Tag: storytelling
VERSE | THE FAIRYTALE
A little disclaimer: This particular piece is not a critique of the institution of marriage itself, but the warped manner in which it is used to keep young women in check. To prevent them from breaking through the heavily-manned barriers created for them by society.
LISTEN TO THE POEM BEING READ AT: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZSddAaCSr/?k=1
Yes, I waited a great big while
For my knight in shining armour to arrive
To sweep me off my impatient feet
To finally enable me to start living my life
He came to our door, not on a steed
That’s the whimsical stuff of fairytales
Not really rigged for the 21st century
The rest of the story I was sure prevailed
And so he came to our house in a car
His mother and his sisters too
I dutifully served them tea and samosas
His eyes were fixed on me like glue
I tried to think of what I felt
Did he stir something in my heart
Did I feel a like-mindedness
Was he the catalyst to my big, bright start!
The only thing rolling around in my head
The only thing that I could really see
Was the freedom to do all that I couldn’t now
That sunlit pathway stretched ahead of me
I remember I smiled a little too much
He grinned like a loon right back
And so it was decided auspiciously
That we’d be married in three months stat!
The wedding was done, it was T-plus six months
And I sat at my dressing table
I looked at the face of the woman in front
Was she the euphoric lass of fables?
She looked back at me confusedly
I pretended I didn’t quite read
What her eyes were so desperately telling me
That rabbit hole was just too deep
I looked away, this wasn’t the first time
Of my inability to face the ghosts
Of broken hearts and shattered dreams
Of being deluded, of feeling lost
I had grown up believing with all my being
That my best life lay ahead
When I took on the mantle of someone’s wife
That’s what age-old tradition said
But that’s not true, I now know
When I can’t look at myself in the mirror
There are shackles anew, I’m so confused
My dreams couldn’t have been frailer
And so I wait yet again, but now
Free of mythical notions and guiles
For when I can find the courage to be
Who I am, who I really have been all this while.
VERSE | NO THANK YOU
“I love you and only you
You fill my heart in every way
I will be but a shell if you
Call it quits and leave me some day”
Said the man with the twisted lips
As he held her close, hands on her hips
He’d done this a lot and then changed gears
The words felt absurd even to his own ears.
She looked into eyes that were gleaming with fire
Was it hope, was it love, was it lustful desire?
The three entities then followed behind
As she walked into the space of her heart and her mind
There she sat them down, the judicious sleuth
And looked into their faces now lit up with truth
Hope sat there wilted, there was hardly a trace
Of sincerity and faith on its mottled face
Love was like a wraith of its radiant self
Like old dust that had drifted off of the shelf
Smouldering away in the furthest corner
With sly little tentacles sat covetous Desire
It looked at her trying to hide its true hues
But in the light of the soul that was hard to do
She lifted the heavy hands from her hips
Bestowed a smile from her beautiful lips
“I suppose I should say a heartfelt thank you
But I won’t, those words, they just don’t ring true”.
VERSE | I AM PARALYSED
LISTEN TO THE POEM BEING READ AT: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZSd8NkqMC/?k=1
I saw a man at a street vendor’s today
He was engaged in the enterprise of buying fruit
His expression was a breath short of displeased
He wanted a bargain; he planned to depart with his loot.
The air conditioned grocery store was his next stop
Where he paid three times as much for some shrivelled carrots.
I watched these transactions in the street and the store
The poor man got swindled; the rich just made more
I watched capitalism play out its gory game
But I just watched, my mouth was scotch-taped.
I saw a runner deliver food today
To someone in a swanky neighbourhood
The man came out, took his food, turned around
The rider waited a while, staying where he stood
But the man had disappeared into the embrace
Of his upmarket condo, his ultra elegant space
Discretionary income was for parties and clothes
Doling out tips was for mass market folks
I watched these Economics of One play out
But I just watched, my hands were bound.
I have seen these and many more
Unbalanced, unequal, sad acts of trade
The shiny big ones always splashed with largesse
The small, modest ones always selfishly made.
The serendipity of kindness and grace
The simplicity of a helping hand
Are like ships that we have lost at sea
Broken pieces now and then washing up on the sand.
I watch these exploits crush and agonise
But I just watch, I am paralysed.
Mahvash Mohtadullah 