AWARD: the perfect poet award for poets rally week 79

The poetry piece Happy New Year has won the perfect poet award for poets rally week 79.
Thanks for tagging us Hyde Park Poetry

 

The post published for the Maithili: the pioneer for setting up this space is indeed well called for.
It's great to have such surprises popping up.

But this space being a common platform we can't really abide by the rules to accept and move it further.
So hereby, as the proud owner of this award here's the call for all poetess here.
Let your poet pieces flow at Darlings of Venus.

Wining Blog Post: Happy New Year
Blog giving away the award: Hyde Park Poetry

Cheers!

 

Cries...Young & Old!

"Aee......", the little girl came crying to her mother.
Loud and clear cry with no tears.
Elder brother had hit her in hide and seek game since she was making fun of him.
And she kept on crying and crying and crying with no tears.
Her mother kept pacifying her but deep down she knew her daughter.
She knew her nature and she knew no matter what she gives her now, nothign can stop her cries.
Nothing can stop her shouts.
Nothing can stop her cries.
Left alone for an hour or so she would calm and get along with the game once again.

Noted: A small incident but huge cries.

"I saw him with another girl", the words kept repeating in her mind.
:How can he cheat on me", she kept asking herself.
She had been a nice partner in all his work, humble listener for all his troubles, patient girlfriend in their stormy relationship yet she had lost it all today.
She just could not change who he really was.
A Liar! A cheater! A backstabber!
Not only was he cheating on her, also he had abused her with various allegations!
She was used and then thrown in the middle of nowhere!
She succumbed to her broken heart injuries and decided never to trust any man.

Noted: A big incident but no cries.

To err is to Human!
Yet Humans are scared to even be the natrual themselves!
Look at the small babies crying their lungs out because of hunger or wet diaper or the reason that they don't know what else to do to express they need attention and care. They cry and they cry it all out. The cries bring out all that they inside in them. Tears wash away every bit of sorrow/discomfort/pain from their inside. And they forget it all after they are done with the crying.
Grown ups don't cry. They keep everything inside them and suffer more than the original hurt. They don't want to show tears to anyone. In the process of being strong they actually make themselves weak from the inside. Pain kept with them results in suicide, grudges, depression, mental illness and what not heart disease.

 Why not cry over the hurt?
Why not cry over the injury?
Why not cry over the loss?
Why boast about fake strength?
Why pose about hopeless support?
Why not let it all out?
Why not let tears wash it all out?
Why keep the pain inside?
Why hide tears in heart?
Why not cry it all out ?

Keeping Pain inside rather than letting it out?
Is it really worth it?
Think!

Smita

Love is...

Love, Its such a small word and is such a powerful feeling.
I never knew that I had the capability to love someone so much and be loved back more than I have ever expected.

In my past, I have been in what I though was love. It wasn't, now i know that for sure.It might have been very strong attraction, a lot of like, big infatuation but not love.

Love is when someone has tears in his eyes, in front of his family and friends, on his own wedding mandap, when he saw me cry in my father's arms.

Love is when he holds my hand tight, when he knows I might breakdown anytime while bidding good-bye to my parents.

Love is, when no matter how far, he comes to pick you up despite him having prior commitments.

Love is, when he calls 10 times a day, just to make sure you aren't lonely.

Love is when he wants you to go out independently in a new city, but still subtly tells you that he is there whenever I need him.

Love is fighting and making up over a cup of coffee.

Love is, when you cough in the middle of the night and he who is lying beside you is all alert and asks "you ok? need something?"

Love is, when the kitchen shelf bangs, and he comes running in to see if I am ok.

Love is, when he tries everything in his hands to make you comfortable.

Love is when, he tries real hard to plan surprises for you.

Love is when you know that he is there.

Love is that,silent side glances while he is driving.

Love is holding hands on the car gear.

Love is, laughing over stupid jokes.

Love is, keeping each other annoying animal names.

Love is, to see him smile when he sees his lunch box.

Love is, that warm hug on a cold night.

Love is, him wrapping a blanket around you just because you were "looking" as if you were freezing to him.

Love is, that smile he has pasted on his face, when he sees you. (Such smiles are reserved only for you)

Love is when you both act stupid together.

Love is, when  he books a ticket for your parents as a surprise for you, just because you said you are missing your parents.

Love is us.

Its a great feeling be loved by the person you love.

Happy New Year !

You gave her your trust

There she was as a blogger here

Acknowledging the talent

With ideas well served.

The platform grew 

Darling of Venus was growing

You started it

Many others joined in it's showcasing.

Together we came as one

One platform for all the Darlings

Voicing our opinions 

on matters adjoining!

Thanksgiving for us is here

Congratulating you for your new journey.

Embrace a new life soon 

with all the happiness and prosperity.

P.S.: Here's wishing Maithili, person who laid the building brick for Darling of Venus, a very happy married life. Darlings it's showtime!

Smita

Suitcase of memories

                Goodbyes are never easy. Not when you are saying it to a way of life, to a lifetime of memories, to family. I am standing and staring at an important event to unravel. I have been running around shops, dropping down on the couch with all the bags, making lists of things on my mind. All without a moment to stop and wonder. Now that the day is about to descend on me, I feel the weight of it. It is more than all the bags that are packed and lying all about the house. Two decades of existence cannot be just folded into bags and carried away.

                Every girl has been given generous dose of preparation for this day. "What will you do at your inlaws house?", "Who will do this for you at your inlaws house?", "Its ok if you do all this here, will your inlaws tolerate such behavior?", every girl has heard of it enough times, if not by parents then by every nosy relative! Its known all along that a daughter has to leave the house. Yet,  nothing prepares a girl for this day. The day she has to leave her home. For me, that day is about to come.

               It feels like someone seriously played with time! It feel like just some days back I was learning to ride a bicycle. Dad kept running, holding the handle and seat so that I don't fall. I sometimes ran a wheel over his feet and although it hurt, he kept on having my back until I managed to balance myself.

              I feel terrified to think of waking up with a fever and not having Mom to run to. Of not having her constantly feel my temperature or check on me. Not having her company to indulge in paani puri. Of not being pampered by her with gifts and little goodies. Of coming home thinking of some food and not having her to keep that ready, without me telling anything about it!

              I feel armless without the little brother. The one who would be partner in crime. The one who would get me a box of erasers because I kept losing them. The one who would come all the way back from college just to receive a courier for me. The one who would say, "Don't worry. I am there, I would take the blame."

              I feel so blessed to have such a wonderful family.

              My romance with the city is about to end. Mumbai, how shall you ever go out of me!
The city that gave me multiple cultures to imbibe. The city that taught me that relations deeper than blood can be formed with people of various histories. The city where the most grass root class of people have important values to share. The city which gave me the best of friends, the best kind of exposure and the city where I came home at 12.30 am from work and still felt safe.
   
             How shall I ever say goodbye to the booksellers outside stations who get some of the best books at great deals so that the bibliophile in me is at peace? How shall I ever say goodbye to the shopkeepers who have known me over the years? How shall I ever say goodbye to the people I would drop to visit without notice and be welcomed wholeheartedly? Goodbyes are never enough!

            If only all these could be packed in suitcases!

             
            pic courtesy: inloveandwar.ca
           

             
           
             
              

Daddy and his baby

It is said that a girl is closer to her father than to her mother. 

For a daughter, a mother is an epitome of discipline, whereas, a father is like her partner in crime! 

There is special bond that a girl shares with her father; after all, he is the first man in her life. And, she is always a little princess to him. 

From infant to toddler to pre-teen to teen, a father sees the apple of his eye grow up from a little baby to a pretty woman.
From a little girl in pony tails to an elegant lady in a saree

But what happens when the time to search for her groom arrives. Dads start having the feeling of losing their gorgeous little princess overnight to some stranger who may or may not keep his angel happy. 

The mere thought of giving away his daughter to a person who he barely knows or has probably just met, starts giving him restless nights.  

From the start of seeing the groom, to the marriage preparations to the main ceremony. I am sure father's might be going through different emotions.

The excitement in his daughters eyes while shopping, the smile when she is talking to her fiance, the sad face when she doesn't get the exact shade of what she wants.
It makes him very happy as well as sad, to think that the time for her to leave him is coming nearer.

  

On the day of her marriage, all the memories from her childhood to now, even those forgotten memories flash through his life, like a photo album. 

During the Kanyadaan, father goes through a wave of emotion in this biggest moment of his and his daughter's life. That moment when its time for him to finally accept that there is going to be another man who will love her and protect her.

Silently, he wishes that this man loves, cares and protects his daughter more than daddy can does. 

When his daughter steps out of  her parents house as "Miss" to become a "Mrs" she leaves a gazillion memories in that house.

With tears in her eyes, when she turns back, she sees a man standing in the corner with sad red eyes, trying hard not to cry.
When she comes and hugs him, he doesn't see the bride, the grown up woman but he sees the little girl who used to hug him. He sees his little baby.

And a single tear rolls out from his eyes.

He is the father of the bride

Daddy's are always the daughter's first hero -Google Quote
A son is a son till he finds a wife, but a daughter is a daughter all her life-Google Quote 

Original Post: http://indiandramaqueen.blogspot.in/2014/10/daddy-and-his-baby.html
I really wanted to share this post here, since there are a lot of girls here and would understand the sentiments. 
Thanks Maithili for letting me post from my blog.

Lastly, Happy Diwali all you pretty ladies

Do Not Disturb

Some situations when people should clearly not talk to me

Scene #1

There I'm standing in a crowded train with my earphones on,dancing in my head.
Suddenly I see this lady saying something,and staring at me expecting me to react.
It seems she asked me where I burnt my hand.
I take the pain of fishing my phone out of my bag,wriggling in that crowd. Hitting pause. Removing my earphones and explain that it isn't a burn.
By then everyone around is more interested in me and staring at me like I am a freak.
Lady, Earphones stuck in the ear = Do Not Disturb Mode

Scene #2

I'm on my phone, animatedly talking or just talking, and you come and start talking to me or giving background inputs for my call.
I know what to talk, I don't need to be taught.
Like seriously,I got 2 ears and one head only. I can hear my caller and you but I can concentrate on either. Thanks to you.

Scene #3

I'm playing a game, in full concentration.
Enough Said.

Scene #4

I am in a movie hall. I want to watch the movie.
I do not want your expert tips.
I am not blind I can see, so I do not need you running commentary.
And we are in a movie hall, and that is the exact place that you decide to tell me your sob story.
Why couldn't you rant about that in the coffee shop, when you were fidgeting with your damn phone.

Scene #5

I am getting a massage. I need peace. So, keep quitet.

Scene #6

I am sleeping. I have no idea you sneaked into my room.I certainly do not want you screaming in my ears.

In all the scenes, trust me peeps I would be murdering you, if I wasn't so very nice.
Meri acchai ka fayda na uthao

A Thousand words .... !

I look and I look for a thousand views
I search and I search for a thousand questions
I desire and I desire for a thousand friends
I hope and I hope for infinite love!

I need and I need a thousand help
I give and I give a thousand selfless support
I perform and I perform a thousand jobs
I seek and I seek for a thousand multiple opportunities!

At the end

I sit and I sit to count

Count and Calculate

How successful life has been!

Peace in mind and smile at face

is what gives the soul a new peaceful start.

Smita

You Are a Girl

"This is so unladylike"
"Wear something longer, cover your legs, is this how you sit at home"
"Learn to cook, else your in laws will say parents have taught nothing to the girl"
"Why is that neckline so deep"
"Wear a salwar kameez, we are traveling by 2AC remember"
"Let your brother go, he is a boy. You cant go its 10pm already"
"She is in one of "those" days"

Are these phrases familiar?
I am a woman, I have breasts, I have a vagina. But,  that doesn't make me any less human. Does it?
Yes, I wear a bra. Doesn't mean that I expect you to judge my size.
I go through PMS, mood swings, cramps, cravings, periods every month. That doesn't make me any unpure than I was a few days back.

I get stared upon, I get whistles, I get comments, I get groped from men of varied age group.
Doesn't matter what outfit I'm in. Doesn't matter what time of the day it is. I'm like a public property.
If I wear or act like myself, and "Myself" may differ from the conceptions of different people, then I'm bound to get teased and raped. I asked for it. Just because I don't fit the bill of a "normal girl" its OK for me to be leered at.
I am a girl, I can't party alone. I have to have a male company. And not just any male company, it has to be my brother, father or husband.
I'm a characterless slut if I go out dancing with my guy friends.

A guy proposes me, I reject him. I invite him to throw acid on my and ruin my life.
I propose a guy, I an easy girl.
I stay in a urban city, travel places alone, well, according to the people staying in not-so-urban cities I must be sleeping and making out with everyone and not the "marriage material".

I get promoted. I am sleeping with my boss. I have no talent of my own, I have no achievements in my career. My only achievement is I have a vagina.
My would-be husband may have had a gazellion girlfriends, and might have visited Bangkok many times. But, if I have fallen in love when I was younger. I was a bad girl and not worthy to carry a heir of another family in my womb.

I get married. My parents have tried their best to give me everything. They provided me the best education and values. But, I couldn't give my in-laws money. I have the right to be thrown out or burnt alive.
I have a baby. I have a cute little girl. But, I should have had a son. Its only my fault that I don't have a son. Its not my husband's fault. I and my daughter deserve no home.

I lose my husband. I am coping up with his death. I deserve to be treated as a dead human too. No good dresses, no colors, no good food, no attending any functions. Yes, I have to be treated as a corpse, because I am a woman.

Why is this world like this?
Why cant a woman celebrate individuality?
Why are we women all about tits and ass only?
Why are we treated as objects?

All these talks about women's liberation, is in the end of the day just talks.
Even good educated families put their restrictions on women, to look good in the society.
From her attire to her lifestyle, nothing is her choice. Its just the society's norm.
If she tries to take  a different route, either she is tagged with some vulgar name, raped, or killed.

I hope, my daughter or my grand daughter or my great grand daughter would live in a world where she lives like herself.

Power of words.....

Words when take the form of rage

The more they pour, the more they are vague

With the sense gone long ago

The tongue wags now, with full force

There is no time to think and speak

The words banter away as they creak

Endless are the arguments that are no more sane

It is like watching the rise of bane

As words cut through hearts to keep alive the fear of hurt

It's time to wake up and throw away the rut

For no balm can soothe a bleeding heart

But those words of kindness that bind all pieces from falling apart…..