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A poignant poem wherein the poet tells 'the mind' which often plays havoc with one, to simply 'hush'.
A poignant poem wherein the poet tells ‘the mind’ which often plays havoc with one, to simply ‘hush’.
Hush, dear mind; this is not helping,
You’ve chained me without chains, this spell is paralyzing.
We are well past the days when goodness was presumed,
You may stop picking at those scabs now, rubbing salt to my wounds.
No, dear mind; you are becoming my foe.
The memories don’t help anymore, it’s getting difficult to let go.
You are known to bend forks with your infinite power,
You choose to bring me down to my knees instead-a tramp locked in a glorious tower.
Thank you, dear mind; for not clipping my wings yet.
But you have sewn my lips into a smile- to flash at everybody I have since met.
You have spiked the ceiling I intend to break with pieces of glass.
You have only let me say “I’m fine” , to those who happen to trespass.
Stop it, dear mind; this safe place now feels like a cage,
You’ve turned me against myself- all I now have is rage.
There is a person staring back at me from the mirror I no longer recognize.
You need to let me change; I’ve been left for too long in this disguise.
You need to let go, dear mind; you are not saving us.
Instead of adorning my life- you have adorned me with cuts.
I know that you intend to fight for us, but it’s me that you crush,
So listen to me for once, when I tell you to-
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Her voice stutters; her pen doesn't . read more...
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"I chose to go out into the remote, wild, unknown, and make it home," says entrepreneur Kiranjeet Ahluwalia Chaturvedi, who owns Birdsong & Beyond.
The story of my mountain home Birdsong & Beyond started taking shape in 2009, on the internet, the way many stories do these days.
My childhood fascination for a life in the Himalayas led to an internship with a central Himalayan NGO instead of a much prized corporate assignment. But when they offered me a full-time job, I refused. I was overcome by fear and a lack of confidence.
My other longings pulled me away – the longing to fit in, to earn validation from others. By my mid-30s, with all the trappings of a middle-class urban life in place, the call of the snows couldn’t be ignored anymore. So I got to work on it with clearer intentions and a stronger sense of what I needed for myself, and why.
Many Indian elderly are firm believers in enslaving a daughter-in-law in the name of tradition which is actually a tradition of oppression and not of religious faith.
Albeit, the popular culture has interpreted scriptures as suggesting that Kanyadaan is the supreme form of donation given to someone, the connotation that the word donation alludes to definitely objectifies the girl.
Even when the exegesis justify the act of giving away the daughter, considering it a ritual to mark the initiation of the daughter into her husband’s gotra and her becoming the part of his family tree.
There is no denial of the fact that this initiation is not required on the part of the groom thereby formally denoting the end of the filial ties with the daughter as it was popularly instructed to the bride during the Vidai ceremonies:
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