Category: Lines from her diary

  • Adjusting until a version of myself erodes…!

    Adjusting until a version of myself erodes…!

    A submissive mother,
    A intractable father.

    Often were the fights,
    More often they were physical…


    A bruise here,
    A cut there,
    The eyes puffy from crying,
    from under them peeked a reddish-blue bruise,
    haphazardly done, uneven cover-up it seemed…


    But,

    A question remained on my mind…!?


    How did they end up sharing the same bed each night…?


    Writer’s note

    Later, he would end up having his way and being physical with her—
    After that him profusely crying,
    clinging to her bare body,
    like a newborn,
    rubbing his face in her chest,
    And,
    she held him in close,
    until he felt asleep…




    3rd person’s pov

    This became a regular happening,
    he would come home angry—
    angry on someone,
    or something that didn’t went his way
    and,
    in a fit of rage,
    A hand would be raised,
    A loud smack would resonate within these walls-
    Sobbing would be heard later,
    along with them tears would start to flow,
    in a single sweep he would hit her once again,
    telling her to shut up,
    and bring him food…


    Taking the support of the wall,
    or a drawer she would slowly get up,
    but,
    before she could stand on her feet,
    he would get up once again,
    grab her by her shoulder,
    pressing his thumb firm into her joint,
    turning her low-pitched sobs,
    into silent screams with tears,
    due to the extreme amount of pain,
    after that he would throw her,
    into the direction of the kitchen,
    where she would go and heat food for him…


    If it was a little cold or too hot,
    he would throw the chair back,
    yelling at her yet again,
    and those tears would start to roll again,
    sometimes he would throw the plate in her direction,
    not worrying if it were to hit her,
    her arm,
    her face,
    her eyes,
    no matter where it went;


    Often the neighbors heard her—
    her cries of help;


    Initially people would wake up,

    Bang our door late at night, Come to her rescue,

    But now,

    it was such a common happening,
    that they wouldn’t even bother to get up,
    much rather go out and look outside…!


    Every other day screams would be heard,
    Her sobbing and His screaming—

    Terror roamed the house,
    and none was there to stop it,
    stop any of it;


    As soon as he was done eating,
    he would go into the bathroom,
    clean himself up,
    and sit on his side of the bed—


    Scrolling his phone until a faint shadow of her entered the room for a brief moment and then went into the bathroom;


    He would curiously watch her from the side of his eye going into the bathroom,
    then she’d come out with a bucket of clothes,
    which she would take to the terrace to hang them on the ropes that were connected to poles on either side of the rooftop…


    Returning to their room,
    she knew,
    what she would have to do,
    to ease the pain that he had,
    even if she wasn’t to blame at all,
    not even a little bit…;


    On coming down and locking the main entry door,
    then their bedroom door;


    It was a big room,
    but not a spacious one,
    on one wall was a TV,
    in front of it,
    was the bed,

    There was a cabinet that has their essentials, Another cabinet sat in that spacious room that made it even more cramped,

    In it were bottles filled to the brim with color transparent and gold like…!
    Surrounded it was by walls colored in blue,
    A pale blue color,
    flakes of which were peeling off and felling on the floor;


    An effort she made each day to clean them,
    but another scream he roared,
    not to use the broom at night,
    as he snatched it from her hand and told her to get ready soon…


    In a fit of paralyzing fear,
    she hurriedly picked it up,
    and kept it in the corner of the room,
    away from his sight as he found it very unappealing—

    Before coming to bed,
    she hit the light switch off,
    and sat on her side of the bed—

    Before laying down,
    her hand reached up the drawer,
    and from it came a box,
    which had various creams and ointments—


    She stared at the box for a moment,
    because it had a mirror glued on it,
    seeing her bruised up face—
    Remembering a smile that was once her identity,
    Now, none of it was left,
    not even an essence of it,
    as she opened the box—


    Taking out Vaseline for her hands,
    Boroline for her cracked heels,
    and some other over the counter medicine for the bruises,
    which she had an abundance of,
    after a good 15 minute she was ready to lay down,
    but,
    her problems were far from over…


    As soon as she laid down,
    his tantrums started,
    rolling on his side of the bed,
    grunting,
    crushing his teeth,
    all sorts of irritable behaviors,
    But,
    she knew what was coming,
    after 10-15 minutes,
    when all went silent,
    you could hear him panting,
    and after that,
    those short breaths,
    turned into little sobs,
    knowing this was a usual behavior,
    his usual behavior,
    she didn’t instigate him for a couple of minutes…


    After 15-20 minutes passed,
    she held out her hand,
    and placed it on his shoulder,
    knowing,
    he won’t subside until it happens,
    and,
    because she doesn’t want to get hit yet again,
    she starts something she doesn’t like even a single bit of…


    As she pulls herself towards him,
    grabbing his back,
    in an effort to comfort him,
    after being a literal punching bag to him—


    He wanted to be comforted,
    He wanted closure—


    “Look at the audacity,
    look at the situation life put me in…!” She though in her mind…


    First I have to beg for mercy,
    and then please the same person;


    He treats me like a piece of meat,
    uses and then throws me away,
    only to torture me again,
    the next day,


    “Why,
    Why do i have to submit to him…?!

    I thought…


    Maybe, being from a poor background is the cause—


    I don’t have people—
    my people backing me


    I was told to adjust,
    and adjust some more,
    until his comfort was met,
    and mine was ruined till there was none left of it…!


    (The rest will be continued tomorrow…)

    Cheers 🥂

    Love Waakiye 🤍

  • Real life problems here in India…!?

    Real life problems here in India…!?

    Another day of already answered prompts telling me to go into my partially written saved posts…!

    For those who don’t believe here’s the proof that I can provide you…!

    A screenshot with all the prompts answered…!

    If you stay with me, you will be safe…!

    These are the exact words that left his mouth when I told him that I didn’t want to go with him…!


    Set aback I was, before I could say anything as his words once again filled the room…!


    “There are many who are ill mannered who will tease you, belittle you, call you names, maybe touch you inappropriately and what will you do then…?

    Who will you call out to…?

    Who will you look back to for help…?

    Will you cry out for help…?”


    Don’t you think it will be a terrifying experience…?

    And you won’t be able to move or even make a cry of help when something bad happens…!


    You don’t even call it out when you’re surrounded by people you call your own, because you think they’d think of you in the wrong way…!


    And you think you can go alone safely there without me…?



    His words cut deep,

    But they were true, I should have left early and made all of the necessary arrangements before I planned to travel there, even if it were to travel all alone…!


    I know this seems weird, A lot of dependence on a person, But what if I told you it was the absolute truth for me…?


    Last week another girl just like me was picked up by goons as she was going back home from school and she was assaulted and later left on the side of the road(literally to die);

    Until a passer-by recognized her and shouted to attract more people;


    The already distressed parents ran as they weren’t able to lodge a FIR,

    Denied were their basic rights just because the presiding officer assumed that she must have ran away from home due to some tension or stress from her parents…!

    They also brought them shame by telling them to their face and all those around them that,

    She must have ran away from them with her boyfriend and they must have planned to marry each other…!


    As soon as they reached along with other police officers after an already pre decided sum was received by them in a form of bribe and they were looking to pay a part of it to the family to settle the matter;


    They said girl was still alive and confessed the name of the people that were in that car because they belonged to the same town;

    And they loaded her up in their police van instead of an ambulance and drove off towards the hospital…!

    The parents of the girl stood there and after a while they shook themselves to consciousness and found what had happened…!


    They paddled their way to the hospital but their daughter was declared brought dead;

    The parents also died as soon as they heard the news…!


    As the hospital staff decided to change her to remove all of the blood soaked clothes,

    They began the investigation and found conclusive evidence that it was infact a sexual assault and this would;

    Should be a criminal activity;


    But those so called enforcers of justice came empty handed when she was laden into the police jeep and gave up on the drive towards the hospital,

    Or,

    She was deliberately killed on the way to not get a witness testimony…!


    The words still ringing in my mind,

    If you stay with me, you will be safe..!


    Would I ever be safe, until this mentality stays that I need someone to feel safe

    And when I am alone I will—

    I should feel unsafe…


    Only when there’s someone around me I’ll feel safe…!


    Isn’t this mentality broken enough to push women back into the place they worked so hard to crawl out of…!


    Cheers 🥂

    Love Waakiye 🤍

  • Layers of Romance: Emotional Depth in Love and Writing

    Layers of Romance: Emotional Depth in Love and Writing

    Daily writing prompt
    What’s your definition of romantic?

    Hey…

    I hope all of you are doing well…

    What an open-ended question this one is,
    without a context,
    without any relation to how we are supposed to work,
    romanticism in the sense of a literary writing,
    or romantic in a relationship sense…?

    But,
    that’s the cue to work around the topic of this day,
    and we will go ahead anyways…

    My definition of romantic (or romance) in a general sense isn’t clouded by the want to just get in bed with them,
    but,
    to understand them,
    the things that they like,
    the things that they hate,
    the way they grew up,
    and from that understanding,
    what shaped them the way they are,
    or how they respond to an action or a cue,
    which they like or don’t,
    helping me to stay clear off the things that haunted them in their past,
    all the while helping them come to terms with what they were in their past,
    isn’t something that is going to affect their present;

    Also,
    showering them with gifts,
    taking them out on their days off,
    and exploring new places with them,
    as we walk hand in hand,
    traveling with them maybe using the public transport every once in a while,
    and gifting flowers,
    and dropping them home or near it,
    how the relationship is at that point of time…

    See how I didn’t talk about having or getting your physical needs met here,
    because that’s how it is initially,
    taking it slow and knowing that in some cultures,
    things like these take place after marriage,
    and that’s acceptable,
    but,
    when things are forced,
    and they are coerced into doing something that they don’t agree to,
    or like,
    would naturally mean that you’re there only to satiate yourself,
    and then drop her after the sun rises the next day…

    Due to that,
    this path becomes extremely tricky for both,
    where one has to make sure things are mutual and in agreement,
    with proper boundaries set…

    Whereas romanticism in literary sense comes in when things like these are experienced and a person who loves to write pens his real emotions and feelings,
    about how they are truly, madly and deeply in love,
    with the said person,
    to the point they write (Of course in some hidden sense),
    about their love,
    their feelings,
    which can be mutual or one sided,
    but,
    portraying an image in a sense that’s appealing to read,
    and can be experienced by those who are around them,
    without even being in a relationship to call it something that they themselves dream of being in…

    So romantic aspect is much needed in life,
    where a person exposes themselves,
    layer by layer,
    in a sense to a person,
    they intend to spend the foreseeable future with…

    That’s romanticism for me,
    to you…

    Cheers 🥂

    Love Waakiye🤍

    All alone they were,
    After a long time they were finally together,
    There was deep longing in those eyes,
    And a want,
    A need that needed to be expressed,
    But,
    Who would make the first move…?

    The first move,
    After a span of three months,
    These months,
    Akin to years spent apart,
    Seeing only each other,
    And talking like strangers,
    Whenever they had some time on their hands,
    And these hands,
    Waited,
    Waited all of these days,
    Waited these weeks,
    Waited all these Months;

    Now,
    These hands,
    Were in those,
    Where they belonged…

    A bottle of Merlot,
    And two glasses were there,
    A third of the way,
    Maybe a sip was taken,
    Before things took a turn…

    From kissing the back of her hand,
    To her shoulder blade,
    And from there,
    Those pink supple lips,
    He stared at himself,
    Her face tilted,
    Eyes half closed,
    Waiting were these lips,
    For a sweet little kiss..

    A known flavor coated his mouth,
    Her born lippy lip balm,
    The strawberry kind,
    Those eyes; glowing,
    Overflowing with emotions;

    “Cannot tell you how much I waited,
    Waited for this day..”

    As those eyes shined,
    As she stared into his…
  • Understanding Human Instincts: A Day of Reflection

    Understanding Human Instincts: A Day of Reflection

    Daily writing prompt
    What notable things happened today?

    Hey…

    I hope all of you are doing well…

    Well,
    there is nothing notable about today,
    because I’m writing this as fever spikes yet again,
    and,
    my whole body feels like it’s been wringed out like a wet cloth,
    to remove excess water…

    All in,
    I’m spending another day at home,
    feeling extremely tired,
    incapable of moving,
    but,
    here I am writing this at 11:25 am,
    on a hot day of June,
    and its 13th and a Friday…

    The most notable thing that happened today was a conversation,
    with my mom,
    as She sat with me and brought me the morning coffee,
    (For which I’m forever grateful…)

    This wasn’t the usual conversation,
    like how I was feeling,
    or,
    is there something that I needed,
    but,
    we were discussing a scenario…

    “How,
    all of us are hardwired to have the instinct,
    when we are supposed to be fed as a kid,
    (mother’s milk),
    and the science that goes behind it,
    and after that,
    the conversation shifted to Procreation…


    “How it is a natural instinct,”
    even when someone is physically disabled or not mentally sane,
    they still have a wish,
    a yearning to be held,
    touched,
    caressed,
    and their feelings met,
    and to portray them in a way that’s appealing to your s/o,
    or someone you’re seeing…

    And somewhere along the lines the conversation went downhill,
    it shifted to how,
    when those needs aren’t met,
    they’re replaced by violent tendencies,
    where we see,
    woman/girls being 🍇,
    just because they saw someone walking along,
    which seemed an easy target…

    But,
    I interjected,
    that all of the focus and blame has been shifted to the wrong gender ;
    How,
    all of it happens when we tell the female gender to cover themselves up,
    from head to toe,
    and even after that,
    they become victims,
    so
    we are clearly blaming and correcting the wrong gender,
    when a push and an effort is needed to make the change in the mindset of men,
    and when that happens,
    we can start to see a change in the environment that,
    has been corrupted so much.

    Cheers 🥂

    Love Waakiye 🤍

    A cup of coffee,
    and discussions beyond,
    beyond the grasp of timid mindsets,
    where a mother makes a change,
    to introduce to the child,
    a concept that’s widespread yet wrongly understood…

    Over the cup of coffee,
    we discussed,
    the faults within,
    a need to reform the mindset,
    and from that,
    we find,
    the original source of fault…

    “Coddling those,
    whose actions were to be punished…”
    but,
    without a clue,
    the entire blame was shifted,
    to her clothes,
    to her advances,
    to her ignoring
    things that happened in the surroundings,
    and when,
    something horrible happened,
    all of its happening,
    the stalking to,
    her rejecting,
    to his taking it on his image,
    to doing the worst thing possible…

    “All of it,
    Becomes her fault…”
  • कफ़न में ना लौटने की अभिलाषा: एक बेटी का संघर्ष

    कफ़न में ना लौटने की अभिलाषा: एक बेटी का संघर्ष


    कफ़न में आना मंजूर है,

    उस बेटी का,

    जिसको पाल पोस कर बड़ा किया;

    लड़ झगड़ कर ना आए वापस वहां,

    बचपन बीता जहां उसका

    हर बार यही कहा;

    जलील हो एक बार,

    बार बार,

    लाखों बार,

    सांस लेना हर एक पल उस घर में,

    जो लगने लगा अब कैद—खाना;

    ताने सुनने पड़े हर बार,

    कभी छोटी जात को ले कर,

    तोह कभी ना आना पैसे वाले खानदान से;

    कफ़न में आना मंजूर है,

    उस बेटी का,

    जिसको पाल पोस कर बड़ा किया;

    वोह एक बार हाथ उठा दिया जो,

    सहम गई वोह,

    रोती—रोती सोचने पर मजबूर,

    ना किया किसी ने ऐसा उस घर,

    जहां से आई वोह;

    देखने पर कोई निशान नहीं,

    हादसा ऐसा,

    जिसकी कोई चोट नहीं,

    पर दुख और पीड़ा अनंत,

    ना जाने कैसे सहार गई;

    वापस जाने को आज कोई घर नहीं,

    जहां से आई वहां के लिए,

    दरवाजे बंद,

    किसी दुख के मुकाम पर,

    वहा के दरवाजे बंद जहां बिताया बचपन मैने;

    खुश होंगे जरूर,

    खुशी दिखेगी,

    चेहरे पर,

    आँखें भी नम होगी,

    जाऊंगी में वापस जब,

    उस दिन खुश होंगे सभ;

    कफ़न में आना मंजूर है,

    उस बेटी का,

    जिसको पाल पोस कर बड़ा किया;

    तब देखेंगे,

    सब गौर से,

    अरे,

    ये तोह,

    बचपन में इसी घर में तोह खेली ये,

    पर,

    उस पल भी सोच में होऊंगी मैं,

    क्या वोह अमीरी जिसकी कमी थी,

    इस घर भी,

    उस घर भी,

    क्या वोह पाई किसी को,

    या ले गई मैं अपने इस किस्मत की अमीरी अपने साथ;

    उस सफेद में,

    आऊंगी वापस,

    पर आऊंगी लेके चेहरे पर एक मुस्कान,

    क्योंकि,

    दुखी होके,

    किसी का दिल दुखा के,

    लड़ झगड़ के

    आना,

    मना जो है मेरा….।

    A young girl with long dark hair, partially covered by a white cloth, gazes intensely at the camera with a serious expression. She has a small red bindi on her forehead and her skin has warm tones, conveying a deep emotional presence.
    A sense of loss,
    profound,
    filled with grief…

    Every breath taken,
    in a sense,
    to last longer,
    than the last…

    The pain,
    like
    a slow working poison,
    hurting as its traveling to parts different,
    and eats from within the being…

    A sense of doom,
    looms over the person,
    a fear that haunts,
    reminding,
    of the change in dynamics,
    of the responsibilities that were shed,
    once she was given from a home,
    to a house,
    unknown…

    Numerous calls,
    a wish to return,
    A wish to see the faces of those remaining,
    BUT,
    A strict no,
    stood in the way,
    As she breathed,
    drank,
    dabbed herself in poison,
    each day,
    until the blue,
    overcame her,
    and there she lay,
    in a cloth pure white,
    a call was made…

    A call was made,
    that carefree father’s laughter,
    turned into nightmare,
    as tears started to fall,
    the drive was painful,
    The words barely leaving,
    As they saw,
    their daughter,
    or what remained of her,
    in a cloth,
    PURE WHITE…

    Wishing a conversation,
    a last one,
    but,
    unaware of the fact,
    they themselves closed that gate shut….!
  • Chaotic relation between work and home life: A deeper look

    Chaotic relation between work and home life: A deeper look

    Daily writing prompt
    How do you balance work and home life?

    Hey…

    I hope all of you are doing well…

    This prompt feels like a personal attack,
    And I hope it doesn’t feel like to anyone else ever,
    But,
    the nature of the topic chosen this day;
    woosh…

    The existence of two lives feels a foreign concept when you are a business owner,
    you can’t say no to a client,
    even if they call after hours,
    because this can be an opportunity to gain an edge over the competitors,
    who are working hard with a much higher manpower,
    and here we are,
    trying to survive,
    By managing job-work that client brings in,
    also producing our own product,
    ….
    all of this becomes a medley of chaos,
    as I have to prepare the material that we have to work on,
    to get finally paid by the client…

    My work day starts as soon as I close this blog,
    As I get ready to leave for work,
    and my work carries on till 8 -8:30 in the evening,
    and then comes a forty-five-minute drive,
    on a good day 25 minutes,
    and as i am returning home,
    I have to pick up necessities,
    which takes ma an additional half an hour,
    so,
    I’m at home around 9-9:30 Ish in the evening,

    Guess the work and personal life balance…?
    (The cherry on top,
    my working days go on until Sunday,
    and my weekly off is on Monday,
    yes,
    you heard it right,
    Monday,
    When everyone is dragging themselves to work,
    I am chilling at my crib…)

    Would you call this a balanced work and home life…?

    Cheers 🥂

    Love Waakiye 🤍

    The work that goes into work,
    making things work,
    has to take a toll on someone,
    and that becomes me,
    worries about our targets,
    timely delivery,
    and coordinating with those
    who are involved in the process…

    Often I find myself,
    crushed,
    broken beyond repair,
    these clothes are dirty,
    these hands are blacked like metals,
    dust that goes in the air,
    oil smudges here,
    grease stains there,
    but,
    working this life,
    this black life,
    like steel by heating it,
    quenching it to provide strength,
    and then tempering to finally be able to work under pressure…


    This life is a pill,
    that’s hard to swallow,
    and hurts often,
    passing through the esophagus,
    like it has thorns akin to roses,
    but,
    when this tired body hits the bed,
    To take much needed sleep,
    to self it feels like a much deserving break;

    Not far from these are thoughts that haunt,
    when sleep breaks in the night,
    and all the thoughts come at once,
    A haunting…
  • “Iss Chehre Se Muskaan Naa Jaaye”

    Iss chehre se muskaan naa jaaye…!

    Jabh se paaya unhe,

    Jabh sunay woh meri har baat,

    Mere khyaal,

    Mere iss choti se dunya ko chaar chand jo lagaaye…

    Iss chehre se muskaan naa jaaye….!

    Anjaan thay,

    Thokar khaa kar tootay baithe thay,

    Dekhte thay ek doosre ko,

    Kose’tay thay apne aateet ko,

    Mar kar kaat rahe thay apna vartamaan,

    Naa thee ek aache kal kee ummeed,

    Jeen’ay ki aas jo bhula baithe,

    Naa jaane kitna kuch peeche chord aaye;

    Magar aaj,

    Iss chehre se muskaan naa jaaye….!

    Toot ke bikhar’ne par,

    Kisi ko apne paas naa paa kar,

    Dil ko apne aap behlaa-fuslaa kar,

    Naa jaane kitne pal karwaton main gawaa’ye,

    Uss kamre kee deewaro ko raaz maaloom,

    Aur,

    Uss takhiye ko jisme samaaye woh jo mere hisse aaye,

    Par aaj…

    Iss chehre se muskaan naa jaaye….!

    Intezaar,

    Iss dhoop kadak’tee main,

    Thand kee ek lehar banke aaye,

    Jabh bhee unki deed aaye mere aage,

    Chede aaj mujhe meri sakhi’an,

    Naam leke woh ko kareeb mere,

    Gaal surkh laal ho jaaye,

    Pasina aane lagay,

    Chede jabb mujhe meri sakhi’an,

    Subeh aur shaam yaad jabb aaye woh,

    Mujhse raha naa jaaye..

    Iss chehre se muskaan naa jaaye….!

    Aaj milna jo humne,

    Dekhu main apne aap ko,

    Kapde badal badal ke,

    Kisme khoobsurat lagti main,

    Maa baba dono pareshaan,

    Kaise aaj iss chehre par dukh nahi,

    nirasha ka aansh nahi,

    Kaise aaj iss chehre par ek muskaan…?

    Dill-lagi jo hisse aayi mere,

    Kaise iss chehre se muskaan jaaye,

    Ishq,

    jisko bhula baithi thee main,

    Badnaam kar gaya thaa zindagi meri;

    Par aaj,

    Shar-e-aam,

    Main mujh se kahu;

    Pyaar,

    Hisse aaya jo tere,

    Jiss’se samsaar dikhe ek naye rang se:

    Ek naye rang main paaya apne aap ko;

    Khoye jo mere raaz,

    Dil jo mera gaaye jaise ek raag,

    Uss naam,

    Woh jo mere kareeb,

    Uska saaz,

    Toh phir kyo naa ho,

    Iss chehre par ek muskaan…?

    Love Waakiye 🤍