Tag Archives: poems

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.

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Blue

I watched that blue,deep blue ocean
As it’s waves twirled and move forward
I felt at once to swipe myself off and leave with it’s to and fro motion, without a trace.
Until my body,tired of holding the weight gets exhausted
My existence becomes extinct
As the ocean slowly swallows me in.

So deeply did I delve in the thought
That I found no difference between you and that vast ocean.
It’s color resembled your eyes.
Yes, your blue eyes where I had so long sailed
Didn’t realize that the weather change
be it in your eyes or that Ocean,it’s same.
And at last I became that old Titanic
Sinking, gradually sinking in the pains
That left me all broken and paralysed

But you are too unworthy to be called an ocean
That harbours thousand different lives.
Never does it abuse or leave others bruised.
As I viewed the blue universe
It taught me lessons in silence
So letting everything go
I stand before it, peeling off that paralysed self,in an outfit,
That mirrors its color.
My mind and my heart all blue
Resembling the powerful
Blue,Yes,deep blue ocean.

©pr_timeandreflections

Post by :pr_timeandreflections

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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

Source – Google

  I woke up and 

Placed myself in front of the mirror

That carefully detailed my features

The face, the eyes, the nose, the lips and my hands

My spotted skin, few scars and freckles

My smile with teeth not visibly bright; few lost

My natural  silver hair ,Few black dyed and artificial

They say my  skin, thin and pale; loose and sagged breast.

I call it elasticity with

channels of blue nerves visible and

Every  year the invisible artist sculpts

What people called wrinkles on my face

But I call them dimples

My eyes recently got rid of that cataract still nothing changed

 And the power keeps on  increasing

The skin isn’t the same like it was when my mother first breast-fed me.

That change is just permanent

My lips  is forever sucked in. I find this a little weird,  funny as my ears too droops. 

But do not worry

Oh! it’s the gravity that has pulled it down.

No more does the blood river within me flows

The ascending years have mutated me

In a beautiful way. Still I am me the same person with my story unchanged.

I did not worry like the evil queen in Snow White and the seven dwarfs

Even when my mirror spoke and showed me the glimpses of my future days

Instead I was happy because 

He who created me is an Artist and I myself his Art.

Having consumed so much of this Earth

I will still have nothing to repay her back

Except after my death,my decomposed self

Ready to merge with her;

 Still ready and willing to turn each page

Thank God! you never age…

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

DEAR LIFE (never let yourself go)

The bundled pain might prick you

So very bitter and unhealthy

For your heart or for your body.

They might ache more than

The fresh burns you just had

You might apply a band-aid

But that proper medicine

Is an undiscovered priority.

Your closed bedroom,the locked heart

Is all  rusted with

Heaps of untold secrets…

Even those silent sobs

Your quilt cannot cover

Neither that door.

Afraid that the sound might penetrate

All you are left is with screams,

Screams that are louder than the roars

Visibly audible only to your ears.

Nights growing more cruel than the days

Your mom may bid you goodnight

But your sleep have boarded  the flight

Leaving you with an inevitable depression

A nocturnal animal you have become.

So no one except your dog can understand .

Handcuffed by these inescapable pains

Even your skin have grown pale and purple

Because they have stayed stagnant

Like erupted drops of blood , freshly clotted

Why don’t you let them flow?

Deep within they remain forever cloistered.

Why don’t you let them go?

When it has become that pernicious parasite,

Burning and eating you alive.

Do you simply want to turn into ashes?

like that piece of paper (I see there is something written on it);

or that wood (it provided shelter to many);

or that ragged cloth? that warmed those bare skin.

You might feel like

Befriending that rope

And welcome the untimely death.

But simply perishing away

With a marble tomb behind,

Is not an option to embrace.

Better  embark on this mysterious journey

With the seed of purpose that is yet to blossom.

Why be that treacherous villain? a murderer of thy self?

For whom every punishment is worthless.

Look back in time

See how much you have earned. I mean not money

But the glorious wealth-friends,families.

So ending this sweet-salty life is that option

Not even an abandoned on the streets would dare take.

Life is so very valuable

Not even that famous Kohinoor can buy
So better dance your pain out

singing  and accepting the rhythm of moments.

Remember? how we all have danced

To that childhood rhyme:

“Ring A Ring O’Roses

A Pocket Full of Posies

A-Tishoo! A-Tishoo!

We All fall down”

But we all have stood up,

Forgetting the falling pains

See the best ailment is to laugh.

So my dear friend

Never fall prey to suicide

Better unstich the patterned pains

That so long have bruised

Your submerged universe.

Unlocking that rusted chambers

Be like that swift  river always flowing,

Undisturbed from the mountains ,hills

Valleys , deserts and plains

Sometimes meandering

Until they become ocean silent…

Life offers us with million colours of pleasures and pain

And in its varied flavours ,

We  have so much to gain.

-P.R.

Continue reading DEAR LIFE (never let yourself go)

Darjeeling is all dazzling with Rhododendrons.

Pic courtesy: .P.R .Every year I am in love with this beauty. Rhododendron arboreum blushing in Mall Road.

See who is blushing?

The luminous beauty,magnificent

She wears no artificiality, 

Reflecting her true self

All we can do is just gaze

The marvellous sight like

Fine paintings of red hearts

Every year its the same time

She is ever ready to meet her groom

The unrivalled beauty

She is forever an untouched bride.

©P.R
Desire

Journey

source: google

Sometimes its about the moon and stars,

Sometimes its all about those little scars.

Sometimes its that little care ,

Sometimes its about the lice in your hair.

Sometimes its meeting strangers far and wide,

Sometimes its about you and me all day and night.

Sometimes its the thoughts disturbing night,

Sometimes its the air calm and quiet.

Sometimes its the splattering rain,

Sometimes its about healing pain.

Sometimes its the secret lies,

Sometimes its that instant smiles.

Sometimes its those musical laugh and cry,

Sometimes its those wound gone far and dry.

Sometimes its about that funny dance,

Sometimes its all about a hundred chance.

Sometimes it is love and kisses,

Sometimes its about those lost wishes.

Sometimes it is that tortured heart,

Sometimes its about stiching the gap.
Days more spent yet thousand awaiting in chains,

Crossing bridges and winding up the narrow lanes.

My whimsical journey is in pursuit of palpable meaning,

Learning alphabets – a, b ,c and d,was just the beginning.

©P.R

Hideout

Hear my  poem by clicking the link below.

https://soundcloud.com/puja-kulung-rai/journey-a-poem-by-p-r-1

Grace

​Gravity never pulled me down

It always lifted me up

That is why

Even when you

Plucked all my feathers

And blood oozed

I could still swim in the air.

This is not the end

They shot me with words

Disturbing my flow

I ate them

Carefully swallowing

As they corroded my throat

But I didn’t think of atom bomb

Instead alchemized

Those words

Into festoons of poems

Showering them with

Soothing songs

Just to heal their soul.

©P.R

This is my first time poetry in voice. I shared the video of this poem,myself reading it and I got a good response from my friends in facebook. With a positive heart,I am sharing this with all my wordpress friends.

Click on the link below to hear me reading my poem

https://youtu.be/oxmSaHeC4Yw

Tremble