To the Stranger on the Train (From the Gropophobic Girl)

 

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It’s been 15 years since we first met. I remember the day like it was yesterday. It was my first day as an undergraduate at Delhi University. I was barely 18 then, filled with excitement and nervousness about embarking on the biggest adventure of my life. I was ready to enjoy the freedom of college, realize my true potential (which was hitherto bottled up, due to the restrictions of school life), and finally spread my wings.

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The Fear of Rape (And Life)

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As a woman growing up in India, she was used to being terrified of the possibility of rape. These days, however, she encountered incidents of rape on every page of her local daily. And although she had been taking self-defence lessons most of her adult years, she found herself perpetually hounded by the fear of rape, until it imprisoned her mind and immobilized her body.

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When Two Become One

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I find comfort in pleasing everyone.

You seek solace in provoking everyone.

Yet, by some unknown twist of Fate,

I can’t please you, no matter what I do;

And you can’t provoke me,

No matter how hard you try.

 

Let’s put put an end to this madness

Once and for all!

 

Let’s fall in love, my love.

 

Let’s fall in love,

And melt all our little ironies

Into a single paradox.

Let’s give all our disagreements

One thing to agree upon.

 

Oh, come now!

 

Let’s fall in love

And walk hand in hand

Towards the evening of our lives.

‘Cause, my love, you know as well as I do,

That by some unknown twist of Fate,

You complete me,

And I complete you.

The Circle of Life

The circle of a woman’s life

Has turns at every corner,

Pointed, piercing ones at that.

At every turn, she encounters

Her past welded into her present;

The seams of her guarded future

Slowly sneaking away;

The entrances and exits miraculously merged;

Speed bumps and roadblocks strewn along the way.

Although the baffling maze

Makes her feel lost every now and then,

She can see the light

At the end of the sharp twists and dark tunnels,

Deceptive like a mirage –

Always in sight,

Yet never quite within reach.