I have been marked.

I have been marked



And not so immune,


I have been marked

By my blood cells

Constantly malfunctioning

And defenceless,


I have been marked

For I know not

How long I can bear

These blotches in red,


I have been marked


Like a reptile

Shedding skin,


I have been marked

Emotionally broken down

Cannot stand the image

That stares back at me,


I have been marked

For I know not why

And I know not how

But I wonder,


Why mark me?

Of all the people

For I had my skin alone

To love and cherish,


But it is tarnished


Bloody and itchy

Despicable to the eyes.




Pray for Gaza!


Raise your hands!

Beg. Appeal. Lament.

For the children

Ripped to shreds,

Riling up a blood bath

Feasting on the innocent

Why, Ya Allah?

So let me pray to you,

For you are Ever-Merciful


And All-Hearing,

Ya Rabil Alameen,

Heed to our pleas

Your slaves beckon to you

O! Master of the Universe,

We Pray for Gaza.


Eye of the Tiger – #IAMMARDAANI


Seena Marzook had just gotten down from her school bus near the Al-Khan road junction in Sharjah (United Arab Emirates). It was around six o’ clock in the evening and she was late due to special classes that day, and she was worried about her mother who would fret in the apartment way up in the fifteenth floor. She swiftly walked towards her building and noticed that the watchman was not there. She was so tired that all she wanted to do was to get a nap after she reached home.

She walked in front of the elevator and pressed the up arrow button and waited for a while. A random guy had just come into the building and stood next to her and she assumed that he wanted to use the elevator as well. Her eyes were droopy and her stomach grumbled for she hadn’t eaten anything since lunch break. The man kept throwing side-ways glances at her but she simply gave it into her wild imagination because she knew that she was swaying because of the weight of her school bag and the numerous ledgers he carried in her hands.

*Ding* the door of the elevator opened and she slumped forward and the man followed. There was nothing suspicious about him at all. He was dressed in a formal attire and looked like a decent fellow. She positioned her accounting ledgers on the floor of the lift and removed her bag from her thankful shoulders, placing it beside leg.

The man advanced towards her, using the whole pressing the floor button excuse, he slightly brushed his arm against hers and lighted up his floor number on the board cluttered with buttons. She was dizzy with a headache and lazily pressed her floor button.

The man fidgeted a little, much to her discomfort. After a minute or so, he thrust her on the mirror of the elevator forcefully, not letting her move. He instantly pressed the stop button and lift stopped moving. He grabbed his opportunity and ran his filthy hand beneath her skirt. She was just processing the fact that this repulsive man had his hand up her skirt and was willing her brain to give her instructions to react to the situation. She knew that she had to act quickly, her hands were twisted behind her back and he was directly in front of her. He was nauseatingly rubbing himself against her tender body. She could not get out a scream, for she was in shock that this was really happening…to her of all the people in the world.

The man desperately moaned, much to her repulsion as she tried to muster some energy and channel it towards her knee. Then she had to just act that she was into it and complied with him. He noticed that she had given in to his sexual advancement and slowly released her hands and began to do unspeakable things to her as the other hand was no under her tousled shirt. She had her chance now, both his hands were busy and that bastard was going to get her final little treat. She crashed her knee into his shins and showed him the true meaning of pain. She repeatedly kicked him in the shins and punched his nose and ribs too, just like her Sensei had taught her. He was bleeding now, and that vastly pleased her.

“I had the element of surprise on my side, you f**king bastard.” She screamed now, but he could not hear anything, for he was toppled over on the elevator floor begging her stop. Frantically, she pressed the alarm button and released the stop button all at once with her sweaty fingers. She roared into the phone, calling for that no-good watchman but she received no response. She noted the floor number that they were on and pressed the next one. She seized her bag and ledgers, rushed out of the elevator as soon as she could, but she could not help but bang the ledgers on the son of a gun before she raced for the stairs. He merely lay on the floor in a fetal position like the coward he was.

Meanwhile, she sprinted towards her apartment door, fumbling with her keys and jammed it in. She bolted the door once she was inside and noticed that it was dark. ‘Mom and Dad are not at home, thank god for that’, she thought. She tried not to think about what happened and dashed to her room and walked into the shower directly, before she did anything at all. She scrubbed off the abhorrent memory from head to toe. Even though she did tremor, an unknown feeling of contentment blanketed her as a grin crept upon her lips. A very sadistic grin at that and she balled her fists and shut her eyes for a good twenty minutes, letting the warm water work its magic.





This is written as a part of I am Mardaani activity exclusively at BlogAdda.com for Indian Bloggers.

We are luckier than we think we are.

Why complain when you have a secure home
Strong men to love you and protect you
What of those women on the other side
Bloodbathed and slayed at sight,

Struggling for a morsel of food
Attempting to cover up of what is left of them
Is there no mercy left on this planet?
Is there no one who can bring order!

Babies wailing all night , famished
Whose lives not started ,yet already finished
Mothers trying to tend to them
Even though its mere faith that keeps them alive,

Let’s raise our hands to Him
He sees what we see!
Hope and beg for Peace
For He is Merciful and All-Hearing!

My day begins in a War

Children massacred and mothers shattered
It’s not a rare sight here
I have lived with this too long
Now I have nothing to fear,

Thundering of bombs and deafening of guns
Is the lullaby at night
Living on water and bread
Seems to be my plight,

Everywhere I turn its slaughter
Is there no end?
Mourning has replaced laughter
A plea to the Lord, I send!