I am angry. I am over that phase of disappointment and lost hopes. What I feel right now and for the last few weeks is sheer anger. I am angry at men, at women at people who walk and breathe around, angry at the beauty that is decaying and delivering molds to the very world I thought was once inspiring and driven. I am holding myself to not go American Psycho on the society. Of course my intentions are not anywhere close to materialism, but the anger and sense of unreal is overpowering. But I am not confused or sad, I am disgusted and infuriated. Several instances and uncountable moments of absolute mindlessness and swinish attitude has turned this knob on to maximum heat.
Well, this is probably the shortest, simplest and strongest one: Men. No, not the ones who disappoint me romantically (I will come on to that later), but the men you walk past every day..every single fucking day. The same men who stare the nakedness out of you, the ones who make you pull your dress a little down to cover up your thighs, the same men who are too curious to feel your breasts not caring a fig about your life. The men who in their most indecent tone ask "Sun zara, legi kya" to any random girl walking home from a regular grocery store. The same man who groped my friend long and hard enough to push her slippers on the track, which by some chance avoided her falling and being squished to death. Yes, the very men who scare you enough to not dare step out of your home past 10 without company. That every other boy who after being slept with once expects you to be his full-time-no-charge whore. The teenagers who drive a car past you when are properly clad and sharing a good laugh with your friend, and honk the daylights out of you accompanied by whistling and some pervert comments. Those middle-aged 'uncles' who while sitting in the general compartment of metro stare fascinatingly in the women's section, as if lustfully observing some alien species who are probably travelling naked. That very man to whom a two year old is an object of sexual arousal, so much so he decides on assaulting, raping and murdering her. Those guys who similarly stabbed and raped a 65 year old to death in a parking lot. And that very cult who lets these men roam around freely like there's no tomorrow. The men who are raised by patriarchal personifications of a sadist woman at her best, who teaches their sons that the more you fuck, the more manly you are . Those regional bastards who have no problem in tearing apart clothes of a young girl who sinned by walking alone on a road, not to forget they were 30, and she was alone. The men you trust and love, who ask you about who you talked to, whose car you stepped in, whose place you went, whose food you ate, whose air you breathed, you cock you sucked. Those very men who would trap you down, no matter what. Whose aim and highlight of their lives is to tie a woman on a bed on her stomach, and fuck her till she faints and surrenders. Every man who spent five more days with a woman so she could sleep with him, and then abandons her. The men who you remember, from your childhood, all of you, who probably touched you some wrong place, felt you some wrong way, showed you something inappropriate and may be even went further. Those girls who like being teased and called with indecent sexual euphemisms. Those very girls who will probably outcast you in teenage years if you haven't been approached or hit on by a guy when you were 13. Those women who so pleasantly prohibit the birth of another girl so much so, that she'd rather have the infant's fetus devoured by dogs. The guards who blame you for assault. The people who judge you for wearing slightly shorter clothes. Those very men who have no problem with jerking off in front of a five year old. The media that popularizes female sexuality by making barely clad women dance to provocative songs and declaring it as the emancipation of women and liberation from traditional bondage. The same men out of whose fear you wear that shrug over that lovely dress. The men your mother warned you against. The men you love. The men you hate. the men who still in the 21st Century expect their ideal wife to be a virgin while they fuck around all their lives. The men who stared you from top to bottom while you passed that metal detector. You are an object. You are to be fucked and trapped. They smooth talk about love, they get you to meet their mothers, they are surprised if you cannot boil water, they are angry if you've had a sexual life.
So hide. Hide those legs. Hide those arms. Hide those secrets of being a sex goddess, hide the love and hide that neck. Hide the face and hide those eyes. Get out of the room assigned to you and go to the kitchen. If not, cover up you face and silent your hopes. Silent your expectation and wear fuller clothes, talk less, tell less, breathe less, ask less. Plead more, be dumber, cry more, beg more for attention and giggle more. Or shed that strap from the shoulder and flaunt it to the man you like, because that's good, the dogs get tempted to smell of fresh steak. Salt it up and pep it up. Pull that dress over and over. Naked or covered, you are still a steak. Get married, why work. Work, get paid for bigger cups. Have babies, teach them all you were taught.
Because that's what women do. Otherwise they are pushed, rubbed, ridiculed, stomped upon, laughed at, disowned, left lonely, abandoned, surrendered, rejected and left.
So, Get Trapped.
Well, this is probably the shortest, simplest and strongest one: Men. No, not the ones who disappoint me romantically (I will come on to that later), but the men you walk past every day..every single fucking day. The same men who stare the nakedness out of you, the ones who make you pull your dress a little down to cover up your thighs, the same men who are too curious to feel your breasts not caring a fig about your life. The men who in their most indecent tone ask "Sun zara, legi kya" to any random girl walking home from a regular grocery store. The same man who groped my friend long and hard enough to push her slippers on the track, which by some chance avoided her falling and being squished to death. Yes, the very men who scare you enough to not dare step out of your home past 10 without company. That every other boy who after being slept with once expects you to be his full-time-no-charge whore. The teenagers who drive a car past you when are properly clad and sharing a good laugh with your friend, and honk the daylights out of you accompanied by whistling and some pervert comments. Those middle-aged 'uncles' who while sitting in the general compartment of metro stare fascinatingly in the women's section, as if lustfully observing some alien species who are probably travelling naked. That very man to whom a two year old is an object of sexual arousal, so much so he decides on assaulting, raping and murdering her. Those guys who similarly stabbed and raped a 65 year old to death in a parking lot. And that very cult who lets these men roam around freely like there's no tomorrow. The men who are raised by patriarchal personifications of a sadist woman at her best, who teaches their sons that the more you fuck, the more manly you are . Those regional bastards who have no problem in tearing apart clothes of a young girl who sinned by walking alone on a road, not to forget they were 30, and she was alone. The men you trust and love, who ask you about who you talked to, whose car you stepped in, whose place you went, whose food you ate, whose air you breathed, you cock you sucked. Those very men who would trap you down, no matter what. Whose aim and highlight of their lives is to tie a woman on a bed on her stomach, and fuck her till she faints and surrenders. Every man who spent five more days with a woman so she could sleep with him, and then abandons her. The men who you remember, from your childhood, all of you, who probably touched you some wrong place, felt you some wrong way, showed you something inappropriate and may be even went further. Those girls who like being teased and called with indecent sexual euphemisms. Those very girls who will probably outcast you in teenage years if you haven't been approached or hit on by a guy when you were 13. Those women who so pleasantly prohibit the birth of another girl so much so, that she'd rather have the infant's fetus devoured by dogs. The guards who blame you for assault. The people who judge you for wearing slightly shorter clothes. Those very men who have no problem with jerking off in front of a five year old. The media that popularizes female sexuality by making barely clad women dance to provocative songs and declaring it as the emancipation of women and liberation from traditional bondage. The same men out of whose fear you wear that shrug over that lovely dress. The men your mother warned you against. The men you love. The men you hate. the men who still in the 21st Century expect their ideal wife to be a virgin while they fuck around all their lives. The men who stared you from top to bottom while you passed that metal detector. You are an object. You are to be fucked and trapped. They smooth talk about love, they get you to meet their mothers, they are surprised if you cannot boil water, they are angry if you've had a sexual life.
So hide. Hide those legs. Hide those arms. Hide those secrets of being a sex goddess, hide the love and hide that neck. Hide the face and hide those eyes. Get out of the room assigned to you and go to the kitchen. If not, cover up you face and silent your hopes. Silent your expectation and wear fuller clothes, talk less, tell less, breathe less, ask less. Plead more, be dumber, cry more, beg more for attention and giggle more. Or shed that strap from the shoulder and flaunt it to the man you like, because that's good, the dogs get tempted to smell of fresh steak. Salt it up and pep it up. Pull that dress over and over. Naked or covered, you are still a steak. Get married, why work. Work, get paid for bigger cups. Have babies, teach them all you were taught.
Because that's what women do. Otherwise they are pushed, rubbed, ridiculed, stomped upon, laughed at, disowned, left lonely, abandoned, surrendered, rejected and left.
So, Get Trapped.
The last para hit me into stomach!
ReplyDeleteBrilliant!
still gives me goosebumps
ReplyDelete