I’m 28.3 years old,Yes, the age that many of them consider as pretty old,Probably the age when you’re expected to have a board around your neck that reads ‘Sold’
I know of people, who worry a lot, When the scale of their age slides slightly to the right, but Guess what?I’m actually really happy.You know why? Let me explain it to you!
Because, I’ve crossed the baby days when ‘milk mustache’ mattered,I’m done with the toddler stage, when I thought that the shells I find in the shore are from the mermaids.I’m not in preschool, when all that mattered was the decals stickers on my bedroom walls,And, also I’m not in high school, when bullying was the most terrible thing,
I’m not a teen anymore;Those were the days I thought,People have the heart made of gold,And, I can trust someone who’d smile like a sun,You know those teenage-teeny thing are all outdone.
I’ve traversed the young adult stage when I thought roses burst in rainbow colors,When I thought love was all about Romeo and Juliet,And, life is like a lantern that floats in the sky, And, my soulmate was that guy with bright green eyes.
I’m not 20 year old to mellow down and ask ‘Ah.. May I’I’d now shout like thunder and ask ‘Excuse me’ I need extra ketchup please.
I’m not 21 to cry when my plants have yellow spots,But, hey, sorrows and concerns are always tightening the knots.
I’m not 22 to make a wish with dandelion, Or to pray with one of my eyelashes on my knuckles, I’m so damn done with the customer care calls that I just slap them with a ‘I’m not interested’
I’m not 23 anymore to stay in love with the wrong kinda guy,I’m not 24 to constantly have doubts about my own abilities,I’m 28.3 – who knows that success will never wait for you with arms spread wide,
When I was 25, I risked my life for that one person, whom I cared a lot about, But now, I go out with someone I’m interested, share the food bill, and then take a selfie with a pout,
When I was 26, Guilt and regret swirled inside my belly,When I was 27, I slowly learned to shut the echoes of the Memories that are best forgotten,
Now that I’m 28.3,
I easily shut everything down, ignore life and take a long nap,I’m a literature fanatic but let’s just say I’m still a Harry Potter fan, does that sound dramatic?I now delete the pathetic evidences that I’ve left on Facebook, And, I know I can survive another heart break, just like the previous one.I know that life, is just a pair of tectonic plates, that shifts at times,
I’m bold, and reckless,But, you might call me a bitch and characterless.
I’m finally who I’m supposed to be,I know that life is a play of emotions – joy, happiness, hatred, love and longing,Life’s too short to just exist, I chose to live where I felt a sense of belonging.
– Kavipriya Moorthy
Last Wednesday, a colleague of mine came to my bay and handed over his wedding card with a hint of blush on his face. “Please do come” he said. A cute card it was, mustard yellow in color. With a modern art of lord Ganesha in one corner and a cute ‘holding hands’ clip-art icon between their names and red font and all that. The border had gold lace.
The other colleague I share my bay with asked “Hey! Why aren’t you settled yet?” and that’s not just a casual question you know, it is the usual questions that we hear once in a few days. I smiled, and I said the casual/usual lie “Horoscope issues. Astrology. Next year for sure!”
It reminded me of a few people I met in this course of ‘what’s called as life’
I thought first of Aarthi who needs permission to step out of the home, to buy a nice Saree of her choice, to call me and say a Hi. Once, very slowly, she whispered to me over the phone “See what marriage did to me?”
And, it also reminded me of Aishwarya, who is now incapable of making any decisions of her own. And, also about Ajay who regrets getting married every single day of his life. I thought about Anand and Anita who started to ignore the issues because that’s the best thing to do, and are now ignoring each other and are strangers under the same roof. And, the society says that they are all married with a capital M.
Whatever happened to ‘love’ and what happened to love means making the other person happy? I only see couples who make each other’s life miserable, who are egoistic and call it ‘reality’
I thought that the love and marriage that I witness in the books and movies are true. That fairy tale is indeed true. It’s about books, wine, and cheese, and Friday-night dinners. But, everything now, is completely materialized. Looks like some kind of spell. Because, they want their kids in international schools and they’ve booked the 16th floor in Estancia away from Chennai on EMI.
Bibhu and Balaji hurt each other and refrain from forgiving every single day.
Charan and Charvi thought that there’s more between them than friendship and got married, but, you know what? Charan fell a little bit in love with someone else and left. I don’t know what happened to them being hopelessly in love.
They’re all waiting for a small spot of light called hope in the darkness. Waiting for something to bring a spark their relationship and for something that would make it all work. And, the society says, they are married and settled.
Why should we sleep with a stranger every day and call it a marriage? This to me is beyond the logic and reasoning.
Dharun did a heap of things to prove that he’s in love with Divya. But, Divya was very clear. We cannot help whom we fall in love with, do we?
And Easha and Emraan have mastered the art of fighting. They make me feel like it’s the end of the world.
Farzana cries every day. She says to me, that she’s fine. She’s crying but she’s fine.
Gayathri has got many talents but keeping an affair secretive, is definitely not one among them. Harish did find a match on tinder but his parents wanted it only from a matrimonial website. So he married someone of their choice and fantasized his tinder date, every single night.
We’re all running to either find a relationship or from a relationship, as if we’ve got no time to lose. Aren’t we all kidding ourselves enough about ‘made for each other’ and ‘soul mates’ and ‘happily ever after’
I was wondering why Ishaan had to kiss a stranger behind the bars but only until Jitha confessed that it’s okay and that they are sexually incompatible.
And Kirthi filed a divorce because unsuccessful pregnancies, Lina did and called him a psychopath, Minu’s husband said he’s done with her emotional blackmails.
There was this guy who asked if i’m ‘pure’ because he said his decision is based on the state of this ‘virginity’ that doesn’t exist. And, then, another wanted me to quit my job and stand in his beautiful bungalow, wave him bye, and wait for him to return with my cheeks pressed against the glass of his balcony doors. I’ve met men who wanted to reduce me like the ash from their cigarette.
What’s love? Just a figment of imagination? Or are good people just a mirage?
No. I don’t want to be humiliated. I don’t want to hold my hand to my mouth and cry so that my 5yo child doesn’t get terrified. I don’t want to wake up half past four and say ‘this isn’t working out’ and I don’t want to burst into tears when we are signing the contract papers of freedom. And, no, I don’t want to fake orgasms.
I don’t know if I’d find the man of my life but I do know that I shouldn’t get married because I’m in my late 20s.
I don’t know if I’d have beautiful kids but I do know that I shouldn’t get married because my biological clock is ticking.
I don’t know if I’d fall in love but I do know that settled is not equal to marriage.
P.S – The names used in this blog post are all fictitious. I used Google for common names in India.
P.S 1 – #NotAllMen #NotAllWomen #NotAllRelationships #NotAllCouples and please feel free to include other hashtags that you’d require that would help you to refrain from leaving a “How can you generalize and write such a post,” comment. Thanks!
It was when I lost my innocence, That everything else made perfect sense.
That I was a result of a random affair, And, I’m being cursed now, how is that even fair?
Something that sparked between the old flames, But, why should I carry the burden and be blamed.
How would I even explain you the pain, To be the walking embodiment of what’s called as shame.
To what do I owe this honor? I’ve got to live with a misnomer.
I try to endure this with great fortitude, But the neighborhood says, “like your mother, you’d become a prostitute,”
I feel like I’m drowning in a bottomless pond, I don’t even know what’s father-daughter bond? Oh, when I call him, he never responds. Can someone change my life with a magical wand?
My tears don’t wash away my sorrows, But, it hurts to know that my initials are to be borrowed.
And people forget to see what’s beneath my skin, Their comments that brings tears to the brim,
None understood my grief, Can I live a different life for at least a short brief?
I just want to go nowhere, Away from this world that spells not of affair. Dear God, let me please disappear, The opinions and judgements – oh, I don’t want to adhere.
— Kavipriya Moorthy
“I need a baby. That’s all I’m asking. I’d lead my whole life taking care of the kid. He can do all that he wants, I wouldn’t care,” she said and terror slammed into me.
The above is one sentence from a 4 hour phone call I had with a woman who is in a married-relationship that’s so wrong and has no way out for various reasons.
I hear something similar from many. Those who are in a relationship that they don’t want but are forced to stay for reasons that one can have no say about. “I need a job, I’ll be happy then. I’ll stay hours together without him and without his thoughts,” said another. “I talk no more 200 words at home. I just hate her! I watch series and read books to while my time,” said a guy-friend of mine who’s separated because divorce is not an option in his family.
This made me realize that people really think that there’s a fix for an unhappy relationship but WHAT fixes is what they’ve got it all wrong. So, here I am, writing in pain, because, this goes to many friends of mine.
Issues in a relationship pile up – one on top of the other, as days go, they create a void that sits at the center of the relationship. It empties you and the other. These issues are like wearing wet socks, none will know but you will suffer, it’s going to hurt you again and again and again in various forms.
Not talking about it doesn’t equate it to becoming vanishingly-small. It’s just going to add more skeletons in your closet.
First – Hey you, stop burying your head in the sand like an ostrich. DEAL WITH IT.
Second – STRIP. Strip the issue for clarity. Talk about the bald facts involved. It could be his family, or lack of sex, or not having personal space, or not letting the other dress the way they like, or kids.
Most importantly, don’t involve other people in your issues – none on Earth ever has the knowledge about your relationship more than you two.
I’m thoroughly against relationships that involve physical abuse, infidelity, and other undeniable issues. I’d rather wish that they part away than stay put. But, when it is not that and when it can be worked upon, all it takes is some efforts.
Two different people who grew up in different environments, culture, and mindset and way of life start traveling together from a said point, and each having expectations of how the other’s past should have been and how the person should act/react/behave from day one is totally insane to me. What’s a relationship if you’re not ready to accept the differences? How can one force a reserved person to change themselves and become an extrovert because MARRIED? – just an example. This is the major issue that I find between couples I know of. Difference of opinions and forcing the other person to change like a clay-made-doll. One phrase for you – suck it up! Don’t expect the other person to change even their Facebook DP, it’s their freaking choice. Compromise would make life better but compromising to an extent where the other completely loses their individuality is insane.
Issue in a relationship is not constipation to take a pill and relax and pray that you’d be fine. Invest a lot of time, stay empathetic and understand what it takes to be the receiver, cherish the differences and give each other the personal space, and to a few men out there, please keep sexism away.
What’s worse than death is a relationship that’s killing a person EVERY SINGLE DAY.
Don’t find a job or have kids so that you can while away from these issues. It is better to face it once for all, fix it properly. Let love be the reason and glue, not kids or financial dependency. Yes, we are all puzzles ourselves and are very intricate to decipher, but I suppose it’s all worth it. The more you procrastinate dealing with it, the more ‘numb’ pills are swallowed by both of you!
When you’re older and when you’re attempting to make sense of the shattered pieces of your life – I wish, REGRET is not the only word that flashes. Take a step towards fixing your relationship, NOW!
*An imaginary conversation between those who were raped in India and killed/committed suicide/died as the treatment at the hospital didn’t save them*
“I was traveling alone in the night with just one friend in a private bus. Maybe, it was my mistake,” Jyoti Singh (Nirbhaya) kick-started the conversation.
“Yeah, I was so stupid to visit the Shakti Mills, Man. I shouldn’t have. Damn!” added the one sitting next to her, caressing her shoulders.
“Maybe the soft plumpness of my breasts or the scarlet lipstick provoked them to do,” Jyoti Singh said.
“My sister was a child, she was yet to develop full-grown breasts, and we’ve both had no opportunity to touch lipsticks, but was still raped and hanged,” said the 14 and 16-year-old sisters wiping away their tears.
“Hahahaha, I was 71 when I was raped.” the grandma rolled her eyes. “I was nothing. I was not beautiful. No lipsticks, hair color or whatever you young chicks do,”
“I was wearing a burkha, dude. My face was also covered. I’m not sure what provoked them,” fumed the lady.
“I’m an American. I was raped in your country.” One said, with a tight fake frown. “They’d rape any woman, no matter what!”
“Well, I was a newborn when I was raped,” said the child. “They just want a hole, apparently!”
“True that. I was raped and killed too,” said the guy and took a deep breath.
“I am neither a woman nor a man – transgender, but, you know what happens to us, right?” sighed, the other.
Why would you want to disperse the blame between the rapist and the victim?
Why is the heart inside your chest so completely numb?
The way she/he left the world – is a shame to you, me and the society.
And, you think by discussing the victim’s clothes, you’d uncover a great grand mystery?
A human with flesh, soul, and a purpose to live was forced to breathe their last.
How can you see a motionless body and find reasons to blame the soul that was residing in it?
What’s interesting in the search for a blemish of imperfection on the deceased?
Your curiosity hits a new high whenever a new rape case clouds the television screen – To what the dead owe this shame?
For you, a person raped is just another Facebook update or a tweet.
You’d share another funny meme in an hour, order a deep dish pizza, and grab a cold beer.
While her family’s eyes are growing heavy with your comments and they struggle to blink away that pain.
There can be only one reason for ‘rape’ – Mentality of the person committing the crime.
Stop blaming the victim.
Stop dispersing the blame.
— Kavipriya Moorthy
I always pick souvenirs wherever I travel and most of them would probably be handmade. There’s a desi touch in handmade stuff, and that makes my souvenirs adorable and is always remembered. I’ve always wondered what are the specific handmade items that I’d find in places that I’ve not visited as yet. I always wanted to get them. And, BAM! Stumbled upon http://directcreate.com/ and I’m loving the website.
The website has details that are more than transparent – it brings together those who make handmade products, the designers, mediating collaborators and last but not least – most of us who love to spend our money on products that makes our soul happy, the buyers.
How amazing is that to find who made the product that you’re about to own? I was really thrilled about the very idea!
I should confess that I loved their blog – http://blog.directcreate.com/ more than the shopping experience, and seriously, the site gave me travel goals.
There are a lot of products that you can buy from them – a clean website categorized accordingly. Browse through https://shop.directcreate.com/lifestyle/decor and give a makeover to your lifestyle and home. There are so many products for Men, Women and indoor items. And, the best part yet? The products are absolutely good in quality and the price, so pocket friendly.
I received a beautiful notebook (blame the notebook fetish in me) – I so love the matte finish cover that’s neither hard bound nor softbound – it is so good that I keep staring at it. I also received a cute little multipurpose box and a pencil that I love. Here’s a picture of it.
So, visit the website, buy your favorite and leave a comment on what you purchased and how’d you liked it.
Blood trickled between my legs,
‘She’s ready for marriage,’ announced my mother.
I was married, within a few months,
She pulled me by my arms,
‘Do whatever he wants you to do, never say no, let him do anything, you just be quiet, alright?’ said my mom.
She claimed that it’s sex education.
And, there, he entered,
His lust filled zombie eyes gazed down at me,
He pushed me on to the bed,
Ripped me off my clothes,
He stood, rubbing himself,
He threw sloppy kisses all over my face,
A scream started to rise in my chest,
It erupted as a strangled gasp,
But, my mother’s words ‘Never shout or scream,’
Kept me from yelling loud,
His thighs against my open legs,
I squirmed beneath his still hips,
His hand squeezing my left breast,
His teeth biting my nipples,
He thrust hard into me,
Again and again and again,
I could feel nothing but pain, Unbearable pain.
How do I communicate this pain? I’m informed not to,
They’d call this ‘privacy’ to even discuss,
They’d undermine my hurt,
A flood of tears fell from my eyes,
He was done,
He rolled over next to me,
He didn’t care to look at my face.
I took a breath,
I grip the edges of the bed,
Gather myself to get up,
A sharp pain shoots up all over me,
Blood trickled between my legs.
— Kavipriya Moorthy
Being a writer is about ‘typing’ a lot but still we use a ‘pen’ to denote the ‘writer’ in a person. As a writer myself, I yearn to own stationery stuff. I love post-its, pens, notebooks that are cute, and journals. So, I somehow stumbled upon this brand new website – http://www.matrikas.co.in/
A website that felt so ‘ethnic’ at first sight. I found the red journal with a feather denoting a ‘writer’ and this journal is so far one of the best. I don’t usually write on beautiful journals, I just keep them and admire. This journal’s title itself is ‘write’ and so I penned down my recent micro-fiction on it. It is a hardcover journal with a few adult-coloring pages between pages to keep you stress free and also, a few sheets of stickers that one could use to make their journaling experience interesting.
I love the quality of the journal. More than enough pages, a hardcover bound, an elastic that prevents dog-ears or other usual slight damages that could happen to a notebook.
You can find more details about them on their website, and other social networking sites. Their products are also available on amazon.
Check them out, choose a diary/journal and leave a comment about it.