Run.
As fast as you can,
I thought,
Through
The brutal forest,
My hands, Clammy,
My heart,
Unsteady,
Keep running,
I told myself,
Away from them,
My mind, Dense,
My body,
Out of breath,
Don’t stop running,
Don’t ever,
Look back.
This week’s 3WW (Three Word Wednesday) words are Brutal, Clammy and Dense.
Brutal, adjective: savagely violent, punishingly hard or uncomfortable, direct and lacking any attempt to disguise unpleasantness.
Clammy, adjective: unpleasantly damp and sticky or slimy to touch, (of air or atmosphere) damp and unpleasant.
Dense, adjective: closely compacted in substance, having the constituent parts crowded closely together, (of a person) stupid, (of a text) hard to understand because of a complexity of ideas.
Telepathic communication,
knowing glances,
partners
who don’t judge,
who (actually) give a damn,
who sticks up for you,
voluntarily
getting their hands dirty,
who knows
what to say,
when you feel worthless,
who screams that song
along with you,
and it doesn’t matter
if you both
are out of tune,
partners in crime,
comrade in arms,
that
(real) friend,
knows you better,
than you
know yourself.
This week’s Poetry 101 Rehab prompt is, Friend. I would like to dedicate this poem to all those beautiful people, who’ve given me abundant memories, sufficient to last a lifetime. Thank you, my lovely jerkfaces!
Nishad Aunty is my mom’s bestie. She is a lovable human being and a fun person to hang out with, specifically, the one that doesn’t ask too many questions about my personal life. I have stayed over at her place numerous times along with my mom. They have had their fair share of sleepovers when we used to come down from Dubai for our summer vacations.
Inadvertently, I have observed the way she treated her kids. It is funny how she had pampered both her son and daughter to a point where neither of them lifts a finger. She is a constant machine, buzzing about the house getting chores done in a jiffy. The kids just take undue advantage of her active nature, but it’s all on her. She is to be blamed for not splitting the responsibilities amongst them.
I would say that her daughter is the laziest. Even the paste on her brush needs to be present before she wakes up for school. Now, that is a tad bit too much! Here we are, talking about gender equality and this girl (who is now a fully grown woman and yet pesters her mother like a parasite) takes the cake for being a slothful monster.
Now, they are adults and the cawing never ceases at their place when the daughter flies in from Dubai (for a solid half year) and gets her mom to do EVERYTHING for her, right from her son’s diapers to the numerous breakfasts the kid discards because he is picky as hell. The son is equally competitive, he will shriek when he does not find clean innerwear before he trots off to work with a three-layered, home-packed meal. There is a line between doing things out of love for one’s children and seizing the reins of a woman’s brain!
So far, we haven’t even come to the crazy part. The husband is the fascinating creature of all. Even though he walks by the kitchen and encounters a tea pan brimming with milk on the gas stove (Mind you, about to freaking spill all over the cook-top), he coolly beckons his wife to turn off the gas! I mean, what is wrong with this man?
You can envision how his skills to do chores can be after the incident I just narrated to you. Honestly, after experiencing these events, I thank God because my dad willingly helps my mom with the household chores (like bathroom cleaning, fan dusting, taking out the trash, etc.). Sometimes, he even cooks when my mom falls ill instead of ordering take-out. (He makes the best Malabar Parathas!)
The whole idea of the #ShareTheLoad campaign is to promote gender equality and I thought it best to bring up this story, of a woman whom I love, admire and respect. Though she bends to the whims of her family, her love blinds the possibility of establishing a code of sharing the workload within the family. The kids, even after becoming grown-ups, think it is okay to squawk their mother’s name for practically everything. Because the daughter obviously faces the same issue at her place, this family accepts that it is the duty of the mother to look after everyone, putting aside her desires and dreams.
We, the generation of today, must preach the message of equality to our children, be it a daughter or a son. We have to make them realize that it is a responsibility to uphold for many more years to come. This may be the foundation to their future life, not being hazed by a primitive thought such as a woman is to be burdened with the house-hold chores and the satisfaction of the family.
“I am joining the Ariel #ShareTheLoad campaign at BlogAdda and blogging about the prejudice related to household chores being passed on to the next generation.”
Husbands can be tricky creatures, confusing even and they tend to be confused as well. It is not a joke when people say that a man changes after marriage, it is only natural that he does. The boulder of responsibility gets dumped on their shoulders and honestly, they struggle to find their place. I, happen to be a credible witness to my hubby’s monumental transformation. He is an amazing father, surprisingly, a very persistent partner. Fatherhood does that to men, I guess, which is undoubtedly impressive.
I have to hand it to him; he has been taking hits like a punching bag this past year. But with me being a woman and all that, I still remain immensely unsatisfied. I don’t think I can help it. There are about a bazillion things I would like for him to promise me on this woman’s day, but I am also glad that he quit smoking after I announced my pregnancy (Thanks to Safreen, my little chubby tubby).
Promises, Can be frivolous, Promises, Can be binding, Promises, Can be a burden, You don’t have to Overthink it, Just stand by your word.
Promise me, my “better” half that you will write to me (a simple email or a letter) at least once a month. For there is nothing more powerful than words were written down to express what you truly feel, which you cannot say out loud.
Promise me, that you will you will NEVER surprise me because you know exactly how ridiculous it feels (For the both of us).
Vow to pursue your passion for cooking for all eternity. I don’t think I am going to admit it to you, but you are a hell of a good cook. I mean, the sizzling Hyderabadi Biriyani to Spicy Mutton Kurma.
Make a promise to never stop fussing over my wounds, no matter how small it is. It makes me feel loved, it makes me feel wanted. In fact, it is better than professing your love for me.
Promise me, you won’t forget your penchant for traveling. We are yet to see the world, and Europe doesn’t cover all of it!
Promise me that we will revel in our secret jokes, using our code of satire that no one will ever comprehend!
Make me a promise, to not forget our fights over silly things only to laugh about it later.
Vow to be imperfect because perfection is a fantasy and those who choose to believe in its existence are wasting their life.
Promise me that you will be my everlasting rock, as you are now.
Promise me that we will never forget our friendship.
Promise me that you will always put your family, above all else.
“I’m blogging about the kasams I want from my man this Women’s Day with the #SadaSexy activity at BlogAdda in association with Set Wet.”
Ruminations of a Raven 