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We often make choices that shackle us, but freedom from them is not far, if only we gather strength to stand up for our rights!
When our own decisions shackle us
And our choices lead to an impending doom;
Then we realize that with our own hands we closed the doors
And chose the four walls.
It’s then standing in front of the mirror
We are caught by the stare of a Bandini;
Caught in some illusions of endearment
And a fallacy of providence.
But that can’t stop us from unchaining the self
None can halt us from getting the sunrays—
waiting against those closed doors.
The shed tears bear us the strength to fight,
And solitude teaches the essence of amity,
Faded dreams starts twinkling
And identity asks for freedom.
Shall rebel to be the self
And breathe in free air
Embrace those unfulfilled ambitions
With a faith deep within the pulsating heart.
Author’s note: Dedicated to all anonymous women who chose family over their dreams, yet remained unnoticed and unacknowledged.
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Published here earlier.
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Being born with Flower AND Fire; I belong to the league of women, both Feminine AND Fierce. Don't tell me how girls can be either this or that; I know how to wear both read more...
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'Dr Saloni will take care of everything,' my MIL said. My cowardly husband refused to go against his mother’s wishes. I was left to fend for myself!
Some time ago, I went to a marriage ceremony with my parents. It was a very high-profile marriage – not the ones we usually were invited to – but in this case it was Ramesh uncle’s son’s marriage. Ramesh uncle was my father’s first cousin. He began his career as a humble elevator operator at the TIC business group. With his sheer hard work, grit, and the knack of sensing the right opportunities, within eighteen years he became the president of the company. My father and he were the best of friends during their school time.
Half an hour before the stipulated time, we left our house, hired an auto and reached the venue. All four of us were in our best outfits. Getting out of the auto and looking at each other, we were highly convinced that we were going to fit in just right. As we crossed the dazzling and beautiful portico, we felt very insignificant compared to the big lawn and building lying ahead.
Mother was wearing all the jewellery she had got, including the big old-fashioned necklace, earrings and shiny bangles. Father was wearing a velvet coat, brother had put on a light orange shirt with a black check coat, I myself was wearing a red salwar kurta with a net dupatta. I had put on a necklace with red beads which at the time of wearing looked very pretty to me. Now looking at the other guests, I felt all four of us must be looking like clowns who had come for a fancy-dress competition. I felt my brother and parents were also feeling self-conscious and uneasy now.
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