Posts Tagged ‘girls’


Last week … I saw a small girl standing near the red light … I tried to talk to her mother and then the Child Welfare department to some how get her to school but was unsuccessful…
some thoughts as I looked into her eyes ….
माँ मुझे गुडिया ले दो …
खड़ी है वो चुप चाप … लालायित आँखों से देखती …
सुबह की हलकी धूप सूखे बालों को सुनहरा करती …
देखती है गुम-सुम सी हँसते बच्चों को स्कूल जाते …
अटकती हैं उसकी नज़रें उनके चमकते जूतों पर …
वापस आती हैं अपने नंगे कटे से पांवों पर …
उस के होठ हिलते हैं जैसे कह रहे हों मन ही मन …
कोई सुनी हुई कविता कोई भूला दो का पहाड़ा …
खड़ी है वो चुप चाप 

कार में बैठी कुछ कुछ अपने ही जैसी लड़की को …
आइस-क्रीम खाती वो लड़की चहक रही है …
देखती है उसको ..उसके बालों में लगे रिबन को …
हाथ उठ जाते हैं खुद के उलझे हुए बालों तक …
जीभ फेरती है अपने सूखे हुए होठों पर …
देखती है खुद को वहां एक पल को …
खड़ी है वो चुप चाप … लालायित आँखों से देखती …

खुद तो संभली नहीं और दूसरे दे दिए गोद में …
बहन और माँ के अंतर को खत्म कर दिया गरीबी ने …
गुड्डे-गुडिया के खेल खेले नहीं …संभाला अपनों को …
घर घर खेलने की उम्र में सेकी असली रोटियाँ …
किस से मांगे वो गुडिया …किस से कहे स्कूल भेज दो …
कौन है अपना …गरीबी में ? 
माँ …मुझे गुडिया ले दो …
© Dr. Anita Hada Sangwan

 
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मेरे कदम रुक जाते हैं …दहलीज़ पर …

इसे लांघ कर कोरा  कागज़ है आगे …

या कोरा दिखता है ? लिखा है सब …

मेरी मुस्कुराहटें और आहें … मेरे आंसू और खुशियाँ …

इन कोरे पन्नो में लिखी है किस्मत …

छोड़े जा रही हूँ सर्वस्व ..अपनी पहचान …

 

छोड़े जा रही हूँ …

इस आँगन में अपने नन्हे क़दमों की  आहट …

वो रटी हुई पहली अंग्रेज़ी कविता के शब्द …

बाबुल की गोदी, माँ के आँचल में छुपे मेरे सपने …

भैया के हाथों में  अप्रत्यक्ष राखी के धागे  …

छोड़े जा रही हूँ …

 

दीवार पर लगी पहले स्कूल के दिन की तस्वीर …

और अलमारी से झांकती वो खेल की ट्राफी …

पीपल के पेड़ की टहनी से झूलता टूटा झूला …

और रसोई में बनी वो पहली रोटी की याद …

छोड़े जा रही हूँ …

 

आँगन के कोने कोने में हंसी छुपी है मेरी …

झारोंखें की सलांखों में दबे है कई आँसू …

चौखट में मिटी हुई कई रंगोली हैं मेरी …

और बुझे  हुए कई दीपक के तेल के निशाँ …

छोड़े जा रही हूँ …

 

छोड़े जा रही हूँ सर्वस्व ..अपनी पहचान …

मेरे कदम रुक जाते हैं …दहलीज़ पर …


Guest post by Varsha Kalyani, student of MA English Literature who aspires to bring change in society through her words and hopes to succeed one day & witness the change:

The news chilled me to the bones

For it could have been any of the girls

You, Me, Our Sister, Our friend…

Anyone!

If such cases will continue to transpire,

In fear of ‘HER’ Life,

Folks will stop sending their gals out

Quivering & Shivering of torments!

Why dont they understand?

The mental trauma a GIRL undergoes.

Physical injuries a doctor can heal

But what about the mental agonies?

Who’s gonna heal them?

A doctor, A Minister or A police officer!?

Even after saving ‘HER’ life,

Lending her breathe,

You think ‘SHE’ would survive through

that mortification of a molestation!?

Would punishing the culprits

make her lead a normal life?

Why don’t they understand

Someday their own daughters

might be ravished?

Why such barbarous beastly brutal act?

These ministers who move

With security & guards

can never perceive their own daughter

In victims place for they are not commoner!

Such pathetic cases

Would bring the doomsday soon

& its must come,

for ‘SHE’ would be safer

with the Demons & Satans of Hell

than the Devils & Belials of this Infernal Land !

 

PS: The post came out as my reaction to the news! vexing & annoying state of affairs.


This is the first story from my book ‘Steps’.There are eight  stories in all, all fiction and I will share my women and a part of myself through them here … with all of you. I hope you will find yourselves too somewhere. 

Uma- I wrote it as I waited to be called for an interview. I had nothing with me except copies of my resume and wrote in on the back of the three pages that make my resume. The director probably saw me scribbling away and asked me to show him what I was writing Outside. Hesitantly I showed him my scribbled story. He told me that though I was the most highly qualified candidate and would be offered  the job,  I should go home and write. I did.

UMA

Uma lay quietly, looking up at the soot darkened walls and the sunlight filtering through the dusty mesh. It made odd patterns. They reminded her of her daughter’s attempt at putting henna on her hands, as she had last week, on the auspicious festival of Gangaur. She raised her hands to see the discoloured henna, and rubbed them feebly together- blood on her hands.  What was wrong with her, why was she thinking of blood and death? She lay awaiting life- the birth of her child- her fifth child, child..??  After four daughters she awaited only the birth of a son, no longer of a ‘child’.

            Pain came stronger now, in waves, but Uma did not make a sound. She had screamed enough the past four times but the Gods had not listened, better to bear it. Oh! Why did she not have the optimism these other women squatting around her had? They seemed sure she would beget a son- the promised heir to the name and property. Property? The meager 2 acres left over from drink and gambling? He needed a heir for THAT? She laughed mirthlessly and her sister-in-law mistaking the sound for a sob, moved close, dabbing her forehead with her sari pallu.

            Uma looked into the face of her husband’s younger sister. She seemingly bore no resemblance to the young pretty girl she had been when Uma had entered the house as a young bride. Girls were not supposed to be happy but at least there had been hope and a vestige of a dream on her face. Five years of marriage had wiped out the wishes and dreams. Like the women around her, her face had only weariness etched in its lines now. Not grief, not desperation not even the death of her dreams – just weariness of life , of the constant compromise, the acceptance of the unaccceptable. They looked into each other’s eyes and shifted their gaze away, it seemed they both know the truth that they would have to face soon. Let’s leave it for now, their eyes said.

            Uma’s gaze went to the inner door where her eldest daughter peeped through, holding her sisters back, just nine years old and already a mother to her siblings. She remembered her soft words of yesterday as she rubbed her mother’s aching back and calmed her that it would be a son this time and how she would look after her brother and care for him.

            Suddenly Uma wanted it all to stop. She wanted to hold the little scrap of humanity safe in her womb forever and protect her daughter. To give birth would be to sentence her to the hellish life of her sisters, mother and generations of women. If… if she was allowed to live.

            She knew why the official midwife had not been called this time, knew the meaning of the cauldron of milk kept in a corner of the room. She averted her eyes, her heart silently screaming at her unborn child to remain unborn. She sobbed aloud as pain tore through her and the women in the room suddenly came to life.

Uma  lost herself in a world of pain and prayer, Later, there was an easing of pain and the cry of a baby, Uma did  not know how long or short it had been. She did not open her eyes, not wanting to look at the child who would soon be cruelly snatched away from her, and was not it better this way. She hardened her heart against the inevitable pain and horror.

Loud clanging and joyous shouts, she opened her eyes startled. She looked into the ecstatic faces of her mother and sister-in-law. ‘It’s a son’- she ran to break the news to her anxiously waiting brother.

Uma turned her face away to the inner door and beckoned her daughters to her, opening her tired arms to them. As they came in timidly, Uma’s face broke into a smile.


An account by @itsFreelancer of the First self defense workshop organized by @JusticeForWomen in Chennai:

The first self defence workshop for women was organised by JusticeforWomen in Chennai on Sept 1 and 2.

It was the first step towards a greater good, towards creating awareness that you, yourself are responsible for your well being. In a country like India where we are taught to respect women from an early age, the contrary to it is much more rampant. Women are molested in public, in houses by their husbands or family relatives, raped, killed, teased everytime a girl walks down a street. And this will continue. No matter how many laws the government sets up, its not going to be completely eradicated. Today you’re safe, tomorrow you won’t be able to look at yourself in the mirror.

Its time to be prepared for such an eventuality.

Justice For Women’s first ever self defence workshop was held at 17th Avenue, Salzburg Square, Chennai. And 3 courageous women stepped up to take matters in their own hands. I salute them for their bravery, I applaud them for their determination.

Uday Dhanda, was the anointed instructor in the discipline of Krav Maga. For those who do not know what Krav Maga is, it is the only non-competitive martial art in the world. That means, there is no world tournaments held for this discipline. Its deadly and it gets the job done.

What was taught in the two days was just the beginning of what you can achieve. It’s time women realised they are not just a shadow in the world of men anymore.

Day 1 consisted of learning what to do with the situations every girl faces daily. What to do when a man advances on you, what to do when you know you’re about to be in danger. When you’re in such a situation, the first thing that comes is shock. Overcome that. Take control. And we’re here to show you how.

Weeping and crying out for help will not help you enough. These workshops teach you how to fight back. You do not need to be martial arts champion to save yourself. A clear mind and a good reflex is all you need. Plus the determination to not be used by others. What do you do when someone grabs your hands? No matter how much you try to break yourself free, you’re powerless when the attacker is a man with a better body strength. They teach you how to use your assailant’s body force to break free. You learn where to hit, what to do. One action may be the difference between life and death.

The girls who showed up were more than eager to learn. They listened and practised with such an intensity knowing that yes, this will actually help them from preventing an unpleasant scenario. Most of you, one way or another has been in such a place. The next time you find yourself in one, you can actually get the better of it. Uday taught how to hit the assailant and where to hit. You do not need to be a superwoman to make his ribs crack and break free. Remember, they’re not going to play nice. So hit back with as much as you can with a clear mind. The harder they fall, the better control you’re in.

The girls who took part in this workshop heard about it from Twitter and Facebook. I just wished others were brave and concerned enough to take part. Girls seem to have this mentality that nothing bad would happen to them until it actually does. Only then do they wake up.

What do you do when you’re being forced upon? Do you simply weep and hope that its over soon? Once you gave it, you can be pretty sure it will happen again. Uday taught the girls what to do in such a situation. How to use your body and prevent this scene. Its simple and its effective. And you do not lose your dignity. Sadly, Uday chose me as the puppet to be trained on and I can tell you, it hurts. Imagine how much the assailant would be hurt when you take control with force.

Day 2 involved about what to do when you’re choked or when someone comes at you with a weapon. Practice, practice, practice. A simple 1-2 day workshop will just give you an idea. I urge you to learn it properly.

Its sad to know that it took a girl being molested in Assam to wake up. Nevertheless, you’ve realised that its time to be stronger. If you want to be equal, you need to get a move on. I am a guy. And I’m sad to say that I’m more concerned about this than most girls for whom this workshop was meant for.

It is your life, do not give up so easily. Today you’re safe with your brothers, your father, your boyfriend. But they cannot be with you 24*7. I ask you to ask yourself, Are you really safe or are you still in your dream world thinking nothing bad would ever happen to you.

Remember, you’re not alone as long as you carry your strength with you.

Regards,
Freelancer

PS: Uday Dhanda is in talks to set-up bi-weekly self defense workshops. Those interested in joining, kindly call him at: +919884342334 or drop a mention @themadcurator