Prayers for a Wildflower

What can I do except write about it? This is all I can do, for now at least.
Let’s do a simple case study.

CHARACTERS:  
The rapist: 
Oh yes it’s a he.
Is extremely horny.
Has a bunch of loser friends who are like him.
Probably watch porn all day? Definitive yes on that.
Maybe has a job. This point as we know, does not matter.

The victim:
Female. That’s all I got.

The police:
Protects the weak, banishes evil, supports the needy, and sorry I have to stop here for fear of death by laughter.

SCENE:
Victim is there. Just simply there.
Rapist/Rapist+buddies spot her. I want the real thing man.

LOCATION:
Any where will do as long we have space to stand and she has her space to, you know.. 

CLIMAX: 
In other news ladies and gentlemen, the rape victim is pregnant. We do not know yet who the father is.
Or worse: rape victim gets married to her captor for child support.

ANALYSIS:
My dear horny Indians, yes you want it. So bad you don’t care where you stick it. Get a wife, do it with it her consensually and STFU. Or pay for it. Do not meander about the streets, look out for the first female and spread your crap into my sisters.

And then behave as if nothing has happened? How? How?
You animal, who gave you the right to be born?

One day, this will be more than a blog. This will be a death sentence for people like you. I will smile and rejoice that your doomsday has finally come.

Till then, I will pray for her. And hope that she can somehow see the light of day, wherever she is.
May your soul rest in peace..

His Heart’s Desire

She daydreamed a lot these days. And she was carrying his baby. He treated her like a queen. But all she wanted was to be with her elder brother. She was also confused most of the time. Sporting an angelic smile, she stopped her mother and asked her lots of questions. But her mother seemed to have no time. And her father was always behind the newspaper. Whom should she ask? All her friends were busy and they never stopped to see her. Somehow, she didn’t find that odd. She suddenly cried out “Mani Anna!” and broke down completely. Her mother filled up a tumbler of water and tried forcing it down her throat. But it tasted very salty and made her want to vomit. She made retching sounds to make her mother understand. But no sound came out and the water was now in her tummy. Oh! How big it had become. So many gifts and bangles. But she had never liked bangles. They reminded her of handcuffs. Jail!
Her mind was starting to wander. Rusty bars, people in white and always shouting. She never understood them. She had a friend there, the fat jolly inspector. But her brother had said that he didn’t like her talking to him. So, she never even said a hello to him when she met him on the streets. She had wanted to ask her brother why, but she kept forgetting.
She suddenly felt the salt and the bile rising in her throat, and ran outside to the backyard. Fields and mountains burst around her and for a moment she felt unsteady. She wanted to hug someone badly and so went to the closest thing she could find, a neem tree. She kissed the lowest branch she could reach and felt a sense of peace. By now, her mother had come out screaming. So she ran, as fast she could with the baby, inside her room and bolted it. She just wanted to be alone! At times like these, just staring at the door made her feel good. She heard thuds and threats but didn’t care.
It was almost 6 o’clock now: her brother would be home any minute. She got up, tidied her dress, combed her hair neatly and opened the window facing the street. She saw a lot of kids playing in the mud. She looked absently at them and wished she was there with them. She suddenly saw him coming and she wanted to shout in happiness. She ran outside and hugged him. He had a frown on his face and all he said was “Get inside.”. She didn’t care and clung onto him. He carried her inside and sat her down. He took some snacks from the kitchen, gave her some and gorged down the rest.
“Anna how was your day?”
“It was good. Little less work than usual.”
“Did you bring anything for me?”
“No ma, I didn’t have any money with me.”
“That’s alright Anna, you want some water?”
“In some time. Where’s Chandran?”
At this point, she got up and said “OK, I’m going to eat something. I’m very hungry.” and smiled at him.
“OK.”

It was almost 2 hours later when Chandran came home. He went into their room.
“Lakshmi, what did you do today?”
“Huh? Why are you asking?”
“I want to know.”
“It was the usual. I befriended the neem today.”
“OK. Can I hug you?”
“No. I’m tired and I want to sleep. Good night.”
4 hours later, she was fast asleep, drooling a little on the pillow. He was up, staring at the moon. The night came down upon him and laughed at him. “How have you still not killed yourself?” it seemed to ask. He had no answer. With what madness he had taken her that night, with the same moon as his witness. With the same fury, she had detached herself from life. She was the angel of the village, the gang leader of the brats, the one who was going to study a lot and change their village into a town. Not anymore, he had taken care of that. The village elders decided what was to be done. She spit on the ground. She wanted to slap him, but didn’t want to touch him. Her parents accepted the whole situation with a calmness she couldn’t comprehend. Her brother spoke for her. It lead to more fights, more tears. She searched for an apology from the universe, a reason as to why it should have happened to her. There was utter silence. Ceremonies happened. Life ran its course on them and gave up on her. He was willing to fight her battles, but she never let him. At some point, she started living her life backwards, becoming more like the child now inside her.
Desire. That was what had burned her life before his eyes. His punishment was to see her like that. They were in two different worlds which had no intersections. He knew that he couldn’t change things, and he didn’t deserve to. All he wanted was the power to obliterate things and events. He was a faceless stranger to her and she brought out a strange phobia of mirrors in him. It was the last thing he thought of before he slept every night.

Where have I disappeared?

Every time I sit down, my thoughts seem to find no other road. A torch to lead the way is there, but its light is too weak. My mind speaks out, shuts out the noise. But it is ever there, present like the sound of the sky. Save me, I scream. I don't care. But its just hard. Not for me. But for the thing itself. Painting a picture with no colours, my life is now a joke. Its vibrant nature quelled by things too worrisome, I call out to my very own cocoon. I have jumped inside my box, nailed myself in. A little hole left to swipe at imaginary insects wanting to keep me company. No fireflies, moths maybe. My quests have merged into one, that which beats my brain. I have become a bubble, bursting at the slightest touch. My throat indicates fever, hopefully a sign of something on its way. I have prayed my prayers, kept my promises, done my duties. I am tired, leave me alone. Give me back my sanity. Give me my life. Kill me. I never wanted to be someone else so bad. I want to be 5 again. I want to play my old stupid games. Where I didn't have a care in the world. Where I was free. Where I had myself for comfort. I had trees around me. I had dirty shoes. I had happiness.

Why bus travel makes me jump with joy

Waiting for a bus seems a harmless enough thing to do. I just have to simply ignore the men looking me up and down, sizing my body up. Visually raping me just because I have something that they don't. Oh, but of course I can't say anything. Because I'm public property after all. It gets worse when I step into the bus. Men brushing against me casually as if their birth right. The funny thing is though the bus has an equal number of men and women, the women don't fall onto the women or the wolves nor do the men fall onto the other men. It's as if we are all a magnet for testosterone. I'm not even that pretty for anyone to give me more than three seconds worth,but it's simply that I'm different in subtle ways.The conductor takes forever to hand over the change resting his hands for however long he pleases.
Then there are things which are so simple but hold the same levels of irritation. I'm not asking that the honourable species who rest their asses to behave like gentlemen and give up their seats for the minority clan. But hell, even though 33% reservation hasn't been fully carried out in buses, 4 seats are reserved for us. You aren't worthy enough to sit there and when I tell you to get up, I don't expect you to look me in the eye and talk like a smart ass. I don't care if you've slogged the whole day. A lot of us have too and its nice to claim the little of the territory that belongs to us. But hey, I'm following the rules. So I must be put behind bars. Frankly, my voice has faded. All I want to do is to castrate you and feed you to the street dogs. Because this land is forbidden. But of course you can't understand that. The logic is too complicated to feed into your pea-sized brain.
I don't want to hear an irritating tune being hummed from your whiskey covered lips, that too when you sit and I'm holding on to dear life. You must at least have the fucking courtesy to get up when a pregnant woman or a grand mother stands near you, instead of pointedly staring at your phone and showing off your worthless ring tones. You shouldn't expect us to ask it, because you're not the bloody king.
Maybe, just maybe if I cover myself up totally, roll myself on excrement and get onto a bus, I could repel the blue bloods. But it's a big maybe. Well, anyway I'm treated like shit, so I thought this would help. Excuses. For being like this. It's not my fault I was born a women, but hey, I didn't ask to make it your business either.
I accept I'm cowardly to not stand up and fight for my voice to be heard. But when I do,you shout me down and no one comes to continue the thread and you're a man after all. And apart from the insults, I'm also given advice. I'm supposedly too forward and too outgoing to make comments like this in public. So I'm asked to shut up and behave a "woman". Whatever the hell that means.
These incidents have at least made me realize the meaning of the expression "be a man". Yes loser, because its so humiliating to be a woman. Its one of the worst insults you can hand out to a man. Because only his manliness makes up his personality. Just like being fair and voluptuous and having smooth skin makes up a woman. Forget about character and other things that old men talked about. Totally not important. I'm truly sorry if I've ever used it in the past.

So to all of you suckers out there, please get a life and don't forget to get lost.