Premature Cybersex Seduction

Premature Cybersex Seduction

“I called him last night but he wouldn’t answer.”

“It all happened because of Diya. Total b****.”

“I don’t know where I went wrong Aakanshaa. I loved him so much. Am I not beautiful enough? Have I ever acted grouchy with him?”

“No babe, it’s not your fault. It’s his loss that he chose Diya over you. You deserve much better. Let bygones be bygones.”

“Medha, dinner’s ready.” A voice is heard from upstairs. Medha hangs up and walks up to the kitchen. That night, after dinner, she limps back to her room, crawls up to her bed and rolls into a ball underneath the blanket, sobbing silently feeling wrecked.

The 14 year old girl, who was “in love” with one of her classmates had just had a breach in her relationship and she thought her life lost its meaning.

A day passed. Two, five, seven, ten and so on. One fine afternoon, as she was pointlessly scrolling up and down her seemingly favorite site to keep her head off the ongoing, with as less an interest as a sleepy child kept up to complete her school assignment, a note popped up- Arvind wants to connect with you. He’s a cute looking boy she thought and tersely confirmed his connection request.

It’d almost been two weeks since her breakup. They say time heals everything and she was gradually getting out of her seclusion. A caterpillar had just metamorphosed and advanced to a new phase of its life.

“Hey there.”

(The first message laid ignored but a second came up soon after.)

“Hi, Can I talk to you for a moment? It’s important.”

“Yeah, hi”

“Thank god, you replied.”

“What is that important thing?”

……………………………………………………..

That evening, the conversation stopped there without her knowing what the important thing was. Three days later, Arvind texted her again and they started an amicable conversation. Arvind seemed to be an interesting person to talk to. Perhaps, all that Medha needed was someone or something to lift her up from the unpleasant set of circumstances that had happened to her. Perhaps there’s this innocent rage of vengeance in the early teens against anyone that hurt them and that they could replace them with the other just as good if not better. Medha was no different. She shared the same crib.

Meeting someone new, getting to know them and discovering that your preferences match and that person is the kind of someone that you wouldn’t mind expressing yourself to is always amusing, more so in the beginning. Days passed. With the break of every dawn, a pristine hope of talking to that unseen friend started creeping in.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Yes. I had a lovely dream.”

“Really? What about?”

“YOU”

A juvenile excitement of knowing about each other’s day took birth to every sun down. Talking to each other on the web was exhilarating their lives. The baited-breath wait to talk to each other online became a routine they wouldn’t afford to miss a single day and that’s how the attachment started growing stronger. Texting soon changed to sexting and all those quirky feels in her belly that she used to feel while with her ex started tickling her all over again. The texts that Arvind sent her, warmed the cockles of her heart and the sexts that he projected towards her wormed all the way to her womb. She enjoyed all of it to bits already developing a ripsnorting will to do anything and everything that he wanted/ convinced her to do. Days were sober but nights lured their internet intimacy under its cloak of darkness and simultaneously gave way to the inevitable, yet most feared.

One rainy evening, Arvind asked her to send nudes. Medha, a little taken aback, refused at first but when he fooled her for the need of a little oomph in their relationship, she assented. They say the human heart is always discontent. With the increase in demands of more nudes, Medha collected more confidence, perhaps a feel of assurance with him that he had got attached to her and wouldn’t leave her side unlike her ex. All this through, she hadn’t once seen him except on pictures, nor had he seen her, yet the intimacy. Many suns rose and many set. Then one growly night, he said-“Strip in front of me.” The excitement of seeing Arvind over the internet outweighed the requisite of having to flash herself in the webcam. Besides, he had already controlled her mind onto thinking only good of him and turning a blind eye to the red flags .She had already given all of herself to him.

She flashed the top of her underpants and the lock of hair underneath it. He demanded more and she unhooked her bra, pulled down its straps and stood there, unclad, as naked as the day she was born, with her eyes beweighing timidness and trust in equal shares. As promised, it was Arvind’s turn to show himself up in the webcam and Medha was all excited to see the ‘love’ of her life for the first time. A cute charming face, twinkling eyes, chiseled nose, and an affectionate smile as she had expected him to be about and the faith she had upon the explanation of himself got lashed down when she saw a man in his mid-thirties with creases near the corner of his eyes, bald spots on his head, dense bearded fraudulent face topping all of these with the stares from those intimidatingly hurtful eyes fixed on her unclothed body like those of a drooling rabid animal. She couldn’t utter a word. She felt a weapon clamp her throat. She couldn’t clothe herself back nor could gather the senses to turn the webcam off. She couldn’t feel the ground beneath her feet or the air roaring around her. She froze, and stood still in the realization that she had been fooled and used. Everything went pitch dark. She got blind amidst the flashing memories of her internet intimacy with Arvind and the air brought deafening silence- silent enough to hurt her ears.

Social sites have become a major hub for cyber molestation these days. Logging online in search of cyber-date, cyber-love and cybersex has been shooting up exponentially with the invasion of human brain by technology. Still and all, people fail to realize that the fancy they take to cyber pleasures can eventually mold to cyberbully and cyber assault that they might have to grapple with for the rest of their lives. What’s more, “victim blaming” remains inherent. A naïve 14 year old girl becomes friends with some random 30 year old man, unknown about his age, believing over the feigned information in his account that says he is 16. She gets conned every bit by her new friend and gets smitten by him with bells on. When their closeness soars unfurling comfort, neither the man gets second thoughts on asking her to show her flesh over the webcam, nor the juvenile feels inept to comply. And that is not terrible per se. What is, is that the whole story is nothing but fabricated with deceit, ruinous enough to cost not only her psychology but her entire life. Moreover, do you know what’s even dreadful? Still in some societies, victims especially females, of sexual assault are often blamed BY OTHERS after being raped or molested, over their thigh exposing skirts or cleavage revealing dresses. Here, in the case of cybersex seduction and assault, the victim considers likely to blame HERSELF for her supposed role in “bringing on” the assault to herself. When it’s the devil in your head aiming to hurt you, you need no evil outside to lace into you.

It’s horrifying how a young girl gets trapped into the den of some paedophilic internet abuser and tricked over to flash herself in her birthday suit for his titillation. It’s hurtful to know how girls as young as 14, who don’t even know what having an actual love affair with someone is like, are taken advantage of by some repugnant paedophilics by luring them in with a fake account. In some parts of the earth, young girls, especially those who come from poor background, are pushed into the nexus of cybersex where they are forced to perform sex acts for the arousal of customers around the globe who pay big bucks for it and watch from home online. Child rights advocates are lobbying to stop the worst possible form of child abuse while innocent children continue to get swamped with predators from all around the world. The UN and FBI suspect that there are up to 750,000 people on earth online at any one time hunting for children to exploit. There also are many reports of little boys exhibited naked over the internet, in some cases by their parents or mostly by pimps.

What forms the fertile soil for the growth of all this? For a myriad of reasons, girls especially at their early teens are being prey to premature cyber-sex seduction and a lot many instances have been seen where it is done nothing about but overlooked. Many parents are unaware of what even goes on in the online world. People need to understand that it is not only at homes, schools, public vehicles, work places or roads where girls are molested or sexually assaulted. It could also be where young girls/boys these days spend most of their leisure time at- the internet. And it’s every parent’s duty to raise their children in an environment where they are taught about optimum utilization of internet. Adolescents need to be counselled about being careful who to be friends with. One minute those sociopathic predators act like a lovesick pup love-bombing you and the next, like a rabid jackal biting on that baited hook and you won’t even realize that you’ve been manipulated through and through. These forms of cybersex molestation will keep being resistant to its remedial actions until and unless a tough and detailed policy is had on cyberbullying and cybersex assault. I am not certain if any such policy exists in our country. Online sexual predators need to be exposed, not just blocked or deleted and the victims should speak up. No one should have the audacity to say to let go and leave it behind. It’s not about vengeance. It’s about justice. With the right and the earliest steps, many young lives can be saved from predators who look for easy target to satisfy their perversions, barely bothered about the lives they are wrecking.

Extremism in Feminism

EXTREMISM IN FEMINISM
                                            -A vice in virtue

A man abuses a woman in public (well, domestic cases are still little too hidden in our country’s context) then gathers a huge crowd of bystanders to beat the crap out of that guy. “Bravo! People are being aware of harassment and abuse. Long live feminism.”
Ok now, let’s turn the table. A woman beats a man really bad in public and sure, there is seen a huge throng of people encircling the scene just as same. But, how do they react? No duh, there will be hums and whispers like “he must have abused her first” or “he must be her boozy husband” or “he’s probably caught cheating on his girlfriend” literally leaving none of those “spectators” to come forward and ask the actual reason why. Excuse me if you sense impropriety in this sentence but I have to tell the truth-"The vagina is always let off the hook, while the penis is always punished" (Anon).

Now, IS THIS FEMINISM? Few, in-fact, a lot many people around the globe understand this as it. To them, uplifting the status of women by lowering that of men is feminism. Wounding his manness to relieve her womanness in the name of defying patriarchy is feminism to them. I admit it’s undeniable that women have been subordinated by men in the society blanketed by patriarchy for ages, against which it was quite not always that the women had courage to raise a word. But, now that they are abreast of their rights and when to fight (thanks to education and awareness), they are standing against all sorts of violence over them driven by the threats of patriarchy, which is definitely reformation BUT lady, if you say you are in this reformation for the deformation of manhood, then I don’t find it very humane to support your way of putting it through because justice is not when you opine that since women have been dominated by men for a long period of time, it’s no bad to throw men some hatred and reproach now. Justice is, when you realize that if men are the reasons of violence against women, they can and ought to be a part in the revolution to end it too. To give cut-and-dried meaning, feminism as is defined is best when both women and like-minded men become equal contributors in the campaign to root out patriarchy on the grounds of gender equality and humanity.

Up until 1895, feminism meant just the state of being feminine. Later, it emerged as a social theory or political movement connoting that females should be freed of all legal and social restrictions in order to practice equality between males and females in all grounds of individual or social life. It is actually a belief that no sex is superior to other and most importantly, IT DOESN’T IN ANY CASE MEAN THAT WOMEN SHOULD RISE UP ENSURING MEN’S DOWNFALL JUST BECAUSE THE CASE WAS VICE VERSA FOR A LONG PERIOD BACK AND NOW IT’S TIME WOMEN FOUGHT BACK. I was literally so taken aback when I discovered that there are still genocidal beliefs like “kill all men” and “against men” which some extreme feminists implicate under feminism, radical feminism to be specific.  Infact, I laughed for a while. Kill all men, really? What do they think, they are immortal to rule this world alone forever or do they think a girl-girl intercourse could continue generation? Well, what bad image is the word left to uphold now?  Is it really that hard to understand that our fight is against patriarchy that subordinates women not against men? Even if we peek back at the history of feminism, it clearly states that its doctrines and ideologies are aimed at ensuring equal rights and equality to both sexes, well, ALL sexes to be precise these days. However, feminism has taken a new path these days or call it wrong turn. Admit it or not, some so-called feminists around the world have turned their beliefs into hatred and their fight against patriarchy has changed into a war of humanity. Women constantly try to pick up phony crap to blame men on a whim even at circumstances they are not to blame and duh they pride themselves for staying at the cutting edge of their victory. To them, not marrying a man and not bearing his child is the punishment he deserves. But, for what? For being born male? For being the descendant of the generation that squashed women for so long? And they name it feminism and call themselves feminists. I’d rather call them stroppy creatures giving bad name to feminism and feminists. Clearly, it’s a misled feminism, called extremism. This day approached, feminism has become a notion of threat and hatred because of ideas as mentioned earlier. People have started to believe that feminism is all and just about blaming men for women’s subordination and ruling the world by themselves. They intend to or refrain from the term because of the stigmas associated with it like feminists are man-haters, they always blame men for their suppression, while the truth is something incongruous, something totally different. In the first place, feminism and feminists haven’t set their boundary within the female group only. The fact that since the terms start with ‘femine’, people often mis-understand it as a sole female thing can’t be overlooked. But if the word “Human” ended with man and still marks both male and female then what’s wrong in starting “Feminism” with femine? For this reason, like-minded males are just as equal contributors and responsible as females in feminism. Secondly, feminism is definitely not about hating men or about isolating males and females from each other but indeed a fight against patriarchy and everything or anything that draws a being beneath the other.

You can make him fall head over heels a moment and also crash his world down to pieces the other but isn’t he also the one that makes you feel sheltered and safe in his arms when you need it most, when no one else’s sympathies, neither your best friend’s nor your guardian angel’s can stir you up but only his cuddle can soothe your bawling soul? So, dear extreme feminists, admit it you can’t boast to run the world without him backing you up. What makes you think that wife is an unpaid prostitute and motherhood is an unpaid labor? Well, if this is not defaming enough to a woman’s identity, I don’t know what is. And by defaming a woman like this, it’s silly how you still claim that you are trying to put woman’s perspective in center. Long story short, the biological dependency between male and female is not a problem, instead it’s a beautiful relation that makes a new heart beat.

Emotion is like a boomerang. It keeps coming back. Be it the affection you shower on him or the hatred you sling-shot him with, it all comes back to you just as it is. The most vivid example of this is groups like “Women against feminism”, “Men against feminism”, “Anti-feminists” etc. Feminism is not a bad word or a dominating concept except when extremism engulfs it and wrong thoughts are bred, the result of which are these groups against feminism which perceive feminism as a notion of threat. It’s distressing that modern feminists are wasting their blood and sweat over disseminating “slut-shaming” campaign rather than showing their tiny effort against rape and punishing rapists. It’s indisputable that in some parts of the world, rape culture still exists and that it should be uprooted. But here, these wise head creatures are trying to reform girl’s dresses rather than toning down the perpetrator’s euphoria in the name of killing rape culture. When are they to realize that rapists rape not the dress?

I don’t wish for a community where a guy doesn’t flirt with a girl. I don’t want a society where a guy doesn’t have to bear with his girl’s tantrums. I am a strong antagonist of radicalism and I refuse to believe that just because a girl is crying in front of that guy, it’s his fault every time and that there’s a need of tit for tat. Instead, I want a feminism that allows women to ask for sanitary pads to the retailers with as less an awkwardness as it allows men to ask for condoms. I want a feminism that allows women to discuss about the beautiful natural phenomena undergoing inside their vessel with men they like to share with and vice versa. I want a feminism that binds two sexes together, he with she and she with he, instead of the one that strives for the downfall of one by the other. I oppose radical feminism which speaks for complete isolation of men and women, so by not bearing his child, he’ll be reprimanded with the punishment of his life but I unswervingly want a feminism which ensures that a woman has right over her body, that she can make her own decisions regarding pregnancy, childbirth and family planning without pleading for her husband’s or her in laws’ permission. Most essentially, I want a feminism that provides women and men with choices, not chains. If you agree, be proud to call yourself a feminist, despite your biological construct.

Sweet little grinning stranger

SWEET LITTLE GRINNING STRANGER smile emoticon

Like all other standing passengers, I was trying to keep balanced 'cause to get a seat in public transport these days, is like a wish-come-true. There was an occupied seat beside me on which was sitting a mother with her yearling. She had a cute bonnet on her head with its lace tied to her neck. She looked warm on her mother's lap while me, a "cold-hands-and-feet-always" person, was yearning to reach home ASAP and curl up in my blanket. Suddenly I felt someone cradle my hand. It was warm. I looked down and there was that girl holding it with her soft warm fingers. Except, just in a jiffy, she threw my hand away saying it was cold (Aaachhu). I smirked and looked away. Approx two minutes later, she took the same hand she threw away in her hand and kissed it and gave me the most beautiful toothless grin I've ever seen to date. Ahh! that was heartwarming. She is barely a year old and she is yet to be taught by her parents not to talk or respond to strangers and there she was taking the chill off my hand, unknowingly. She doesn't even know me and probably by this time, she must have forgotten that she had held a stranger's hand and kissed it and made her feel warm inside and out. And I don't and can't complain too. What matters is the realization she brought me, that some days, sometimes, even a tiny gesture from a stranger wearies off your weariness and lightens up your day. You don't need to know who it is. You don't need to want to meet them again. But you just remember it as a happy moment of the day. I wanted to hug her tight, kiss her plump cheeks but the crowd won't allow any space to lean towards her so I ended up offering her a chocolate I had in my bag with a tinsy bit of reluctance for I was anxious if the mother will allow her to receive anything from a stranger. Luckily she did allow. I was all smiles on my way back. My hands had already gotten cold again but I felt warm inside. It was a warm evening. It was my sweet little grinning stranger !!!

25th April, 11:56 am

                     25^th April, 11:56 am
                                          -Fifty seconds; wish forgotten, worth remembrance

For someone like me, who prefers to be a late-night-owl than an early-cuckoo, it was a usual 8 o’ clock in the morning but with a gloomy ambiance outside when I rose up. Putting up with the morning routines, we settled in our sitting room after brunch, the four of us- Mom, Dad, my elder sister and me. Suddenly, I felt the sofa I was lounging on, tremble violently as if some giant had caught the chair’s armrest by his hand and started rocking it angrily. At first thought, I presumed it would last just for few seconds as of my previous earthquake experiences but this one felt like forever. 56 minutes past 11 and the terror started to blanket us for the whole fifty seconds. The violent shake of the ground, the awful sway of the photographs hung against the wall, falling down of them and the dread that arrived in everyone’s face in a jiffy- the memory of which still dances in front of my eyes. All that came to our mind was to lay down covering our head with our hands since our senses could not convince us enough to escape the building until Dad got up, opened the door and led us out. “This is it. This is the end. We are all but finished” were the thoughts hovering in my mind while we were inside though I was consoling “It’s ok. It’ll end now” to my elders. Soon we were out on the ground with a throng of people, all scared to death. Some had no slippers beneath their feet while some had no clothes but their towel-wrapped body. Children were screeching loudly and every people had a thin film of tear outside a dense dread of the inevitable in their eyes. Power was already out, no phone networks, and brother was not home. The continuous failing trials to reach his cell, tears flooding off my sister’s eyes and the deepening worry of mom coerced more terror. And just then a message popped in- “I am safe. Are you guys Ok?

The shake seemed to have soothed but our hearts that had shrunk into a dark quarry of terror was yet to calm down. Entering inside the house was a question never existed and in no time another seism was felt, in fact a series of seism were felt. We looked at our house from far. We watched how the seism rocked it and felt the quake at the core of our hearts. It felt like we had left behind something so dear and we were just waiting for it to collapse but be able to do nothing but watch. Thankfully, by god’s grace the unwished kept from happening. After a long moment of exploring petrified compositions in everybody’s faces, people started the arrangement for temporary settlement. Unaware of how long shall we have to reside temporarily in an open place, we moved towards the open ground with hearts sinking in terror. People continuously trying to reach their loved ones with watery eyes despite the failing networks, shaky voice of everyone singing in my ears, the black doomed sky above our head and the seism that were ambushing upon us brought us more and more distress. I wished it was a nightmare. I wished somebody would come and pinch me.

We fell into the suspicious arms of the night under the open overcast sky. The sun was visible on the horizon next dawn but we were still captivated by the terror which magnified multi-fold after another huge seism struck at around 12:55 pm. A house which was cracked by the earthquake the earlier day got obliterated by that shake right in-front of our eyes. It was unbearable; the picture of houses crumbling into bricks and dust but what was most painful was the dying hope of people. Nature had hit us with the fiercest squall, the most ferocious of its kind.

A wall-lizard might not catch a moth as promptly as how the news of the turmoil got spread across the globe. It was just then when we heard of the collapse of the tower of our pride- Dharahara. The nine storeyed tower that had been upheaving the nation’s glory for as long as the ancestors of my ancestor remembered, pulverized to chunks with hundreds of lives buried under the rubble. The durbar squares, sacred temples, churches, mosques and a defined number of monuments collapsed all at once and along with all the heritages that collapsed, fell apart a huge piece of every patriotic Nepali heart. Tears of the ragged flooded eyes of the rich. The western corner of the nation grieved and empathized over the irrevocable loss of the eastern. The whole nation was in the same boat of terror and only terror and the people inside were still in the fear that the boat might invert any unexpected moment and extinguish the remaining lives too. Days passed by but the quakes weren’t done threatening people yet. Restoring the normal lifestyle was way too far. A house that protects people from harm proved to be the cause of so and that people dreaded to enter. The rich, the ragged, the old, the infant, the noble, the commoner, the esteemed, the culprit, everybody were on street TOGETHER. The turmoil, however, was certain to take a lot to restore lives to normal which is why, it was time people stood brave and stepped forward to aid the other human in need and became each other’s support system. It was heartwarming to see that people from all around the world had already come together to help Nepal with all modest sense of humanity at this traumatic a situation. Countries were opening their healing embraces wide for us. On top of all, our Nepali brothers and sisters were going above and beyond to help each other come out of the grief over the loss and rise above the fear of unseen and never-can-be-predicted natural calamity in any way possible. The seism that took away more than 5000 lives as of the death toll of the 10^th day of the catastrophe, injured double the number of people and obliterated lakhs of houses and many physical infrastructures prompted many a rescue teams among which the biggest shout out is deserved by the security service providers that are Nepal Army, Nepal police force and Armed police force of the country. The frequent aftershocks and snowballing aftermaths were never the cue to stop for them. Even at the worst of devastation, they did not think of retreating for a second, instead, flooded all their sweat and blood in the rescue mission. Kudos! to the brave-hearts who rescued so many people alive, with no strings attached even after ten days of the massive hit.

We were gradually rebounding, rising above the grief, we all confronted and convincing ourselves of the end of the evil and cue to a new good start. No sooner than we slowly started getting back to life, had another huge wrathful seism shook the ground beneath our feet and shadowed the sky above our head on the 18^th day of the first quake. Needless to mention, life shifted back to tents and tarps and rescue and relief again. It scraped right across the earlier wound and deepened it. Nonetheless, those divine-souls working out there, days and nights for their countrymen, were stirred even more to keep up with the noble aid and dispense makeshift reliefs to the right hands. I call them the real heroes.

Calculating the aftermath, the death toll has crossed 8000 with the injured ones, more than double the number of the deads. The devastation of  Bad news is- Nothing lasts forever and the good news is- Nothing lasts forever. What has been lost can’t be redeemed but what we still have surely can be preserved. All of us have lost something really dear to us for they were not meant to be with us to eternity. Sooner or later, we have had to let go of it as it was never in our hands to bar the unforeseen. It’s just that the circumstance arose sooner to us and now, we have got no options than accepting it. However, we still have our hopes and faiths intact, which we must promise to never forsake; hope to rise again, belief to bounce back and faith to resurge. Had anyone of us ever imagined that a fallen tower that upheaved the nation’s glory for decades would unite hearts from Mechi to Mahakali? Did anyone ever think that a catastrophe would construct a thousand pillars of hope and support? Who would have imagined that the most precious asset of any nation- UNITY was to be seen this day as such beautiful an illustration? Those fifty seconds are wished forgotten but these are the reasons why they are worth remembrance. So, this is all and enough we’ve got- hopes and beliefs guided by our constructive hands.

We’ve spent our yesterdays and todays on rescue and relief. Now, it’s time to rehabilitate the rescued and the relieved on which the rescued and the relieved themselves should play a pivotal role to build themselves up physically and psychologically resilient enough to endure the hardships they might encounter in the meantime. We must stomach the minor trembles and employ ourselves to the rehabilitation and restoration mission so we can eventually tread the path towards reconstruction and rebirth. With the purpose of rehabilitation, tomorrow is the day I shall set for Bhaarta village of Makwaanpur, a hard hit district. With seven complete strangers, who have come together to help out the survivors with an earnest empathy, I will be spending a week at the village and helping them from within the best possible depth of my capacity. I wait for the sun to peep through the horizon and light my way towards the new goal. I wait for every tomorrows that will bestow blooms of restoration upon us. I wait for tomorrow to witness us rise above the turmoil that whipped us hard. I wait for tomorrow to see us live stronger and better than ever.
                                                                       
                                                                                          -to be continued…

                                                                                              

I was not crazy, just depressed

I WAS NOT CRAZY, JUST DEPRESSED..

It was hard to wake up in the morning. It was more difficult to get back to sleep if I woke up in the middle of night or at the earliest dawn. I could shut my eyes lying supine on my bed but hardly fall asleep. God knows how many nights I had spent just loitering on the balcony outside my room, not because I didn't want to sleep but for I could not fall asleep in all likelihood. Pills could have worked, had I tried to give it a shot. But, I wanted to believe on what people always say- Time heals everything, every bruise, every ail, leaving you scarred but with a hope that it would shrink gradually. Give time, calm yourself, and by and by you'll be all better.

I would not come out of my room for hours. I would not need no fresh air. I would need neither empathetic kiths nor sympathetic kins to provide me emotional solace since I had started to believe that they would do all bark but no bite to me, just all in vain. I would not let anyone in my room, let alone let myself out. People who occasionally were allowed in certainly thought of me as the meanest girl alive because either I would stay deaf-mute the whole time they tried to start a conversation or just simply ask them to let me be and leave. I still remember how I used to break down at every tiny issue just by their reminiscence, keep my emotions bottled up rather than dealt with and would just curl into a ball so helpless, so frail. Even a 60 db two people talk would be intolerant and annoy me just as a chattery crowded market. Needless to say, I had become a desirer of solitude, colossal solitide, which is clearly a full-bore wrong turn to any sane person. Waking up with heavy head and sluggish wetty eyes, eating like a bird and limping back to my room where I would sleep from afternoon till twilight, dining and then struggling to sleep all night had been a daily routine, a routine that seemed incessant, a routine that I had thought I'd have to live with my entire life.

One day, I even overheard my grand-mom talking to my mom about my emotional state- "Has your daughter gone crazy?"

Mom knew I was going through distress and that it was hard for me to unearth it. I had a mental problem and a big bunch of people outside, had a problem with that. That then led her to see a psychotherapist for me. Tricyclic antidepressant and as they said some selective serotonin inhibitors along with psychosocial therapy were which they put me under. The therapist came into my life like a god-father, like my guardian angel and shaped a completely different person out of me,that makes me who I am today. He helped me escape the dungeon I was buried into and showed me path to the way that led to a beam of hope. He resurrected my soul, revived my sloping spirit that was on the brink of collapse and instill an optimism that a little something was still there inside me, glowing, just an old yet naive rayon perhaps, for the flame certainly long snuffed out. He used to say- "What you have in your bones, the real instinct you possess, makes who you are. Often, you digress and lose that instinct, howbeit it never dies out because that thing that you feel deep in your bowels is like a boomerang that comes back one day. Might get lost along way but sure does it backfire to the place it belongs." And, the boomerang was my identity, my happy-as-a-lark-identity.

One fine morning, the second week of the therapy, he held a glass from the table and showed it to me. I was sure he was going to ask me the "Half-empty/ Half-filled" question. Instead, he asked me the weight of the glass. I guessed 50 grams, 60 grams. After a brief twitch of his lips, he pulled a chair and sat in-front of me and continued- "The weight of the glass is not what concerns you. How long you hold it for is. If I hold it for a minute, I'll feel nothing just a 10 oz glass on my hand. If I hold it for an hour, it'll hurt my hand but if I hold it for a day, it will benumb my hand, might even paralyze. The weight, although remains the same, will feel heavier if you keep holding the glass for a long duration. Stress is like a glass. The longer you hold, the deeper you feel the ache. Just as your reflex commands you to drop the glass once you start feeling the ache, make your conscience let you shed off the stress you've been holding onto for a long period of time. And by and by, every bit of your torn inside and out forgathers to the form." That example of the glass struck me real deep like it got etched inside me like a graffiti- ineraseable. That explanation fished me out of the doom and gloom which contained me for all the world and changed my life for good.

Since then I've been trying to live the real meaning of life every moment. I got all my feathers to fly and all my vigor to try. I realized that the be-all and end-all of life lies on how you choose to live it. While dealing with mental disintegrity, there's no strike-now-or-else-the-iron-cools rule. All you've got to do is pace it slow, take it simple and to the top, do not let it aggravate. Which music enthusiast doesn't know about Syd Barrett, founder member of Pink Floyd, guitarist, vocalist and composer? Which movie maniac might not have watched "A Beautiful Mind" that clearly portrays the struggle and success of mathematician, John Forbes Nash, also a Noble prize winner in Economics. Oh! not to forget, THE Robin Williams. Do I need to mention JK Rowling, author of Harry Potter to all you reading addicts out there or Sylvia Plath or Charles Dickens? All of these mega minds, despite being mentally ill, gave notable contributions to the planet in no way lesser than the wise heads in their best health. What I'm trying to put forth is that one might not be perfectly fit if we peek at the depth of their illness. But, let's spare a little time to look at the beautiful mind they've got that can mend so many things around if they get the proper treatment. If a moment of attention and affection can give them a cherishable life ahead and help them witness a bright light at the end of the tunnel, why shouldn't/don't we step ahead? Why do we treat them like a beast which if gets unchained, will hurt us? After treating a human so ruthlessly, if you tag yourself with sanity, then I am not sorry to say that you are the insanest person alive. Who do we wait for to break this chain of stigma and rediscover a whole new definition of mental illness? Do we want to be that stigma that keeps them from seeking medical help with the fear of isolation and those illogical taboos? I, from the blood-red core of my heart, step ahead to unleash the chain of stigma, rooted in our society. DO YOU??

स्तब्ध

स्तब्ध!!!

कुरा यो नौ वर्ष अघिको हो
Umm actually, दुई महिना अघिको
हुन त हिजो अस्ति भर्खर घटेको जस्तो नि लाग्छ
हैन हैन यो त एतौ कतै घतिरहेकै घटना हो

काँधमा किताबको भारि झोला
मनमा केहि नयाँ कुरा सिक्ने आतुरता
अनि आँखामा थुप्रै सजिएका सपनाहरु बोकेर
लामा लामा पाइला चाल्दै स्कूल हिडेकी मेरी साथी टक टक टक
अचानक रोकिन्छे!!
जब भित्तामा पिसाब फेरिरहेको एक अधबैसे मान्छेले
आएर समात्छ उसको हात झ्याप्प
स्तब्ध !!

मनमा अनेक त्रास तर ओठमा शब्दको अभाब
जब कुनै लाजशरम बिना त्यस व्यक्तिले आफ्नो गुप्ताङ्ग देखाउन थाल्छ
ऊ आत्तिन्छे, चिच्यौछे बचाउ बचाउ हेल्प
But her scream disappears in the silence of air
स्तब्ध  !!

सुष्मा के भयो भनी क्लास्मा मैले सोधेँ
कापेको शरीर, ज्वोरोले हन्हनिएको निधार
अनि सिधै कोअर्डीनेटरको ढोका ढकढक्याउन पुग्येउँ हामी ढक ढक
"धन्न केहि अनर्थ भएनछ, ल भैगो अब छोडिदेउ चुप लागेर बस"
उहाको जवाफ!
हामी स्तब्ध !!
The mental trauma that she went through and the fear that still eats her up when she walks that road
के त्यो अनर्थ हैन?
सायद हाम्रो कच्चा मगजले बुझेन होला उहाँको शिक्षित दिमागले जति
कि अनर्थ शब्दले त उनी दिनदहाडै बलात्कृत भै छिया छिया हुनु पो भन्दो रहेछ
अनर्थको अर्थ तेतीमै सिमित रहेछ
स्तब्ध !!

पांच वर्ष पहिला भर्खर कल्कलाउदो वैशमा प्रवेश गर्दा
मलाइ नि लाग्थ्यो ऊ त्यो केटाले मलाई फर्केर हेर्दियोस
मलाई नि हेरेर कसैले गीत गाइदियोस
मलाई नि उसले attention दियोस
तर अस्ती भर्खर बुधबार बसन्तपुरको गल्लीमा
जब एक अन्जान ठिटो ठेसृदै आएर छुन खोज्छ स्तन
and smacks me on the ass
फर्केर तेस्को कपाल समाती भुइमा पछारेपछी
अनि बल्ल पो बुझेँ मैले कि फर्किनु पर्ने त मैले पो रहेछ
attention दिने पालो त मेरो पो रहेछ

लगाऊ त लगाऊ म छ इन्चको हाइ हील्स
या लगाएर घुमुँ दर्बार मार्ग एत्रै मिनिस्कर्ट
समातेर हिडौँ साथीको हात या गरूँ उसंग अलिअलि फ्लर्ट
जीवनका यी ससाना खुशी त हुन् मेरै अधिकार
अनि किन पोल्छ तिम्रो मन जब छैन यसमा तिम्रो बिगार
यतिकैमा दीहाल्छौ social tag? कि फलानाकी छोरी त बिग्रिछ यार
स्तब्ध !!

सिकाइयो रे उनलाई छोरी नलगाउ स्कर्ट
तर भनिएनछ छोरा, do not stare at her thighs
गालि खाइन रे उनले बेस्सरी, घर अबेर आएकोमा
तर बाबाले भन्नुभो रे उसलाई – Enjoy your life son, it’s your right
स्तब्ध !!

गरि नै सकिस तैले उसको अश्मितामा प्रहार
तर कुन मुखले भन्न सकिस ए राक्षस
बस्नु पर्छ अरे ऊ चुप जब हुन्छ उसको बलात्कार
कि आइज जे गर्नु छ, शरीर मेरो मास?
स्तब्ध !!

अशिक्षितले त भने भने, तिमी त तेत्रो पढेको
कानुन शास्त्रमा विद्यावारिधी रे (हाहा)
भेट्टाएमा कुनै केटाको हात समातेर हिँडेको
आफ्नै छोरी चेलीलाइ जलाइदिञ्छ रे
स्तब्ध !!

एतै कतै कसको टी-सर्ट प्रिन्टमा देखेथेँ
I was born intelligent but education ruined me  रे
सायद कतै कतै साच्चै तेस्तो हुँदो रहेछ कि कसो है?
ल भनौँ न अब हामी कता छ खोट?
मैले लगाको हाई-हील्समा? उसले लगाको मिनी-स्कर्टमा?
उसले गरेको मकेअपमा? या उसको डान्स पार्टी जाने इच्छ्यामा?
ल खोजौँ त कतै, लेखेको पो छ कि?- Come RAPE ME
या उसको सुन्दर मुहार नै दुश्मन ठहरियो लेखेको छ कि?- Come Acid Attack me
स्तब्ध !!

या सोचौँ एकपटक हाम्रै सोँचमा पो छ कि दोष?
हुन त समानताको बिगुल फुक्दै हिँड्ने हामी,
 नारी पुरुष एक छैन कुनै भेद, सक्छ्यम दुवै उत्तिकै, उत्तिकै छ जोश (sigh)
Oh please! Give me a break

के समानताले उसको अस्तित्व माथि प्रश्न उठाएको हो?
के समानताले दिएको हो त्यो अपराधीलाई खुला समाजमा घुम्ने अधिकार?
के समानताले सिकायो उसलाई बन्न- स्तब्ध ??

अब पुग्यो झुक्दैनौँ कसै सामु
आधा आकाश ढाकेका हामी, हुदैनौँ कसैसामु स्तब्ध!!!

Eve teasing

EVE TEASING


Since the time immemorial, women have every which way, been considered frail to men to all intents and purposes either it be physically, mentally or emotionally. Perhaps, this transcending perception of ours has led to even more worsening situation of women in our social abode that thus, has automatically slouched them to more frightfulness, while, the truth being, the very women can vigorously fight back the malevolence.

To the best of our knowledge, Nepalese society is a well-known harbor of a wide range of social stigmas and problems, from petty thefts to bone-chilling aggravated assault. Amidst all the evils swaying in our society, eve-teasing is one of a dyed-in-the-wool type. Any form of iniquitous and undesirable acts or gestures vilely directed towards women to humiliate or unease them, is simply what we understand by EVE-TEASING that covers shameful acts like passing offensive comments over their body structure and the way they walk , touching and nudging them without their consent(especially in crowded areas), uttering sexually offensive sentences to them etc. Wikipedia defines eve teasing as a euphemism used in India (and sometimes other parts of South Asia including Nepal and Bangladesh for public sexual harassment of women by men, where, Eve alludes to the very first woman according to the Biblical creation story.

Back in my school, when I was a 10^th grader, we were asked to enlist any ten jutting social problems of Nepalese society. Robbery, murder, discrimination in the name of caste, religion, drug addiction were all that 95% of us came up with practically leaving none to specify Eve-teasing and NOW I wonder why. There might be societies where threats of robbery and murder don’t exist at all but name me a society where a trivial of eve-teasing is not witnessed every other day, I’ll swear off my writing fondness. God knows since how long we’ve been molested and tamped by the evils of eve-teasing. A 14 year old girl walking down the alley to her school receives offensive comments about her thighs exposed few inches below her skirt and what does she do? She runs off and sips in her sobs just like a helpless petty creature in trouble. A 24 year old woman walking her way to office encounters a bunch of street jerks who pass on explicit remarks on her body and when she tries to avoid the situation at her best, they follow her, chase her and try to touch her. What is a woman half the size of any of those junkies, quarter the strength of them and with no back up at all supposed to do then besides pretending to look down at her cellphone? “Oh yeah scoundrels, come let me show you some of my martial arts”??? In seven hells, one girl can never outdo a bunch of sturdy males. Thus, keeping it cut and dried, all she does is taking them ALL for GRANTED. A college girl standing in a crowded public vehicle gets a real bad push at her back from a 50 year old man intentionally trying to rub against her back. Poor girl doesn’t slap that man because he’s the age of her father. Poor girl doesn’t voice for her defense and dignity but utters a murmur with a narrowed glottis and swallows it within, letting it vanish somewhere deep down inside, while the incident remains etched into her memory like a nightmare forever.

Few years back, one of my friends came school feverish and trembling in all tears and when asked, she told us of how a junkie on a silent road had shown her his privates and held her hands and how she had managed to escape, in a shaky voice. We couldn’t stay put ignoring her state to pieces and swarmed to the coordinator. To our disbelief, he overlooked the situation just like that saying- Thank god! No harm occurred to her. Really? Is that what you think? The mental trauma that she went to for a whole month was no harm to her? The fear that still  eats her up when she walks that road is no harm to her? Well yeah, maybe having her clothes ripped off and having herself raped under the clear blue sky in broad daylight ravaging every pieces of her was all that you mean by HARM and maybe that would have been the only cue for you to act upon the situation. After all, it runs in our blood to act only after the scar starts bleeding rather than prior to formation of scar, isn’t it? Thank god, the cue wasn’t given.

Girls are always preached of what they should wear, how they should walk and talk, who they should keep company with and how they should ignore, JUST IGNORE the evil befalling upon them. Only if parents could spare a little time to teach their sons to respect girls, no girl like Pooja Bohora would have to write such a heart wrenching letter to the law minister with an appeal of justice. Only if parents had comprehended “TREAT GIRLS WITH THE DIGNITY THEY DESERVE” in their upbringing-golden-rules, no girl like Sita Rai would have had to commit suicide at their earliest and none of these mourning cum warning protests and candle marches would have been necessary that practically seem to reap not much positive outcomes. That said, I don’t mean to condemn all the lads. However, exhibiting some courage to stand by the side of the girl being eve-teased and apprising the teasers against their misdeed would definitely do the icing on the cake to your I-am-a-nice-lad trait, wouldn’t it?

A question to the eve-teasers -Does it give you pleasure to humiliate a girl? Do you think eve-teasing gives wings to your man-hood or something? Well, how about you go approach the girl and compliment her of her beautiful eyes or nice dress a gentleman way rather than slingshotting embarrassing remarks like foxy eyes or nice ass or sexy legs. Here, I shall be up front with you. A girl will appreciate a RANDOM guy approaching to compliment her of any of her merit rather than a WELL- ACQUAINTED fellow blowing reproachful comments to her on the very merit, out of nowhere. Long story short,EVE-TEASING DOESN’T MAKE YOU A MAN. INSTEAD, IT MAIMS YOUR MANHOOD.

Uprooting eve teasing is not as easy as taking candy from a baby. Having to deal with that every day is just as worse. You will never have a hero pop in out of the blue to your rescue when the being-eve-teased-situation goes on the loose, like we see in a lot of Bollywood movies. Well, sometimes if your fortune cookie favors, someone might just show up lest, you should count on yourself. While mapping the understanding of sexual violence and exploring its magnitude, pattern and impact, truth comes out to be saddening that less than 40% of people understand eve teasing as sexual violence, thus proving that we retain a real narrow definition of it. Eve teasing not only drives the victims to depression, fright, suicidal attempts and irredeemable loss of dignity and self-esteem but bores full-fledged negative consequences upon their families as well. Eve teasing today is a clear indication of an assault tomorrow. Not speaking a word today is inviting the dread the morrow. Not guiding your son today to respect girls is to manufacture a perpetrator tomorrow. Our laws and support system being frequently sabotaged are

no more our foundation stone. To that end, let’s vow to start from ME. Let’s break the ice from YOU. On top of the top, let’s get with the program from WE.