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Friday, October 8, 2021

Your move.

Disclaimer: I'm giving up.

Dreams of a happy and normal life are for other people I guess. Others like me, wounded healers if I may, have a higher calling and purpose which can't be defined by or restricted to minor day to day things that may be pertinent for individual happiness but don't impact the larger picture (much at least). 

Some of us need to be okay with helping and working and others not understanding it. As long as they aren't actively sabotaging it, it counts as support - doesn't it? Who's keeping track of emotional needs or scars? As long as physical needs are being met and there is a semblance of normalcy, then let's keep the facade going. 

How dare I have needs that don't confine themselves to the patriarchy or casteism or gender persecution of Indian households? How dare I wish for timelines that would support me and help me grow? How dare I demand for anger to be reigned in and kept in check?

Weren't you educated? Provided for? Isn't that enough?
Aren't you well fed and encouraged to dream and pursue your passions (with only a little sarcasm for failure and quitting, come on you can't be sensitive about that now can you?)
Don't you think you should be grateful? For being given freedom and liberty? A girl after all - who can choose what to wear, eat, drink, whom to love - why aren't you more grateful and humble?
Why do you seek the impossible? Too much ambition I tell you...
Why are you so hung up on the ideas of an equal and loving companionship? Of a perfect proposal and wedding? (You're heard and loved and supported and cherished - come on this has got to be enough! The uncertainty is all in your head darling)

So I think it's time to imbibe the Indian values of sacrifice and martyrdom now. Bring the restless heart in check. Reign back the dreams. You can't have it all. No, you just can't. 
So life's message is clear: it's time to be realistic and give up - your dreams of idealism and perfection or your happiness because it's time to settle and compromise (which is just a fancy word for sacrifice).
Your move Shiromi. 

Wednesday, April 28, 2021

2021: Of a virus, my half-lost sanity, and MonsterModi

It's the 14th day today.

No, not of my quarantine, of me crying about what's happening to my country and its people. My family, my friends, my clients, their families. Death, despair and tragedy everywhere I turn. I can't switch it off. I feel, that's what I do - what I've always done. How do I now find the superpower to stop? I've spent all of the sanity I saved. Everyone is positive, or knows someone who is, everyone needs a bed, an ICU. oxygen, basically - just a shot at life. They just want to survive. 

I have never grappled with the very real possibility that my parents will eventually die. Now, I sit with this thought every single day. I wake up to it. I sleep to it. The nightmares are back. I snap at people, and then catch my tongue because who knows? This could be the last time we speak. I remind myself to hug and kiss my parents everyday because I don't know how long we will be safe. Or alive.

I've seen so much and yet I've seen nothing at all. I type this from the comforts of my house where I have the privilege to work from home, with nutritious home cooked meals, and two people to play Ludo with or build puzzles with. I type with oxygen in my lungs and surroundings - still terrified - what happens when we are next? Can we prevent the inevitable? Will I lose more people this year? Will I witness more than one funeral this summer?

One of my closest friends is set to get married this May. I promised him all my life that rain or shine, I would be there. Failing my promise seems the tiniest possible sacrifice I'll be making this year. I worry for my other friends who are doctors during this manmade horror. I worry, constantly. Gratitude doesn't work. Deep breathing doesn't work. Colouring fucking mandalas doesn't work. Nothing works, goddammit.

If I was a theist at all, I would drop down on my knees and spend my days praying. Maybe that would work? Dear God, if you're listening... I would really like to not lose my parents just yet. I know nobody does but they are all I have. I don't have a partner or a child or siblings. They are literally it. I can't - can't process the thought that this pandemic will take them from me. Call me selfish but I need you to be partial. Save them. Over me. If it comes to it, take me instead. 

But why should anyone have to lose their loved ones? Why are so many people dying? Why did we elect this monster Modi? Why, why, why did people not choose dumb over devil in 2014? Why was Hindutva and Ram Mandir so bloody important that we got these villains and criminals back in 2019? Are we as a nation paying for the grave sin of electing someone who orchestrated Godhara 2002? Did we really expect him to change and "develop" India? Were we so fucking naive? 

Modi, Shah, Yogi and BJP have done what they do best - elections, rallies, religion and jailing anyone doing anything right from protestors to students to activists to journalists to people helping others through social media. We didn't elect fools, we elected masterminds. We elected our very own version of Nazi India. 

I deplore people who still support these soulless monsters. I loathe people who work for the BJP IT Cell. I abhor the news channels that are refusing to call out the government's sheer in competence. And don't you dare give me the "What about when Congress did ---" and "Could Rahul Gandhi have handled this better?" rhetoric. I am fucking done. A five year old could have handled this situation better because s/he would have known when and whom to ask for help, and when and how to admit they're wrong. 

You know what perturbs me still? We won't remember these lost lives even till 2024. Our collective attention span is that short. We forgot demonetisation and what hell that unleashed on the economy. We will forget the countless that die without oxygen, outside hospitals, in their homes, on the roads. Hundreds that are being cremated without their families getting to bid them goodbye. Dalits and muslims building pyres and still facing discrimination. Laypersons trying to do CPR because that's how desperate we are. 

To say India deserved better is factually incorrect. 

India has gotten the leader that India deserved. The one who is better for the "economy" and "markets". The one who wants capitalisation all the way. The one who is BETTER than lord almighty Pakistan. The one that removed 370. The one that is building Ram Mandir during a pandemic. The one who doesn't meet the press once in 7 years. The one that loves Savarnas. The one who single-handedly destroyed supposedly impartial institutions like EC, RBI, CBI, Supreme Court, High Courts, and countless others. The one who uses his mother only for PR gimmicks. The one who makes policies, bills and infrastructure to benefit the rich biggies. The one that refuses to put a halt on Kumbh. The one who doesn't check his leaders when they blame women/jeans/momos for rapes, when they force-feed urine to Dalits, when they burn rape victims, when they murder anyone who comes in their way. The one who doesn't disclose the details of PM Cares Fund. The one who ensures every critic is deemed anti-national. The one who killed women and children. The one who continues to kill everyone around him directly or indirectly every single day. 

"Speak up, do something" they urged. "Silence and inaction at this time is no less than burning your country alive."

"Let them burn" he replied, as he carried on practising his pranayam and asans for the upcoming International Yoga Day. 

Thursday, March 4, 2021

Standing out

 All my life I've wanted to fit in

Fit into a tiny little box 

A place where I'm liked  and popular and hot

Sometimes people can make you feel that way no?

Like you're their favourite song?

I want to be your only diary

the last page of all your notebooks

scribble all over me

doodle and draw across my skin

cover me in your ink

I want to be your muse 

I want to be your -

Actually I just want to be -

- yours

Italics

Personal pronoun 

But I'm not 

So I'll continue drawing attention

& lighting fires

and standing out 

a l o n e

Friday, February 26, 2021

Friday feels.

 // writing to somebody and nobody in particular

just to let the universe know that you're on my mind

and everybody else too

the friend i lost

and all the friends i am yet to lose

i think of my best friend and my body aches

because i haven't seem him in so long

i think of my half-twin-brother across the seas

unknowing if i'll get to hug him this year

i wonder about the sister in delhi

i reminisce about the one in singapore

i worry about the one in canada 

and also the one who's only 7 miles away

i miss how your laughter sounded in my ears

i miss the horrible puns and the badly timed jokes

i miss the energy and the fun

i miss the long drives to nowhere 

i carry so many people with me 

i constantly despair 

i'm desolate

i'm unprepared 

i wanted to always reach my dream

but now that i'm here 

i don't understand why i keep missing 

being there

with you //



Monday, January 25, 2021

The start.

Oh, take me back to the start

**

I want to write you a love letter 

but midway it turns into a goodbye note. 

I guess that's how my brain makes my heart work. 

Even when all my heart wants to do is believe, 

my head won't have it - 

it doesn't allow me this basic illusion or relief 

that it's all going to be alright. 

People fantasise about their perfect life, 

(hell some believe they even manifest it) 

but here I just play tragedies on repeat instead - 

A hundred ways in which it can go wrong. 

Even my poetry is broken; 

I set out to write verses of love sonnets but inevitably 

end up with morose prose instead.

I don't know exactly when or what date it was

when my heart decided to break into two

and my mind disintegrated into a mess of cynicism 

irreparable, irreversible

stuck on the pain and the agony

making my life into the worst tragedy

when all my tiny heart wants 

is

to believe

to love

to hold

and to cherish

**

I want to scream i love you

from the rooftops and mountaintops 

until my throat is sore and dry

I guess that's how much I want to tell the world that you're mine

instead i become more quiet

I fade and dissolve

into the background 

Wanting to become the white noise that is -

barely noticeable 

insignificant, immaterial

as if i don't matter 

as if i am but a passenger in this journey

replaceable, forgettable 

because i can't shake this feeling 

of not being nearly enough 

I find myself reminisce the past

where did this all start?

where is the three year old that fell in love with 

the most romantic actor of all time?

the one who believed in fairytales and happily ever afters

hell, the one who even dreamed about them

where is the belief?

in myself 

in you?

in us?

**

Oh, take me back to the start