Weekly Poems

Welcome to the community blog of DelSlam. Here you can read truthful writings on things that matter in our lives. Share your thoughts in the comments section.

तुम्हारी उड़ान

तुम्हारी उड़ान

क्यूँ टोकता हूँ तुम्हें

ख़ुद मन की करूँक्यूँ रोकता हूँ तुम्हें

छोटी सी ही बात पर क्यूँ दबाता हूँ तुम्हें 

Being Feminine

Being Feminine

For not paying heed to their exigencies
They said this might be my worst deluge of mistakes
Not being coy enough
Not nodding  to their patriarchal rants

अपनी बेटियों को तुम मत सुनाना

अपनी बेटियों को तुम मत सुनाना

अपनी बेटियों को तुम मत सुनाना 
कहानियाँ संस्कार की
बड़े बुज़ुर्गों की राह पर चलने वाले विचार की
इन्हें मत समझाना समझौते करने के फ़ायदे
बर्दाश्त करने के तरीक़े
The blood on their hands

The blood on their hands

you don't sleep the entire night,

the first time you notice your father talk over your mother at the dining table,

she forces her words down

her throat, a museum of everything deemed less important,

Women dream

Women dream

women dream, they mutter in voices as normal as 
the lashing waves during a flood: but we don't hear them. 
We don't hear them because we are afraid
If I should have a daughter

If I should have a daughter

I would tell her to not step in a cab with unknown people

not travel alone,

not wear ripped jeans

not a poem

not a poem

This is not a poem
and today I promise you I won't use 
the honey laden similes and metaphors
on days we are meant to celebrate us
while everything inside it remains
just as empty as the day before
Chai I Made With Rotten Milk

Chai I Made With Rotten Milk

I live in a world where the scale of justice was 

tipped lower for a female for the higher societal standards 

we were meant to follow

Survivor's Guide

Survivor's Guide

How my neighbour prohibits her daughter from wearing jeans

in the name of tradition and safety ;

how my cousin is barred from touring the world

ज़्यादा कुछ नहीं चाहिए ज़िंदगी

ज़्यादा कुछ नहीं चाहिए ज़िंदगी

ज़्यादा कुछ नहीं चाहिए ज़िंदगी

बस इतना ही कि -

जन्म लेने से पहले ही मरने का खौफ़ ना हो।

Draupadi

Draupadi

बात सतयुग की है,

जब मर्यादा की लाज़-शर्म निभाने हेतु मुझे बीच बाज़ार बेच आये थे

My Mother's Silence

My Mother's Silence

My mother's silence remains clogged in her lips coloured red with blood stains
since the moment baba raped her on their suhaag raat