I still feel your
Greedy eyes on me
The colour on my lips,
The kohl over my eyes
And the rose on my cheeks
Aren’t for you
They are for me
The curves of my waist
The valleys of my hips are mine
Not yours to look at and comment
What are you so proud of?
Your male parts
Your physical strength
But nothing is more powerful
Than creating a life
Men can’t do it
You call us stupid
Cussing and abusing
Your heart out
Blaming us for any slight mistake
When you make bad
Decisions and gamble all
Your money away
Or you are out of work and are
Looked after by us
And you, the so-called
Open minded ‘New Age Men’
You with foreign degrees
And high-paying jobs
You who speak of
Female empowerment
You still want wives
To stay at home
And make babies
Because you are insecure
You want servants and
Not partners to cook
For you and clean
After you
Whatever you say is
Always to be accepted
Even if you’re wrong
You are still the chauvinist
Who believes the wife is
Less intelligent than you
Even if she has the same job as you
You won’t help her out after
Both of you return home from work
You still won’t share
Your parental duties
And it all comes on the mother
You’d still prefer a baby boy
Over a girl
Would you still not support her if she
Wants a career and not a child?
Would you encourage her
And your daughter to
Follow their heart?
Would you let them make
Their own choices
And respect them?
Would you put down your daughter?
Would you make fun of her in front of her brother?
Do you even realize what you and every men
Have been doing?
Men, would you ever learn?
An Open Letter to the father who left me
‘Do you miss me?’
This is the question I often wonder to myself.
Then I answer it with ‘Obviously not!’
If you did, you wouldn’t have abandoned me or my mother.
I was 8 when mum and you divorced and it was a decision that I entirely supported.
You had married someone from your workplace without my mother’s knowledge.
So, you basically cheated on her
And you don’t realize that you did something wrong.
Even when you two were married, I rarely had both of you together because you worked at two different places.
Whenever you came to stay, it’d be for two days or at most, a week.
When I look back now, I remember the woman you married.
You made me meet her.
I remember not liking her-perhaps it was a child’s instinct.
As I grew up, mum told me about lots of complications you two had in your relationship.
When I was 17, I had felt I needed to hear your side of the story.
By that time, mum had remarried.
You never actually financially sustained mum or me.
You never took any responsibilities before or after the marriage dissolved.
Sometimes, you’d come to visit me with a completely random gift and sometimes only your sweet talk.
You were a charmer, maybe you still are
But I won’t know
Because I haven’t seen you in almost ten years
And I don’t know if I even will again.
I imagine what I’ll say to you if we ever meet.
At times, I doubt if I’d recognize you if we’re out somewhere
Would you?
You can’t be (Part 1)
You need to deconstruct yourself
You need to look into yourself
You are giving birth to another human being
It’s a responsibility
It’s a commitment
You can’t just play
At being a parent
You can’t be a father
Just because you gave birth
To a child
Whenever you want to
Every unkind action
Breaks a piece of her heart
Your daughter’s heart
Someone who wanted to look up to you
The time has passed
You lost her years ago
Realization
I am sorry that I hurt you
I understand now that I was wrong
I know that I let you down
I didn’t live up to your expectations
I didn’t take responsibilities
Won’t you forgive me?
Don’t
Just stop!
Stop saying you’re sorry.
I don’t need it now
Not after so many
Years have passed
When I haven’t seen
You for a decade
Don’t expect me to listen
To your explanations now
Don’t tell me you love me
I won’t believe you anymore
Don’t tell me to forgive you
It’s too late for that
Don’t ask me to start
This ‘father-daughter relationship’ again
It’s too much for you to ask of me
The scars you gave are here to stay.
Saviour
They were scarred forever.
Their bad memories hurt like burns and bruises.
The haunting nightmares came back every night
And made the girl scream in her sleep.
Her mother would rush to her
And together they would cry and pray
For their miseries to end
And then he came like the
Gentle breeze in blistering heat.
He came into their ruined home
Like a rain after a prolonged drought.
Like food to a hungry dog;
Like a blessing from God.
He came into their world of
Shattered dreams and broken hearts.
He helped dissolve their pent up grief.
He granted their unfulfilled wishes.
He became their reason to live
He gave them a ray of hope.
He brought a smile on their faces at the start of a new day.
He taught them to love again.
He healed the wounds given by the Satan.
Satan's evil spell was broken after all.
He was their savior.
He was their Messiah in disguise.
Their safe haven
You can’t be (Part 2)
It’s a generous deed
You’re doing
Everyone knows it
You are living with
Someone else’s child
But have you looked beyond that fact?
Have you tried to understand this
Ready-made daughter that you’ve got?
She’s not just a trophy daughter
That you show off to people
Sometimes it feels like
This was part of the
Marriage deal:
A 2 in 1 offer
An intrusion to your
Daily r
outine and
Your life
You say that you can’t
Change your ways now
You’re too old for that
You’re too easily wounded
But that’s bound
To happen with
Your sense of self
You’re never wrong
She doesn’t know
How you’ll react
Which word would get
You angry
How to look or not to look
What to say and not to say
And when one of your mood swings happen
You roam around with hurt pride
In those spells
You become a different person
So unrecognizable from how
We know you
Your doses of
Silent treatment
Doesn’t scare her now
You can be however
You want to be
Your negatives don’t
Null out your positives
You don’t have to change
But then don’t impose your
Opinions on her also
Don’t force her to change too.
Every time
Every time I say anything
The first word you say is ‘No’
Each time you react negatively
Actually, you don’t know me at all
Don’t comment on my abilities
When you haven’t known
Me well enough
You always appreciate others
In front of me
And when I achieve or want
To do the same
You don’t ever have an
Encouraging nod for me
You always do what I’ve asked
You not to but
You expect me to act exactly
According to your
Stereotypical opinions of women
And age old notions of men
Love
Because I can
I write when my words want
To fight their way into the world
I write because I
Limit myself to silence
I write when my thoughts long for a
Portal of their own
I write because my pent up
Emotions need to be vented out
I write when I wish to
I write because I can
Euphoria
A feeling so beautiful that I
Wonder if I’ve experienced it before
My heart soared
It felt lighter
I thought I could fly
Away like a helium balloon
I was filled with a kind of
Happiness that needs
Its own special word
I sieved through the word
Bank at the back of my brain
Was it euphoria?
Close, but not only that
I was ecstatic, wasn’t I?
Yes, but something more
I was giddy with happiness
A brief moment
Of genuine pleasure
Hearing your childhood
Best friend’s voice after years
Nothing’s more precious than that.
Apple of my eye
It wasn't love at first sight
I was anxious and she was apprehensive
We couldn't stand each other at all.
We used to fight every time we came near each other.
But it all changed with time.
Now, when I look back,
I can't decide when I fell truly, madly and deeply in love with her.
She reads my moods better than anyone I know.
She is beautiful.
She is soft like a massive fur ball.
Her eyes draw me towards her-like black magic.
Her voice is smooth as silk.
She is the love of my life
And I know she loves me too.
Her purr says it all.
Everything I like
Raindrops caressing my window pane
Stars that shine in my night sky
Full moon that brightens the dark
Roses showered in dew
Chocolates I devour,
That feels like heaven on Earth
Cuddling my cat
Talking to my grandparents
Hugging my mother whenever I feel like
Lying on my bed in my room
Swimming because I can float in water, it’s like flying
When there’s a power cut and classes stop at the University
When there is a strike and we get an extra day off
Shopping with mum
Eating out at my favourite food joint
Listening to a song I love on repeat
Reading a good book uninterrupted
Watching something interesting with all the time in the world
Loving the simplicity of life
Getting gifts
Surprise birthday plans
Travelling with the people I love
Going somewhere on an impulse
Eating cakes
Dressing up for Weddings
Wearing pretty clothes
Singing along my favourite song
Painting with colours
Writing my thoughts
Pretending to be happy
Princess
To him, I am his little girl.
To him, I am a doll.
To him, I am his lost princess.
To him, I am the most beautiful girl that ever lived.
To him, I am more priceless
than the most valuable thing he ever owned.
To him, I am special.
To him, I am the cleverest and the smartest.
To him, I am unique
To him, I am his funny girl.
To him, I am perfect.
To me, He is the simply the world's best dad.
Goddess of the Sky
The day begins as dark and gloomy as the night sky
Thunders clapping and lightening flashing all around.
But life goes on like it does everyday
Roads become rivers in hours
Rivers overflowing with each passing day.
Oblivious to the woes of mankind,
the Goddess of the Clouds becomes feisty
And runs a rampage on the waterworks.
She only sees the lovers' escapades in the rains.
She sees them holding hands,
She sees them steal a kiss under the umbrella.
And she smiles
And she tells the clouds to roar a little louder
Monsoon
The howling wind that bangs the window panes
The first clap of thunder
The first drop of rain
The smell of earth soaking in the rain.
The little girl selling 'Kadam phul' on the streets
When the window glass mists, and you can draw smileys on it.
When mother cooks a 'rainy day special' at home
The incessant sound of rain on my roof top
As I curl on my bed with a good book,
With a steaming cup of tea, I drink in
And watch the first downpour of Monsoon.
*'Kadam phul' is a special kind of flower that grows on large trees in my country (Bangladesh) especially in the rainy season.
Ripples in the Sun
Honey dappled leaves
Golden shimmering
Sunlight on rippling
Waves in the river
Sweet tinkling of the
Flowing river water
Bird on a tree branch
Red beak, white and black
Pebbles and stone river bank
Waves crashing on
The small rocks
Light breeze caressing
Your face
At times, a gust
Of wind blowing
Hair into your eyes
And long after
There’s still you,
Facing the river
Enjoying the bullfinch sky
Kinds of Love
‘Love’
The most used word for centuries
An emotion experienced by many,
By everyone, by humans, by animals
A universal feeling
The most misunderstood feeling
It’s everywhere
In life and in art
And there are so many kinds
Different people with their
Own different meanings
There’s a kind of love
That makes everything else blurry
You see the person you love
Through rose-tinted glass
You only see what you
Want so desperately to see
A kind of love that is biased
There’s devotional love
Where you just want to
Please your loved one
There’s melancholic love,
When you want to be sad in love
You enjoy the pain that comes
With being in love
There’s unrequited love,
That’s one-sided
When you love someone but
Fail to understand why your
‘Soul mate’ doesn’t love you back
There’s obsessive love, where
You can’t think of anyone
But the one you’re in love with
There’s young love, when
Both of you are neither old
Nor young enough to be in
Love but you can’t help it either
There’s old love---
It’s quite mature and also
Passed the test of time
It needs a little of
Compromise, a little
Of adjustment and a
Whole load of care
And compassion
There’s stubborn love,
When none of the two
Want to conform or adapt
There’s platonic love
The kind we feel for
Our friends and acquaintance
There’s a kind of warm and fuzzy love
The kind we feel for someone
We’re extremely close to
Then there’s self-less love
A pure, Sufi love that
Transcends desire,
Need and expectations