06092010

As the night slowly crawls in,

And everything surrenders to the dark

My heart lets out a sigh!

"Not today", I say "some other day please"

"No" and it pulls me deeper inside

Inside that tunnel at the end of which

I see colours bright and deep

"Aah", my heart lets out a leap

But slowly as I reach the end

Those colours blend to a greyish mend

Of shattered dreams and a broken heart

I look at it and I know why,

The night refuses to fly.

Honey, I killed the kids!

I have been in Delhi for three months now. Definitely not enough to pass judgments. But definitely something I would want to voice my opinion on. The papers are full of it and so is my mind. Honour Killings! Yes, I have heard and read about it. They happened in those remote villages across India where education had still not found its way and where liberalization was something still unheard of. But Honour killngs in the Capital city of my Country?

It breaks my heart to see how on the one hand the city is preparinag itself for the commonwealth games 2010 – wanting to give an impression that Delhi is a world class city, any day at par with the most developed cities across the world. And on the other hand, cases of such cold brutal murders happening in the dark alleys of the same city almost every week, are threatening to suck it back in the dark old age of panchayats and casetism. Making Delhi a miniature form of those villages I was talking about a little earlier.

I have read about, atleast six cases of honour killings in the last 2 months ( 2 months of the three months I have been in Delhi. The remaining one month had me so busy house and job hunting that I don’t remember reading newspapers. I might have only glanced through the classified sections, hoping my luck would shine and I would find an ad for an ideal home somewhere).That makes it 12 people in all. This is but what got covered in the media.

Daughters killed by their brothers, mothers, grandmothers, fathers. Sons killed by their in-laws, grandmothers, brothers, fathers. Some shot in the head, some electrocuted, some strangulated and some beaten till they bled and died. It just doesn’t seem right. It sends shivers down my spine. Some deaths have taken place after two to four years of the couples being into marriage. Have their families nurtured that-so called wound for so long? Have they spent all of those two to four years waiting for the right moment to strike? And what for? All in the name of family and in the name of community – Gujjars, Rajputs, Balmikis, Jaatav etc etc. (having come to delhi, my knowledge of various communities have increased drastically). What anyways is left of those families?

At times, I can’t but wonder if these lovers had knowingly chosen this end, well aware of the price of loving someone, their community thought they shouldn’t. Probably love knows neither reason nor boundaries. If you can’t be the one you love, it really doesn’t matter whether you are dead or alive.

1st July 2010

A part of me wants to quit,

Another still ready to face any challenge.

Question of my survival, it says.

Resolve follows frustation,

Hope follows tears,

Stubbornness follows hurt,

Indifference follows outpourings,

Solutions follows confusion,

Strength follows heart-breaks...

Sitting by the side of the window,

my thoughts all grey.

I see a bird flying high above

My heart skips a beat

and my face lights up.

Probably, I know why

that part doesn't want me to give up.

From the 'Times of India', 21 Nov, 2008

hmmmn

Market down...

Came across this in The Statesman today. Interesting :O) Thought of including it in my blog