Child abuse

Child abuse is the result;
of mistreatment by an adult,
culprit can be a family member, uncle or well being;
and at least here the girl child is not blamed for inadequate clothing,
in fact over half of the children;
are abused in their own den,
it can be physical or sexual;
simply a neglect or emotional,
it is not how bad the mark or injury is;
but its traumatic penetrating the child’s vagina or anus by penis,
it can be oral sex or child prostitution;
rape, yelling, teasing or rejection,
even after ‘child protection act’;
issue of child abuse is still intact,
those who force a child for sexual activities;
should be ready to deal with penalties,
if the child doesn’t tells you and you are unsure;
please try to ask and make efforts once more.

Let us be

In a country where the definition of modesty changes every few kilometre;
there’s still a thread that binds us all together,
we have to counter the stripping vulnerability always,
which we feel with that piercing male gaze,
our natural body and its curves are made to feel;
like an embarrassing outgrowth that puts down our zeal,
our bra strap is made to feel like our dirty secret;
we instantly tucks it in and pretends it never existed,
the one layer of opaque clothing provided by the ‘churidaar’ isn’t enough;
God forbid, someone sees the natural form of the human being, it sucks,
never truly running that race on the sports day with all our heart;
Be’cz our breast can’t look like the forces of nature they are,
slapping scarves onto short-sleeved tops for trains, or worse yet;
spending fifty times the amount of money and time on a cab if we wanna met,
but the men have never once had;
to plan their travel based on their clothes, its glad,
instantly tugging at the neckline of our ‘kurti’ while walking through a dark round;
as men in shirts with the first five buttons popped open asses our moral ground,
we can’t seem to wear or do anything that quite fits the idea of ‘modesty’;
may be the definition is the problem not us, so ‘let us be‘.


The word everyone runs away from;
isn’t something to behave like a storm,
it isn’t meant to hold us back;
or to restrict us in a sack,
it gives us power, the strength of being a women;
the strength to produce a life in our abdomen,
this life giving process is as natural as breathing;
but still period shaming everywhere in the world is streaming,
in India, the subject is such a taboo;
as if it’s a crime in having periods too,
even in a fairly educated middle class family;
women took great pride in following the custom of 5 days isolation willingly,
there’s a separate mattress for the menstruating woman;
even if she touched anything by mistake, some clean water is sprinkled to purify it again,
pursuing any sport or swimming, elders never allow;
all this shaming and the horrendous experience stays with me till now
my little mind decided it was best to hide period,
so, I just didn’t tell anyone the next time I bled,
what exactly happens inside the head of a teenage girl when we period shame her;
we are basically telling her that she and her body is dirty like a beggar,
all the itching, rashes were already a trouble;
now irritation and shaming are also a constant struggle,
I remember mom’s answer to how to buy a pad;
tell a chemist sheepishly, he will wrap it in a BLACK polythene bag,
not many women use cloth pads now;
but then it has to be dried in a dark, dingy place where no one would see it anyhow,
now Women have a HUGE role to play here;
by making periods shame free without any fear.

Opposites attract

Yash and Rita were totally opposite;
Rita was stubborn, Yash was apologist,
Yash wanted to fly high and rise;
but Rita always used to compromise,
Rita was not but Yash was anti-feminist;
and thus they fought a lot over it,
Yash yell a lot in their fight;
While Rita chose to remain quite,
Yash loved dogs and had one named Shadow;
Rita, scared of dogs still wanted one to be named Rambo,
if Yash was proton;
then Rita was electron,
but as the science says;
opposites attract in anyways,
so after every fight they hug tight;
and hence prove the theory right.

Blame game

From son to daughter;
from father to mother;
from brother to sister;
everyone blames one another,
whom to blame whom to not;
when things don’t go our way, we boycott,
the reason why we blame;
really sounds quite lame,
its just that we don’t wanna get ashamed;
so we keep our mischief self contained,
I know it requires guts to accept your mistake;
but please don’t blame others for God’s forsake,
so try to make an apology at least;
rather than blaming and becoming a beast.


Breaking a taboo is extremely objectionable;
and in society, totally unacceptable,
although taboos are many;
one of them is terminating a pregnancy,
another one is alcoholism;
which is in no way less than cannibalism,
many more in the list like infanticide;
or having a pregnant bride,
from urination to menstruation;
from sex selective abortion to defecation,
from belching to slavery;
from spitting to pornography,
not only one or two;
all the above comes under taboo,
no no, the lists not ends here;
there are many more to fear,
inter religion marriage or masturbation;
homosexuality or miscegenation,
an act may be a taboo in one culture;
but not in the other,
now surely and certainly it depends on you;
whether you wanna follow or break the taboo.

An introvert

I love being aloof;
and being introvert is its proof,
yes I am the last to raise my hand;
even after a question that I completely understand,
I prefer not to engage with people;
who seem angry, upset or dual,
generally I don’t initiate even a small talk;
but when needed, anytime I can be a hawk,
although being introvert doesn’t makes me sage;
but still it gives me an added advantage,
like I am less likely to get bored when I am alone;
unlike those who have to loan friends when they don’t have their own,
so I do not make any effort;
to be an extrovert rather I choose to remain an introvert.

Most legal rape!!!

Marital rape, what the fuck;
some parents minds get here stuck,
no seriously, what does that mean;
after marriage, sex is obvious when you lean,
yes its obvious for sure;
but what if one don’t want it any more,
having sex without spouse’s consent;
is same as giving your car yourself a dent,
many of us are dealing with this;
but only a few have courage to overcome with bliss,
so its high time to raise your voice;
having intercourse not as a slavery but as your choice.

The first salary

That priceless moment of first salary;
Yash was having playing with the cutlery,
I guess it was lunch and he called;
when Rita was in office and she got stunned,
stunned becz he asked her for dinner;
but she somehow turned out to be a sinner,
she was worried b’cz her friends had made a plan for outing;
but she wanted to go with Yash as it was his first salary dating;
although she tried to wrap up fast but she was late;
Yash got angry may be this was just fate,
Rita appologized but all went invane;
b’cz Yash replied it was his first salary and would never come again.

Love birds

Rita and Yash;
had a crush,
feelings were more or less same;
and that even reflects in their name,
Yash was five eleven and Rita was five two;
but they both compliment each other like grass and dew,
Rita was moody and often gets stubborn;
but Yash always makes her up b’cz for him she was the only one,
although Yash was also short-tempered and makes Rita cry;
but then Rita always knew that his love for her was never gonna die;
So they never broke up as it was impossible;
still they had many breakups to make their patch ups memorable.

Bro! its my choice

From having love to lingerie;
from showing cleavage to thigh;
whatever I do;
Bro! its my choice.
Yes I am a girl;
not less than a pearl;
but still if I wanna get high;
Bro! its my choice.
24! oh no, its too young to get married;
I just wanna be splendid;
but even if I did;
Bro! its my choice.
What to do, what to not;
wanna look cute, punky or hot;
depends on me, how I wanna rejoice;
b’cz Bro! its my choice.

The day we met

The day we met;
in the past till yet,
everything I remember;
was just a number,
yes it was thirteenth of march;
but the timing was of dinner not of lunch,
my phone rang when scooty was in full speed;
but I stopped as it all was destine-ed,
for few minutes I was without any clue;
yeah, the voice that I heard was of you,
you called for my quest;
and that too for the fest,
from then butterscotch to mountain dew;
left you with money which was few,
but then it was all fun;
you, me and that idiot old men,
although we had many more;
but that really terrified me for sure. 

Mothers day special

Maa, mom, mumma all your names;
are pretty much same,
only you are the one;
who cared for me like none,
I know becoming a mom is a boom;
but it takes a lot to carry a life in your womb,
you have cleaned my pee and shit;
which any other would hate to do it,
even when you are not well enough;
you make all my favourite food stuff,
you taught me how to ride a bicycle;
same as you told me about the menstrual cycle,
this is just a tribute to you mum;
I know reading this will make your eyes numb;
muma you are my first love and will always be;
this is just a piece of love there are many more to see.