morning and announced that ‘Sruthi Chechi’ was ill and demanded to be taken to me. Was I ill? I had accidentally taken an analgesic too strong, which had put me in a strong sedation that my parents were terrified that I would have to be taken to the hospital!

Yes, roles change! I’m glad they do!

The Passive(rape)

‘No’, she cried, her arms gripping the air,
Her eyes, the embers of agony,
She cried.
The gasping mouth, sudden silenced,
A hand over it-
Pressing down!

She screamed,
Till she felt, lungs burst inside.
She hit; she kicked,
Bit into the hand,
That withheld her freedom!

A slap at her face, then another,
Till the strength to fight,
From her, was drained.
Damaged, torn,
Beneath the weight,
She lay!
To chill the spine,
Only a shiver of heartache!

Then at court, at the stand,
No empathy, at her, holds!
Only the critical eyes,
The media torture-
Of a woman who dared exposure,
Exposure of truth!
Abuse, scorn, trauma,
To shame the heartache turns.
She is the crucible!
Her esteem; no claim,
Her life…. her life?
They give her no life,
Only something like it!

Withdraws she,
From the court, from hope,
Her words, unspoken, unheard,
Her pain, unrealized,
Reaches out, none!
Stigma of a stinking society!

Sinking and sunken, she floats,
Aimless,
No seas hold her,
None seeks, none sees,
None looks for her!

Tell me, why this?
Division of gender,
Not born of genes,
Two sexes out of the wild,
One for home, one for hunt,
Thus separated duties!
They changed,
Evolution, the species maker,
Made the hunter strong,
Strong, so strong,
Such basic brutality-
He hunts his mate,
To devour her,
To crucify her,
To pluck out her blessing and
Throw it amongst garbage!

THE CHOICE.

‘For sale, for sale, my heart for sale.’
Cried out, the poor man,
‘Quality heart, no defects, love, compassion, I offer,
Care, concern, feelings, the guarantee,
Till you die, it holds.
Fail, it shall never.
For mine and ours, together, forever!’

A gentle smile, subtle flicker in her eyes-
The passionate disclosure, the dazzling exhibit,
Withheld her awe.

Suddenly, over the breeze, a voice swept up,
Strong and clear; decidedly sharp.
‘For sale, my lady, not a heart, no!
But, life I offer, comforts, wealth.
Not the despicable love,
No paradise of love, just the Avalon of desire,
For me, our life, yours and mine!’

Struck by the glory, the lightning luster,
Of his words, his might; faltered her steps.

‘No’, cried the lover, ‘my love, buy my heart,
Bliss, peace and trust, it treasures.
Fill my soul, complete me,
Buy my heart, cherish the throbs,
For, in every one of them,
You; embedded, inscribed, engraved.’

‘Really?’ Smirked logic, ‘your every breath,
Every heartbeat, will they feed her?
Will they quench her thirst? Clothe her? Shelter her?
My lady, with all regard, hear not, this fool,
Take me, my hand, a hand not to trust, but to keep.’

In her balance, the two offers, she weighed.
Love- beautiful, enchanting,
Yet…not promising.
And I take you, my sense, my wisdom,
As my guide and my shepherd,
To conduct my life in harmony,
For all the pleasures ahead,
Not for my soul, but for my life to be alive.

Innocence lost(article)

A first year student at the School of Medical Education, Kottayam was ragged which led to gang rape, by the third year students of the same institution. She was asked to do frog jumping as part of the ragging and taken into a lab and raped. After the satiation, she was so tired that the rapists had to dress her.
Ours is a society that talks about empowering women and equality of rights, of emancipating the mentally and emotionally drained section, of providing opportunities and of course, it is always ‘Bharat Ma’.

Encroachment
Forget the empowerment and emancipation. We all draw a subconscious circle around us, inside which we do not allow the physical presence of less intimate persons. Encroaching the boundary without our permission is a crime. In a rape, this right is breached in the most inhuman and brutal way possible. The sanctity of our body is tarnished. The basic right of an individual is violated without any justification.
Returning back to the issue at hand, the foremost point to be noted is that the rape happened within the college, which is quite ironically considered the safest sanctuary next to home, during college hours. The sad fact that it was a gang rape adds more to the trauma. This goes even deeper when the Principal, the revered guardian of the students tries to hush up the business. Her rapists packed off the girl, who was staying at the hostel, immediately after the rape. The poor thing fainted in class few days later when her seniors asked the entire class to come to their class for ragging. The anguish grows cavernous when the Principal takes initiative to lock her up in the Psychiatry ward of a hospital. The desperate pressures of the father on the management for action went unheard. Probably due to the fact that he did not have enough money or power to shower.

It goes without saying that I am shell shocked by this tragedy. As a student, I worry that for girls education is becoming an expensive affair, with all the ragging, harassment, rapes and suicides. And very few are blessed with colleges at their doorsteps. In our patriarchal society, girls need all the opportunities they can get, if possible, to be handed over to them.

A dilemma
I have a sister who is ready to go anywhere to learn. I cannot tell her that she cannot jump at the opportunities presented to her, because the world out there is harsh and cruel (at least) to the ‘XY’s. But, I cannot let her go into the murky world, where the big bad wolf lurks in the shadows, and get her back, all battered and torn from her heart to her womb. That is what happens to the carriers. We all get mauled, somewhere.
Women make up half of the nation’s population. Today’s girls are tomorrow’s women. Concealed in them are the Bedis, Roys, Gandhis, Mirzas and many more. If the society, by such villainous acts, creates a minefield under their feet, we are not any different from the people who make their women undergo days of labourpain, bursting their bladders in the process and whom we term as ‘disgustingly inhuman’.


Girls as they grow in our society, find their liberties taken away. Of movement, expression, intellect and sometimes the ultimate honor-the pride of being a woman. The incident is only one of many. Children (girls are children, she was just a child) who are silenced, parents who keep silence for the sake of their children and the ones who silence them. It is a vicious cycle. There is nowhere in this world, a girl, is safe. From the moment of her birth, she is hunted and haunted. Haunted by the horrifying knowledge that she is a female. And when she falls to the ground, struck by the arrows of lust, the hunters pluck out her womb, roast it over the fire of her heart and devour it into the endless precipice of despair. And the carcass left for the vultures on the barren land of social justice.

reservation-my view

No man is born in a caste of his choice. From time immemorial, man has been divided in terms of his colour, caste, creed and sex. The backward classes were ill treated, denied all opportunities, and most of all given a tag of social stigma that stinks everywhere that they go. Time went fast forward, the question is, did the society go at a similar pace.

The 2001 census has not taken any census of the OBCs. But, according to the B.P.Mandal Commission, they form around 52% of the Indian population. Moreover, SC/ST form 25% of the population. So, this becomes not the issue of a handful of people with fewer opportunities, but a national arousal of more than three by fourth of the population.

Let us take a look at the present educational system prevailing till high school. It is not about how sharp a student is. It is about how much the student works to attain a goal. It is about how much coaching and tuition they undergo, to reach their goals. These too without any distractions. How can a student, in a low economic status, still lower social status, who can only think about survival, of how to tide over this life, compete with no distractions, ever-blissful student hood?

The Constitution of India promises the nation equality, irrespective of caste or creed. Then, why reservation?

How can the lame compete against an athlete? On what grounds can they be put on adjacent tracks and asked to run and be equal? The aim of reservation is to make sure of this equality. Reservation is not about enhancing the colour of the already present social tag. It is about making sure that the lame at least walks. By putting backward classes in the mainstream, it ensures that human rights are met.

But, here the criteria of reservation need to be clarified. Reservation was first implemented in Karnataka 50 years back. More than 50 years have gone by. We need to assess the social scenario at this juncture. As time went by, the society changed. It adapted itself to suit the needs of the day. There is a section of the upper class, where there are many bright children, but their poverty stands in their way to higher education. They stand on the same balance with the bright children of backward classes. Similarly, there is a section of the backward communities, which is educationally and culturally emancipated. They stand on the same balance with the upper classes, which have plenty of opportunities and the means to get them.

The ongoing anti-reservation movement asks a question-whether a person who becomes a doctor through reservation can take spur of the moment appropriate decisions concerning a patient on the operating table, whose life depends on those decisions! Reservation does not ensure that people who does not have the skill reaches the operating table. Reservation ensures that if there is any student worthy of higher education, who has been impeded by his/her social, cultural, geographic and economic backgrounds, that student gets an opportunity to get to the top. Its role stops there. The rest is in the hands of the student.

Let us think about the future, if reservation is not implemented. The backward communities will remain as backward, not because they are ‘not fit’ to climb the ladder of progress, but, because the nation will become a monopoly of the already emancipated classes, who will not raise a finger against poverty or injustice but will take any step to ensure that they remain socially superior. Is that what this nation deserves? Think about it.