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My insides scream when I’m with you
I want the earth to swallow me whole so you can’t see me
Grey rock, disappear, don’t exist don’t be, don’t have a personality
So you can’t see me to hurt me
Yet I’m with you every day
Why? I don’t understand me
Why don’t I love me?
I stay silent when I want to holler in despair till my throat bursts
Over how you yell, berate and mock me
Which will be which on what day is a surprise
I am always the butt of your joke
The thorn on your side
A source of constant disdain
I grow tired of your rage and hatred sprinkled with affection
So I hold on to hope that things will change
Yes I don’t leave
Why can’t I leave?
Why does my skin need your skin at this visceral level?
When did my mind meld with yours?
Why do I choose you over me?
Why don’t I love me?
You make me feel like nothing
You enjoy my brokenness
You celebrate my torment
You laugh at my pain
You chew at my brain
You break my heart, you’ve chipped it away
Yet I stay with you? Why why why!
Why don’t I love me??
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As he stood in front of his door, Nishant prayed that his wife would be in a better mood. The baby thing was tearing them apart. When was the last time he had seen his wife smile?
Veena got into the lift. It was a festival day, and the space was crammed with little children dressed in bright yellow clothes, wearing fancy peacock feather crowns, and carrying flutes. Janmashtami gave her the jitters. She kept her face down, refusing to socialize with anyone.
They had moved to this new apartment three months ago. The whole point of shifting had been to get away from the ruthless questioning by ‘well-wishers’.
“You have been married for ten years! Why no child yet?”
I huffed, puffed and panted up the hill, taking many rest breaks along the way. My calf muscles pained, my heart protested, and my breathing became heavy at one stage.
“Let’s turn back,” my husband remarked. We stood at the foot of Shravanbelagola – one of the most revered Jain pilgrimage centres. “We will not climb the hill,” he continued.
My husband and I were vacationing in Karnataka. It was the month of May, and even at the early hour of 8 am in the morning, the sun scorched our backs. After visiting Bangalore and Mysore, we had made a planned stop at this holy site in the Southern part of the state en route to Hosur. Even while planning our vacation, my husband was very excited at the prospect of visiting this place and the 18 m high statue of Lord Gometeshwara, considered one of the world’s tallest free-standing monolithic statues.
What we hadn’t bargained for was there would be 1001 granite steps that needed to be climbed to have a close-up view of this colossal magic three thousand feet above sea level on a hilltop. It would be an understatement to term it as an arduous climb.
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