Born to Die??

It was like any other day. I woke up, got dressed and dragged my ass to yet another agonizing lecture on dead people. Personally Forensic science was never my forte.  I mean who likes to hang around in the mortuary for the better part of the day 😦 That day was supposed to be like any other day. We were supposed to be having a lecture on bones which I had planned to sleep through. What I didn’t know was that a single incident was going to change my outlook on life forever.

Halfway through the lecture we were told that there was a very special case for postmortem that day and that we shouldn’t miss it. Happy that I won’t have to suffer the boredom of a lecture theater I all but skipped to the postmortem house. 

Instead of a body there lay a small bundle wrapped in an old blanket. There was buzzing all around, students trying to figure out what it was that we were going to witness. Finally the blanket was removed. There lay a small girl, barely two days old with bruises covering her face and neck.  A collective gasp resounded in the room. 

The whole thing was supposed to be the highlight of our term since very few people got to witness this. It would help us to understand what we read in the books better but none of these thoughts could remove the ache that was forming in my chest. The harsh reality that female infanticide did exist hit me hard. Reading about it in the news never made this more real than it was at that moment.

What had that poor girl done to anyone? Should she be killed this mercilessly just because she was a girl?

As time passed we learnt how her parents had wrapped her up in a blanket just one day after she was born and then dumped her at a secluded place to die. She died of hunger and cold. Damn she was even attacked by the dogs, hence the bruises. She was born alive there was no doubt of it. Her parents didn’t want her so they took care of the situation the old way.

How can people be so heartless? How is it possible for a mother to murder her child whom she nurtured in her womb for nine months? I can’t begin to understand the reasons behind this cruelty. 

We need to take a stand. Female infanticide is a crime and just not humane. To fight this we must join hands. Talk to the people you know, create awareness and if you see such a thing happening around you, inform the authorities. Search your soul and tell me-

“Was she really born to die?”

Addicted to Love

Love is a dangerous thing. The whole concept of “love addiction” seemed impossible to me until last week when I read a newspaper article on the same.Love addiction is just when someone is addicted to the feeling of being in love, as if it was the reason why we are alive and breathing. The more I read, the more I realized how much those words were applicable to me. It was like they were trying to describe me and it left me feeling miserable.

 I accept I have a few insecurities and abandonment issues but this was something I wasn’t prepared for. It was the first time I realized that all this time I was settling for less than what I deserved just because I was scared of being alone.  I just had to be with someone; to feel loved and while I was having these emotions I hurt myself more than I could have ever imagined.

I trusted the wrong people, sacrificed my needs and desires for someone who didn’t deserve it. I even changed myself. Maybe I’m a hopeless romantic who wishes to be swept off her feet but romance isn’t supposed to push you into depression.

I don’t want to fall in love with someone for the wrong reasons. I deserve to find true love and I don’t think I will unless I get over this overwhelming need of mine to be with someone just for the sake of it.

I’ve heard they have support groups for this too but I guess talking to family and friends would do just fine. I guess now that I’m aware of where I went wrong I can probably get over this problem. Hopefully One day I shall find the person who would love me for me.

Raising Your Voice

I guess us women have been silently suffering for too long..time to raise our voice..

PSEUDOMONAZ

A girl aged 11, on her way to attend her cousin’s wedding, sat next to the driver in an overcrowded jeep. The driver drove the jeep with his right hand while keeping the left one on her thighs. She felt uneasy but didn’t know what was wrong. It was only when she grew up she realized what he did  and she hated herself for letting that happen, for not raising her voice. Memories of that day still haunt her.

She turned 18, and was on her way to college in a bus, when a man nearly in his fifties, sat next to her and started asking her about the city. She politely answered his questions. But after few minutes, the same man kept his hand on her thighs. Memories of the jeep driver came seeping into her mind. She was scared, while he kept touching her. In a low voice she asked him to…

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The Wait

She stood there alone, unfazed by the storm around her. The cold of the pouring rain seeped right through the thin fabric covering her body sending chills up her spine. But she refused to move.

No…she will not move until he returned.

He had to come. He had said so in the last letter he wrote to her. It was their daughter’s first birthday and he promised he’d come.

It had been hours but she kept standing at her doorstep, her eyes glued to the corner of the street looking; waiting for the familiar car to turn up miraculously. They had been having some problems recently but she loved him. She wanted to make it up to him, to apologise for all the times they had fought. She wanted to make a new beginning.

Suddenly she felt a movement in her peripheral vision. She squinted trying to see through her tear filled eyes. It was Brent, he was her husband’s best friend. He held a gift package and a letter in his hands. The sudden realisation that her husband was not going to come hit her hard, he had sent Brent instead to deliver the package.

She stood up calm and poised, refusing to break down in front of this stranger.

He handed over the contents in his hands without a word. She looked down at the box. Yes, it was from her husband. She turned to the letter and froze.

It wasn’t from her husband, it had the army seal on it. She opened the letter with shaking hands.

Three words and she broke down with heart breaking sobs.

Three words and she knew her world will never be the same.

Three words….

Killed in action.

p.s. This is the first time I’m trying to write a prose so please bear with me 🙂

A Song for a Broken Heart

Suddenly you say you’re leaving,

Suddenly our love means nothing at all;

I wonder why you didn’t tell me sooner,

Give me a warning to break my fall.

Now you tell me we’ve got nothing left,

Swear that she loves you more than I;

You say that my pleads don’t work on you,

And blame that my tears are but a lie.

What can I say to make you stay,

What can I say to make you mine;

All I can do is watch you leave,

And soothe my heart that I’ll be fine.

There will be no more crying for you,

My tears have all run dry;

I will survive without you here,

This is our last goodbye.