Tag Archives: daily prompts

Bra


​I wear a bra that delights their sight and troubles me more

A bra that tortures and imprison my chest

A bra necessary to provide a shape.

I wear a bra that focuses my feminity ,my cleavage

A bra that locks the first layer of a female skin

A bra that channelises a mother’s love to every child after birth…..

But I wear a bra that has suffered every dark roads, sometimes inside the safe home

Yes! We wear a bra that they wish to unlock.

A bra that dresses  but undress their lustful thoughts

A a bra that is critical
A bra that is censorious

I had once thought 

Of giving farewell to my bra 

That asked me not to step outside the women’s room….

Today the same body accepts my bra affectionately

A bra that is well experience, understanding patriarchy and the female strength,

A bra that confirms the vital difference

A bra that affirms the existence of a womb, its significance

A bra that defines our sexuality

A bra that illustrates our individuality

©lil_timeandreflections

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Chaos

Do you know?

That inside me rests a chaos

Like a galaxy in the space

Like the diverse species of plants on earth

Co-existing without a battle for soil, religion or race..

It is there like the varied words weaving to produce a melody

The chaos rests deep down inside my skin

Like the million atoms present but invisible

to the sinful eyes….

But do not panic

They are at rest

And at perfect peace.
©lil_timeandreflections

Thank you all for taking time to read my poetry.

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/incubate/https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/incubate/

Family

​A hot cup of Darjeeling tea in my hand

Grandpa’s unending ancient stories,

It’s our forever company

Grandma’s moral proverbs – immortal

Her sagacious hand, anointing us

Baba’s jokes, humorous, filled with laughter

Ama’s scolding vaporising in the air

Kaka’s slow and gentle talk is healing

Kaki’s sweet songs echoing everywhere

Sisters narrating and

exchanging their lives in a voice so soft, Motif – 

not to disturb baje or boju at night

Functions and festivites,

Paranomal activities, haunted histories

Gatherings and meetings

More than a twenty cups filled with tea

What more!

We grew binded like a branch of a big tree

We are what people call a ‘family’…

©pr_timeandreflections
https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/above/https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/above/

The Shadows

(It took me an hour to weave  this  true story into a poem. I would love to know your thoughts in the comment below.)

The dark shadows in her lips
Freeze

A massive discomfort

Had her heart

Seized

She could not 

Sing

But hum

The tunes of

Numbness

Printing her every

Skin.

Jailed in

The gown

She wore

When excited

She stood

To taste the love

Which now grew

Beastly and Bitter
The dark shadows in her 

Lips remain freezed

For she refuses

To let the black clouds

Pour over her family

Some thick mascaras

Shades of foundation

With a smile she fakes, she clothes herself

She sails in the river and deceives so well.

©p.r_timeandreflections

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/dim/

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/restart/

The Uninvited Guests

source: google/Pinterest

Where on earth am I safe? Where? Those eyes staring at me constantly as if I am walking naked. I think their mind has become a dress scanner. Such is their looks. Girls its high time we visit a smithy and construct an Iron Woman outfit or Is this the reason why many girls choose to wear men’s attire? Well may be.   

We are little kids until our periods visits us. Our bodily transformation begins. Period days and  the stomach aches that lasts for hours. Your breast begins to develop and gets perky and the initial phase of course is painful. We start getting conscious and we are taught to be careful.

While we are on this transformative phase, even the neighbourhood and the street eyes looks at us differently. Officially no more kids. Those sanitary napkins inside your mothers’ secret lockers,bras,now occupies your space.

When walking down the street. I heard for the first time the special sound, they made with their tongue. They whistled while carefully speculating our back. We now meet eve teasers and we are taught to ignore.

source: PinterestWhile   walking down the usual path, the sound of a motorbike, two guys, one grabs my boobs and shooo the bike vanishes. The society remembers me.

I reject someone and the psychopath comes throws acid on my face, shooo the criminals vanishes. The society will never forget me.

Again this is not enough, one day they grabbed me; a hundred licentious eyes and hands their mouth salivating as they clenched my arms and thighs; their claws tearing my soft clothes and flesh, one by one they raped me, inserted foreign objects inside my vagina. My body bruised and blood dripping. But shooo the rapists vanishes. The country will never forget my name.

But does anyone remember any assualters,molesters, rapists? Their names? The place where they belong? 

Yes! I am afraid of the dark, of those nocturnal eyes and hands ,of those ghastly beasts who haunts our bodies and enjoy our pain.Where on Earth are we safe? Very recently I received a message from an unknown person in Facebook asking me to indulge in a sex chat with him. Very instantly I had to block that person.

Even in the virtual world these dirty minds craves for sex.

A few months back. We were inside a three wheeled vehicle and an old man who was seated in front of us. He looked at us and after a while put his hand inside his pant. At first we thought may be he was uncomfortable but no he kept on repeating that a couple of times touching his private part and putting his fingers inside his mouth. That was gross and we were about to get out from the vehicle but fortunately he left .

Thousands of cyber crimes, rapes take place every single day and many cases are not even reported.

Source: Pinterest
 Sometimes it is outside your home and sometimes it is inside your home and neighbourhood. It is usually the victims who are blamed by the society. Her dress was short, she was alone, she walked during night, she had a bad character, she had many past relationships, may be she was a call girl, she was friendly and open with guys and so on.

source: google
Thousands fingers pointing towards the victim and the voice crying for help is just silenced. But the fault lies not in the girls or in her dress or in her character but in those shameless eyes that are naked and distorted ,that lacks good food and nutrition. Thereby effecting the entire mind making their body abnormal. If we are proud to be the  citizens of a land that is rich with temples and cultures we have much more reason to be ashamed of because thousand minds are getting distorted in a peculiar way thus defaming the whole nation and the human civilisation.

These uninvited guests are present in every street corners and the very recent Bengaluru Molestation incident baffled the whole country. How long! How long! Will the girls have  to live their life in fear? How long will they have to stay indoors? How long!

Our country India is blessed with rich cultures, the land of Gods and Goddesses. In every house we have these miniature Goddesses- Parvati,Laxmi,Saraswati,Durga,Kali and so many that we can hardly remember each names and every year we celebrate the festivals, Kali Puja, Sarasvati Puja (prayers offering to these special Goddesses or Mothers/Ma).

In spite of women being given a goddess figure why are we turned into a mere commodity and victimised in various parts of the world? Are we really the civilised people of this modern era? Do we live in a Blessed age or a Cursed one where filthy mind goes for another such crime and craves for more.Who are to blamed for such a heinous act? And in our small hilly areas as well where girls’ safety was ensured, here to the spark of such an evil act has already ignited. When will such a thing come to an end? 

The picture below which I received in  WhatsApp perfectly describes the present scenario.

Source: google

We all have these questions- Are they people like you and us? Are they human? Are they really men of flesh and blood?

Were they born from a mother’s womb? Those boobs that they sexualise now. Were they not fed by their mothers’ breast? Were they not inside their mothers womb for nine months and were they not born out from a labour pain? Didn’t they cry for the first time as their heads came out of theirs mothers’ vagina,covered in her blood while that umbilical cord still connecting them? I doubt those people were never breast feeded by their mothers. They were never connected to Mothers’ because that female body is the first known part to every men and women when they first step into an alien world. And the same body they now sexualise and disrespect.

Yes, it is true that thinking separates us from the wild animal kingdom but this intelligence is of no use to those retarded evil minds. Its such a shame that even animals such as them do not exist. There is no such thing as Rape! in their world. Better is an animal than a human.

We have used our intelligence to such an extent that we are the most cultivated advanced being who are ruling the earth and the space. But when these ‘uninvited guests’ disturbs the peace and purity of an individual, we are in the nadir and not in the zenith of our civilisation.

How I Became a Tree – Sumana Roy

I am quoting my words from my poem Azaleas posted a week before in my blog.

“I still have that old photograph

Me and my mother beside

That new mother happily

bursting with pink azaleas
It was last winter, 

Grandpa had to cut it short 

I still remember that expression

Of discomfort and regret

“Don’t be disheartened baba

They will grow again”, I said.

But his reply gave me a shock

,“They knew I would cut them.

 It gives me much pain to inflict the same upon the plant I planted and nursed.”

“But they will grow next year”, he consoled himself.

Weeks haven’t past

My mom sick and in pain,

Tortured me more…

Yes, there is a strong connection

Between a mother and her child

It was then I realised

My grandpa though a Father figure

Had already become a Mother 

To the plant life he was giving birth

With every passing year,

Trees,plants,orchids and so on…”

How I Became a Tree very much reminds me of my Thulobaba, baba and boju who are very much one with the green friends growing around us- pines, Azaleas, orchid trees( bahunia.sp), bottle brush( my favourite), Oranges (tall and dwarf), lemon, roses, lalupathey,chinaroses, Gauva, orchids and many more I cannot name.I have grown up with the hills, the trees around me, soaking in the aroma of the fresh tea leaves.I have grown up with the orange trees in our orchard. Some are of my father’s age, some even older than him, some are of my age and others are still younger and growing, all so very taller than me. Each winter, they bless us and when we were kids we would spend the whole day in the orchard, often skipping our lunch…

And reading Han Kang’s novel The Vegetarian, “set in modern-day Seoul,tells the story of Yeong-hye, a home-maker, whose decision to stop eating meat after a bloody, nightmarish dream about human cruelty leads to devastating consequences in her personal and familial life”. What struck me more are the lines in part 3.flaming Trees where she explains her dream“ 

[…] “Do you know how I found out? Well, I was in a dream, and I was standing on my head…leaves were growing from my body, and roots were sprouting from my hands…they delve down into the earth. Endlessly,Endlessly…. yes, I spread my legs because I wanted flowers to bloom from my crotch; I spread them wide…” . 

This description goes so well with this amazing book cover.Isn’t the cover amazing ?

And here is the book with its subtle contemplative narrative “Among all desires to become a tree, the most urgent was the need to escape the noise; one was the noise of the humans, the other was the vocabulary of silence of the active life of trees” How I Became A Tree by Sumana Roy is one remarkable book you never want to lose at any cost. I ordered this book from Flipkart (Of course it is available in Amazon). The more you read the more you get absorbed into the detailed photographic experiences and glimpses of the authors’ life. The more you read, the more you feel trees and flowers becoming more alive before your eyes. The way she thinks is unmatched and unparalleled, with her unique comparisons and interesting terms like the “tree-time”. There are chapters like Women as flowers and Women as trees.  This is an exceptional book where one is awestruck and mesmerised at the same time. This book helps you come a hundred steps  closer to the plant kingdom  and feel each senses of a variety of flora breathing together with us. This is a book which is not hard to understand. Written in a simple lucid manner, we are sure to explore every flavour of memoir, literary history, nature studies, spiritual philosophies and botanical research. 

I am still reading this book and by the end I am sure I will understand more and discover the heart beating inside every plant life.I hope I am not the same person after finishing this book.

Since I haven’t completed the book, I cannot produce a full book review. But below 👇 are the few links where you can read the full book reviews-

1.world literature review of How I Became a Tree

2.7 Reasons Why you should read ‛How I Became a Tree’- Sumana Roy

3.https://cafedissensusblog.com/2017/04/29/book-review-sumana-roys-how-i-became-a-tree/

This is my copy of ‘How I Became a Tree.’ Isn’t the cover Beautiful and expressive?

Well not every one is blessed as I am right now😇😇😇. 

My copy signed by Ma’am Sumana Roy

Well I got my copy signed by the author who fortunately turns out to be our beautiful Teacher. She is one of the best teachers on Earth with a beautiful heart and a gorgeous smile.A picture with our Dear beautiful Ma’am. How can I miss this opportunity…

From the Aleph book publisher-“In this remarkable and often unsettling book, Sumana Roy gives us a new vision of what it means to be human in the natural world. Increasingly disturbed by the violence, hate, insincerity, greed and selfishness of her kind, the author is drawn to the idea of becoming a tree. ‘I was tired of speed’, she writes, ‘I wanted to live to tree time.’ Besides wanting to emulate the spacious, relaxed rhythm of trees, she is drawn to their non-violent ways of being, how they tread lightly upon the earth, their ability to cope with loneliness and pain, the unselfishness with which they give freely of themselves and much more. She gives us new readings of the works of writers, painters, photographers and poets (Rabindranath Tagore and D. H. Lawrence among them) to show how trees and plants have always fascinated us. She studies the work of remarkable scientists like Jagadish Chandra Bose and key spiritual figures like the Buddha to gain even deeper insights into the world of trees. She writes of those who have wondered what it would be like to have sex with a tree, looks into why people marry trees, explores the death and rebirth of trees and tells us why a tree was thought by forest-dwellers to be equal to ten sons.

Mixing memoir, literary history, nature studies, spiritual philosophies and botanical research, How I Became a Tree is a book that will prompt readers to think of themselves and the natural world that they are an intrinsic part of, in fresh ways. It is that rarest of things – A truly original work of art. How I Became a Tree a book that will prompt readers to think of themselves and the natural world that they are an intrinsic part of, in fresh ways. It is that rarest of things – A truly original work of art.” (Blurb)

Book – How I Became a Tree

Author- Sumana Roy

Genre- Non-fiction

‛How I Became a Tree by Sumana Roy’ is available in Amazon or other online book stores by Aleph book company For only Rs.599 (discounts are available)
https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/farce/

Azaleas…

source : google

They drink water and carefully chew earth 

Soaking in that rich photons

They are sun-tanned

Yet they grow no dark

But beautifully do they age

And withers without a tinge of fear

Blossoming every spring

They are Azaleas so stunning

White, purple,

Sometimes amalgamtion of different colours Sometimes her scarlet blush

Attracting not only human eyes 

But winged angels from far and wide.

I still have that old photograph

Me and my mother beside

That new mother happily

bursting with pink azaleas
It was last winter, 

Grandpa had to cut it short 

I still remember that expression

Of discomfort and regret

“Don’t be disheartened baba

They will grow again”, I said.

But his reply gave me a shock

,“They knew I would cut them.

 It gives me much pain to inflict the same upon the plant I planted and nursed.”

“But they will grow next year”, he consoled himself.

Weeks haven’t past

My mom sick and in pain,

Tortured me more…

Yes, there is a strong connection

Between a mother and her child

It was then I realised

My grandpa though a Father figure

Had already become a Mother 

To the plant life he was giving birth

With every passing year,

Trees,plants,orchids and so on…

Pursue

writings on the wall

Pursue“>

Pursue

A warm hug 🙆and Namastey🙏 to all my WordPress family( the blogs I follow,the blogs who follows me and the future blogs I will be following and vice-versa). Lately I haven’t been able to paint the WordPress wall with my words because of my busy schedule( college, classes and my Ama being quite unwell) . But still I have managed to write  quite a few lines before bed or while travelling by bus. So these are the pictures of my work.👇👇👇👇 Happy writing and reading.💗💗💗💗💗💗

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Thank you for visiting by blog an giving a minute or two reading my simple writings😇I hope it was worth reading/ worth taking your time. Hope you all enjoyed. Check out my other posts -articles/poems. Wish you all a very happy today / tomorrow. Keep praying and do not let your smile die.

With  infinite 💗💞

Pursue

P.R_ timeandreflections