WHY IS IT?

Why is it that anything that comes in

Takes away something precious that we have? 

Why is it that every time we choose something

We need to let go of something else? 

Why is it that when we really want something

We become ignorant about what all we already have?

Why is it that when we decide between the two

We elevate the importance of one and demean the other?

Why is it that when we lose something

Then only we get to realise what it meant to us?

Why is it that our tears decide our weakness and our laughter strength

When it's easy to laugh and difficult to cry?

Why is it that in our difficulties

We get support from people we hardly ever cared?

Why is it that we want something which we can't have

And never want what we already got?

Why is it that we tend to spend time in pleasing those for whom we hardly matter

And disrespect the feelings of the ones who matter to us?

Why is it that love is defined by the duration of stay of two people together

When the duration together doesn't necessarily mean togetherness? 

Why is it that every union

Means separation from someone else?

Why is it that to feel happy

We need to know what being unhappy is

But when we are loved

We never realise what being not loved would be like?

Draping a saree

The distance of 6 yards that I travel everyday

Reminds me of the situation I am in.

Symbolises the number of circles around me

Of people, relations and responsibilities.

Of the distance that I travel of self journey

But without covering any distance as such.

Of the circular movement

That is supposed to bring women's life to a full circle.

Of the various ways in which I need to bend, fold and adjust myself

To perfectly fit into the role I am supposed to.

Of the fact that there are things which are meant for me alone

Coz I am the sole carrier and bearer of culture in society.

And the number of identities I carry

With myself to justify that I am worth alive. 

Reading a Book

Like a book displayed in a store you distinguished me

Found my cover, title and volume interesting

Ran through my pages superficially to know me better

But all you saw were font, images and structure

And almost forgot about the content

Missing out the actual gist of me.

You thought you judged me enough like a book to buy it

And that if you happen to find out later

That I am not like you considered me to be

You would place me in a corner like a book

Never to open it again ever.

But let me tell you very precisely and clearly

Like the synopsis of the book mentioned on its cover

That like a book my soul resides in each and every word of it

Which holds my emotions, feelings, aspirations

And what I am beyond the words and sentences here and there.

Even if you get to own me like purchasing the book

Through a series of societal norms

You can only have my ownership

But not my copyright !!!!