Oblivious of the world,
In her little nest.
Oblivious of the world,
In her little nest.
Adrenaline dashing through her system, she can feel her heart pounding in her chest. Reaching this particular corner of the street was always like wading in quicksand. She can feel her bravado evaporate into thin air. Suddenly her path was crossed by none other than the gang of thugs who roam around that place.
“What’s the hurry girl?”
“Why do you play this innocent game of hard to get?”
“Common, I know girls like you…”
The life of an orphan was never easy. The day she married into a well off extended family was a dream come true. Unfortunately the dream was short lived. It was difficult to get away from the preying eyes of her husband’s uncle. His words were like the sting from a scorpion.
“You behave as if you don’t know what you are doing.”
“With your prim and proper ways, you think you are so pious?”
“Oh I know very well, girls like you…”
Attending university was the road to achieve another milestone. She met a boy at the orientation. Their friendship bloomed and they became best buddies. To her, he was a gem of a friend. One day she was having lunch at the cafeteria when she overheard a bunch of girls talking rather loudly.
“She thinks she can fool us by hashtagging their friendship.”
“I know her type. They take delight in flirting with every cute boy in range.”
“Oh yeah! I know girls like her…”
I am not implying every corner of the world is reserved by forceful thugs. Neither am I saying all the extended families are full of venomous scorpions ready to sting. Nor are universities crowded with snobbish girls who doubt the friendship between both sexes. I am simply saying that there are people who stigmatize and label girls as, “girls like you”. Being independent, carefree, dressing in a particular way, being friendly towards the opposite sex, must never be listed under a certain category. People with this kind of prejudice need to wake up.
Since home is the first school, parents have a huge responsibility to mould their children to be respectful instead of being preconceiving and discriminating. A girl must never be viewed as an object to whom you can dump all your unwanted filth.
Let it never be the case that one day, we doubt the upbringing of our children to the extend to which we blame ourselves, and be held accountable for enabling the stigma of “people like them”.
How do you conduct yourself when you feel like an abandoned house? Once precious laughter rang from every corner, now I am devoid of it. Since the glow of my world left, no light shines through the windows. The walls have become dull and yellowish. Bats and spiders have become the new tenants. They mock my sorrowful tunes, which have become hollow and lifeless without your silly grumpy complains. With a sliver of hope, I keep the door wide open, hoping that one day your roaming feet will find its way home. Everyday I disperse small pebbles of love for you to pick in case you are lost.
I fear the maze that has been built. It looks attractive with the green uniform hedges. I know, your innocent eyes will not detect the poisonous weeds burrowed inside. But I need you to see. Examine closely. Through the cracks of the stone path. Even the beautiful dandelion is a weed.
If only you knew, how hard I try to mow the lawn. Tend the flower beds. However difficult it may seem, to cut down the tangled dense thicket, I still do it. I do not mind the prickly thorns, as long as I can shield you.
And when I become overwhelmed, I paint my sadness on the canvas of wind. So it can evaporate to the gloomy clouds of my heart before anyone can have a glimpse. It will eventually pour down as tears of rain. I will lower my gaze with slumped shoulders, to wait. To wait for a long time. Waiting for the storm within me to subside.
They say time heals everything. When the arrow of ridicule pierce you over and over again with a never ending vengeance, then what do you do? What do you do when someone discovers your Achilles’ heel?
Yet with an unknown future, I never once regret for standing on your doorstep. To see your sweet smile. To be a part of your small world. To make a promise. I cannot always be present. But I will forever love you with all my heart. One day you will understand. From my unshed tears, I never showed you. From my ache, I never let you feel. From my prayers, that you never heard, and God being the only witness. From the special place in my heart, always vacant just for you. Because I believe I have an equal right over you.
Darling child, maybe someday you will understand the aching of a father.
Awakened to the deafening thunder,
shielded by her bosom.
Splashing across the red puddles,
pleading for the life of her precious.
Even in death she smiled,
bidding adieu to vicious surroundings.
Orphaned near her lifeless body,
screaming under the world’s window.
Praying for a soul to hear,
ignored, beaten, and left alone.
Day and night turn to eons,
disregarding the inhuman vultures.
Challenging the last breath,
gazing at the barren land.
Radiance of peace on face,
I am cradled back to heaven.