Can I Wear What I Please To Wear?

The answer to the question in the title is an absolute yes! You can wear whatever you want as long as it is pleasing to the society and everyone around you. You can wear a bralette under a jacket as many instagrammers do but that should be hidden inside a t-shirt or a shirt or a saree. Whatever rolls with you!

You can wear make-up too but if you are a guy then you should not probably do that because make-up was never made for men. Amirite? But if you are a girl then go ahead, wear as much make-up as you like but it should not be too bold or too eye-catching because ‘log peeth peechche baatein karenge’. 

Girls/gals/women you can wear shorts, tank tops, long skirts, sarees, burkhas, salwar, jeans, cardboard boxes to hide your existence, but if you are molested or raped then it is probably the fault of the fact that you ate chowmein before walking out of the door. Men will be men. They cannot control their hormones because they cannot.

Boys/guys/men you can wear make-up, jeans, shirts, skirts, sarees, or anything you want, but if you are abused for your taste or shunned from your house or laughed at, then it is your fault. It is not our fault that we cannot accept anything with an open mind. It is not our fault that we expect everything to be according to our tastes. It was your fault from the very beginning because you decided to wear something not made for you. It was your fault because you decided to be someone new. It was your fault because you were not manly enough. 

If women are expected to cover themselves, then men should do the same thing too. Just as much as you do not want to see a pair of tits walking around, we do not like to see a chest full of hair and pot bellies hanging out together (both are secondary sexual characteristics, much like the beard which are trimmed and styled and flaunted).

My point is, dressing never did show sanskaars, or modesty. All dressing showed was the person’s taste in style, ranging from good to bad. Not from whore to prude. People need to stop judging other people on the basis of their clothes. We can judge people from how they treat other people, or their subordinates or their juniors or anyone as a matter of fact.

We need to stop this hypocrisy, double-standards and slut-shaming. 


The Eye of the Storm

After you say, “You painted my life red”,

Where am I supposed to go?

What am I supposed to feel?

I thought I was the sunshine,

The rainbow,

The good things in your life.

But now you term me as the eye of the storm.

Were those lies you told me?

I was like the paws of a kitten,

But now I am it’s bite.

“Everything good,

comes to an end.”

Is this quote all the truth?

I don’t think so,

Because I still believe I am everything good.

I am the sunshine,

I am the rainbow,

I am smile on a child’s face,

when it sees a balloon in the sky,

I am joy in a couple’s eyes,

after they reunite,

I am the happiness of a grandpa,

who is eating something sweet to eat,

But I am also the eye of the storm,

and if you aren’t brave to handle that,

then step aside;

I will do what I do best –


Rain, Rain Come Again

“Down by the bay, where the watermelons grow, back to my home, I dare not go. Because if I do, my mother will say, “Did you ever see a bear combing his hair?” down by the bay.

“Down by the bay, where the watermelons grow, back to my home, I dare not go. Because if I do, my mother will say, “Did you ever see a goose kissing a moose?” down by the bay.

“Down by the bay, where the watermelons grow, back to my home, I dare not go. Because if I do, my mother will say, “Did you ever see a whale with a polka dot tail?” down by the bay.”


The old nursery rhyme kept playing in her mind like an old television soap which still holds a place in the heart of the viewers.

She kept washing her bowls and dishes, all the while humming the tune of the rhyme. It had a catchy tune and she loved it as a child. Is that why my sister refuses to stop mumbling “Humpty Dumpty’? The grey sky truly represented her heart perfectly; nostalgia.

Mr. Rumpelstiltskin was in the living room playing with his ball of yarn. It was hot pink in colour. This colour made her insides squirm with rage. There are no roots of her disgust with hot pink but she knew she hated it when her ex-boyfriend gifted her a sweater of this exact same colour. Was that the reason?

The bowls and dishes were done. Time for some rest. She again glanced up at the sky – grey clouds had formed perfect swirls in the clear spruce sky.

She can still see her mother making her a cup of hot chocolate on a day like this. It used to brighten her rainy day. She warmly smiled and looked at the clock. Can I prepare the same cup? 

It took her an hour and a tin of cocoa powder to finally yield the acquired taste that her mother’s skillful hands so often made for her.

The clouds were gone. It was no problem; she was finally at peace.



Something Good

“And in that moment, I swear we were infinite.”
The Perks of Being A Wallflower

I can feel the descending pain upon me. It is heavy for me to bear. And in that moment I hear a shriek – agonizing and powerful. I was terrified yet relieved at the same time – someone was out there just like me. It was terrible to think like that but all human hearts are black.

The pain pulls me towards itself. I can feel my body going numb. Everything is dark and I do not hear any shriek. Maybe that person is no more. I close my eyes and breathe softly – the end is near and I could do nothing about it. 

But then I feel something warm brush against my hand. It was the kind of warm when a mother holds her newborn, it was the kind of warm when two lovers are embracing each other in their own sweet world, it was the kind of warm when a toddler is given a candy, it was the kind of warm when we see a comedy movie with our friends, it was the kind of warm in an amusement park. It was something to look forward to.

The warmth pulled me away from the pain and the background changed from shades of black to pure white. Everything is sanguine, we are infinite and nothing can change that fact.



The Blue Funk

“People think depression is sadness, crying or dressing in black. But people are wrong. Depression is the constant feeling of being numb.”

Her mind was a storehouse of worries weighing down her brain, eventually leading to her downfall. It is not a surprise that she gave up; from worrying to over-analyzing situations to self-doubt.

That mad despondency is to be blamed. His hard, cerulean hands reaching out to grab her by her hair. It gives off an aura – grey, lonely and inky.

The cyclamen still grows on the ledge of her window, overlooking the sky as each day passes by. It was a hasty decision to make but what would you have done if your heart was hopeless and your body a confusion?

Would you have been able to manipulate all those desolated feelings of worthlessness and darkness? It is a long journey but some are unable to complete it, some are lost in those infinite moments but some do stand brave and conquer it all.

The Peace of a Woman

“A woman who is at rest with herself has nothing to prove to others. She embraces her strengths and cheers others on with a pure heart. Her fight shines brightly, her words are seasoned with kindness, goodness and grace. She is peaceful and edifies others as she is secure her Heavenly Father’s love.” 
                                                          ~ Anonymous
If the chaos in your voice could not interfere her noiseless mind, then your sinister actions hardly matter to her.
I can gamble all my fortune to prove to you that one can indeed hear the sound of their breathing there.
Her mind is an endless tunnel of connected events. But the peace in there has more quietude than the depths of the ocean.
Her mind is divided into numerous compartments but you will feel more secluded here than you will in the basement of a horror movie.
The intricate web work of the information will make your head ache, but when all of them are viewed, one will realize the peace hiding in them; the peace in the lace work called, a woman’s mind.
Peace if the paradigm of mankind, but always found within a woman.

Rain Hugs Me Again

Let us forget all the shames

And lose ourselves in the rain;

Let us forget our sins

And lose our self in the stream,

Of dance and songs,

And the world of love.

Honey, lets dance like nobody else.

I can feel the cold water

Washing down the grief off my face.

Because all I know came

First –

the drop of purity,

Second –

the drop of peace,

And third, but not the last –

came the drop which took me.

I felt so lost

In the darkness.

I felt so tiny

In the void.

But I did feel some push behind me

And here I am in the world.

All the black nothing

Has vanished away from sight.

And I can see a happy world

With the birds chirping in.

I can hear the thunderbirds

And fear stuck me again.