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Our moon has blood clots by Rahul Pandita – Book review

This was my first reading of the detailed account of Kashmir’s postmodern history describing the Exodus of Kashmiri Pandits from the Valley. Before this, I had read snippets in Bipin Chandra’s India since Independence and articles on the internet. Anyway, there’s not a huge amount of literature that I could find on the subject.

Our moon has blood clots.

There was always a lump sitting in my throat when I was reading this book and a stabbing pain in my heart. Rahul Pandita has done justice to his memories of home by beautifully wrapping them in a story without including any propaganda. As it’s usually the case when you read other narratives of the exodus. Sometimes the book is a bittersweet experience when the author describes his paternal and maternal home in the valley. This weaves a beautiful before-terror image of Kashmir. He mainly focuses on the brutalities and the changing relationship of Pandits with the State. It’s surely a burning agony for a person who has always faced a feeling of homelessness or anyone who sympathizes with and understands this part of the history. As Pandita says,-

“Someone who is uprooted in his mind”

I would recommend it to anyone who is interested in knowing the other side of the Kashmir state. For the liberals who have forgotten the past and are too distracted with the present. One should remember that the wounds of the past usually heal in the present and some remain sore for the lifetime. Kashmir is one such wound of India. Every coin has two faces and one should know both of them to make a judgment.

blog · Poem · poetry · Uncategorized

Cindrella

In a tale of two sisters

There came another one

Who stole their desired mister

Now going back in time

I would like to narrate this rhyme

Dad went away to a new wife

His own daughter was left in strife

In this new family rave

The other daughter became a slave

They made her wash their smelly feet

And gave her bad food to eat

She prepared tasty cake batters

Sadly she was dressed in tatters

The shoes she wore made her feet sore

The slavery conjured a great abhor

Then in the city, there was a ball

The prince was looking for a bony bride

Who can become his palace’s pride

Everyone in the city got an invite

This was a matter of great excite

Two sisters got into an ugly fight

They pulled each other’s hair

To look the best for the beautiful night

Now comes the fairy godmother

Who saw the sad Cinderella’s plight

With few Sparks and a little light

She turned her into a beautiful sight

And when she went for the night of her life

Only one thing was there in her mind

I finally got a revenge that I wanted

Without any catfight.

She danced with the prince

And this made her heart ignite

 

blog · confession · note · Uncategorized

On 13 December our National Capital Delhi hit a new high in the rape culture. We witnessed another rape and let it slide away as we sip down our every day tea. What has happened to us? Have we lost all our sympathy and empathy? Why people are still so silent? How can they be? How they don’t feel suffocated living in this world of injustice where anyone can get away with anything? Even I feel ashamed waking up so late. It took me some really alone time to reach the conclusion that the situation in our country’s capital isn’t getting any better. Do we need another huge case like ‘Nirbhaya’ to shake us out of our sleeps? Will the result of this trial be the same? It’s democracy right? So shall we expect justice this time? Will there be changes?

A 17 year old boy is old enough to rape but not old enough to be receive punishment. Why? A lot of questions at the standstill with only a few answers in our heads. Don’t you think it’s time to ask some of them to yourself and find answers to them.Why do we ignore such things? OK, not totally ignore but it just shakes us for a moment and then everything goes back to normal.Don’t you think a person’s life needs a little more attention than that. Well then who am I to blame you? I will also be the same, after this post. A trance in which I wrote it and my morning will take me out of it.( In which I leave a lot of things unsaid.)

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Meeting strangers

Travelling daily makes a wonderful experience for someone who isn’t that much into chit-chatting. You meet new people daily and in that whole crowd some faces  become familiar. Often I find myself chatting to an elderly lady or a college going student. The conversations  are not deep; they come as  a refreshing wave in the monotony of travelling alone and are almost always welcomed.

Every stranger in the masses is there with their own stories, own destinations. I travel with my own.

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The rat race

Life is a struggle.Every day we think of the ways to get out of it. We try to keep ourselves happy and sometimes nonsensically busy by doing things which are often of little importance. Every time  a trouble comes across our path we think may be next time it will all be OKAY. I just need to get through this one. But does this bandwagon of unsatisfying events in our life ever ends? Do we really get content with a setting in  our life? Does it ever comes in our heart and mind that- yes its perfect now, I don’t need anything. Will this rat race of achieving things in our life ever end?

In the end it leaves us with a very important question by a very famous author-

“How will I ever escape this labyrinth?”

blog · confession · note · Poem · poetry · quote · quotes · thought · thoughts · Uncategorized

The Reins OF My Mind

 

I feel like

 I have so many questions
 but I can’t ask them
 may be people will be offended
 if I will.
 May be they will walk away,

the reins that I have held so tight will go loose and

 I will be afloat in some dimension unknown

 May be they will be able to peep into my mind

 and know all the hidden thoughts I had about them
 and It will be all out
 I will stand in front of everyone naked and vulnerable
 and
 the walls around me will all be shattered,
 but I wont feel liberated as I am not some princess trapped in a tower.
 I will feel threatened and torn
 as my defense mechanism is also shattered with those walls
 and the pride I take in being strong will be smothered to pieces.

 

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The days and The Memories

There are days when you feel you are on cloud nine and there are the ones where you hit the the rock bottom. There are also the days when you want to pour your love on someone and then there are the one when you wish you  could unlove them because you know, sometimes it really gets difficult to hold on to them.There are days when you wish to share your life with someone and there are ones when you just want to be alone.

These days are the ones which make all our memories- happy or sad.The memories – which can give you a painful sting and a sad smile. And there also the ones which fill your hearts with ecstasy. Then there are the few forgotten ones which are remembered only when someone or something reminds you of them and you are like “oh it happened”.

The days make memories and memories live in days.Without the days there can’t be memories and without memories days will be empty.