Daily Meditation

Oh God, 
Let my thoughts dower seeds-fertile and bounteous
Let my soul express a devotion-intense and tenacious

Oh God,
Let my actions reflect a faith-resolute and proven
Let my body sheathe a temple-pure and open

Oh God,
Let my words flow like a prayer-tender and healing
Let my heart be the Heaven’s abode-gracious and forgiving

Aye, nowhere else but in me You dwell
Thence solemnly I vow to be well

Amen.

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His Beloved Olivia

A tiny puff of wind
covertly breezed into the room
and elicited a little squirm, rhythmed
from beloved Olivia in full bloom

His tempted tongue, quivering
unfurled her moist nether lips in heat
she moaned, her arched hips wriggling
Holy! What a treat!

He thrust inside with pleasure
gently circling her pink pearl, aroused
so sultry was his muse’s gesture
it left him in utter wows

He fondled, kissed and licked her
savouring the juices nectarean
He sucked over and over
revelling in that one moment utopian

The intensity of her sensations heightened
till she pressed herself against her bourgeois
He captured the glow in her face, enlightened
as she finally let out an ecstatic ‘Ahh’

International Women’s Day

Hello gorgeous bloggers, 

Today is International Women’s Day and I would like to seize this opportunity to shed some light on a few pressing issues surrounding women. To begin with, what is a ‘woman’? How do we define a ‘woman’? The dictionary would eruditely explain us that a woman is a female human being. Oh, did I hear it right? Yes. A human being. Not a piece of flesh. If truth be told, a woman is worth more than a slice of ham and two lumps of fat on her chest. And I’m sorry to say that she is not a baby-producing machine either. She is a human being. She has a mind of her own. She has desires. She has aspirations and goals. She wants to be accepted-not because of her big eyes or large hips, but because of her thoughts, her energy and her abilities. Everyone, in developed countries and developing ones alike, is talking about women’s empowerment, women’s emancipation and gender equality. They are beautiful words that sound good to the ears. I don’t deny it. Indeed, they look good on paper as well; and I swear it will fetch you a couple of marks if you mention them somewhere in exams. But do we actually walk the talk? Are our women really liberated at home? Do they enjoy equal rights at their workplace? For all the optimistic person that I am, I don’t think so. 

Women are still shamed and criticized in this 21st century. They are still perceived to be the weaker sex in society. Their potential is still oppressed by bogus traditions and spurious beliefs. They are still seen as sexual objects. You don’t believe it? Let me give you a couple of eye-opening examples. Just flip through a fashion magazine, turn on the television or listen to the lyrics of popular songs and unfortunately, you will quickly find a common theme: the sexualisation of women. In advertisements, the exposure of women’s bodies occurs about four times as often compared to men’s bodies. The term “sex sells” has begun to cross the boundaries to where we are witnessing sex influence on every product that we are purchasing from alcohol, beauty supplies, groceries to even banking services. Have you ever wondered what correlation, if any, there is between a banking product and a woman’s body? Does that make sense to you? For me, it does not. 

Wait. It does not end here. In many parts of the world, women are traded most commonly for the purpose of sexual slavery and forced labour. As disgusting as it seems, in many Islamic States, captured women are sold in slave markets and at auctions. Are women just a dime’s worth? Not to mention, at work, they rarely escape from the dirty, lustful gaze of their superiors who trick those poor souls into sleeping with them for promotions and career advancement options. Everywhere, practically everywhere, women’s bodies are designated as property that can be evaluated, looked at and touched at the impulse of men’s desire. On top of that, if current trend continues, almost 16 million girls worldwide between the ages 6 and 11 will never get access to primary school education compared to just about 8 million boys. And don’t even get me started on the pay difference that exists. Why? Isn’t it high time this sickening, unjustifiable merry-go-round stop? 

Do you know what makes a woman feel unshackled? Do you wish to participate in women’s salvation? 

Then…

Give her. For once give her.
Give her a platform and watch how she dances off her feet. 
Give her wings and see how she soars higher for the sky offbeat.
Give her a pen and marvel at how she travels in time.
Give her a voice and see how she tolerates no crime.

Judge her. By all means judge her. 
Judge her by her courage
not by the depth of her cleavage.
Judge her by her morals unhurt
not by the length of her skirt.
Judge her from within
not by the colour of her skin.

Let her be. 
Let her be free expressing her emotions, needs and wants.
Let her be free choosing her path, away from religious dogmas and society’s taunts.
Let her live her life in a manner she hopes for.
Let her breathe even if she is a whore.

And! She is sexy. Yes! I’m telling you!           
She is sexy in the way she stands on her own feet independently.   
She is sexy in the way she brings up her child single-handedly.
She is sexy in the way she carries herself with dignity.
She is sexy in the way she sticks to her principles composedly.
Doesn’t this make her one hell of a sexy woman?

Please ladies, you have an identity. You do not need someone else to validate your existence. Do not let yourself be looked down. Forget the rules. You, as a single woman, are worth the entire world’s fortune. No one is rich enough to buy you. No one is strong enough to abuse you. No one is lily-white enough to slam you. Women’s empowerment starts with you. It is when you empower yourself, when you embrace yourself-with all your flaws, your valour, your beauty and your femininity. 

Happy International Women’s Day 2016!

Do Clipped Wings Grow Back?

You say that you love me
One moment I am flawless
but the next worthless
I am sick
of your lies unceasing
denials never-ending
My skin cracks and pales
paranoid
Your face elates
at my mocked sentiments
and body void
If this be love
let me be unloved

I feel trapped
in your world
like a prisoner caged
ripped and torn apart
Why do your words pierce?
Why is your love fierce?
draining the life out of me
until I am shattered
that I can take it no more
and I crawl back to you
Hold on they say
faith and hope will endure
But for how long
when everything is obscure?
I am a bird whose wings have been clipped
Do clipped wings grow back?

*Image borrowed from Google

Look Beyond

I see what lies behind your wrinkles
smiles forgotten
promises broken
I hear the voice in your heart
those screams and cries of agony
that wretched tragedy
I know your silence speaks of words unspoken
that one aching tear hides a soul forsaken

Unless I walk in your shoes
I would never understand
your despair, your misery
That battle 
you are fighting
with all your mettle
The faint whistle gets deeper
I got to catch this train
I could not hug you
But I feel your pain

*Image borrowed from Google

I’m A Shopaholic!

I’m a shopaholic and I don’t pretend to be anything else
Without qualms, I assert
A sadistic pleasure, a blissful ecstasy, a kind of magic shopping spells
Gosh! I’d do it like the dirtiest pervert;
Shopping evokes a lust for things you never knew you needed
The thrill of carrying those shiny new bags
Rhapsody unabated
Even with the high price tags. 

Look at this purple dress! So elegant and pristine
Calling upon me to be released
From the ruthless vitrine
My favorites: Gucci, Topshop and Cholé, last but not the least;
Please don’t tell me that I have enough hats already
You might end up with a bleeding nose
The scent of brand Italian leather boots, so rich and yummy
Whee! I might buy all in the rows.

What is shopping? An activity, a hobby or an obligation?
If shopping were a crime, I’d plead guilty
If it were a season, it’d be spring’s invitation
If it were drugs, I’d be addicted. Pity!
If shopping were music, it’d be the sweetest duet
If it were a smell, it’d be of warm petrichor
If it were love, it’d be a tale of Romeo and Juliet
Only with an ending merrier.

Last week I got my fifth Versace sunnies at 30% off
Together with that gorgeous red Louis Vuitton belt
A sound investment I made, don’t you laugh
For a wise banker I am, correctly spelt;
Uh-oh! How could I forget this naughty Givenchy perfume?
A fragrance darn luxurious and irresistible
Not to mention that fur coat from Burberry as costume
A beautiful sin, utterly permissible.

I could never own too much of something
For once I set my eyes on them lovely black lingerie
My heart skips a beat, triumphing
In an instant moment of joyful celebratory;
Shopping is better than any cure
Yes! On watches and rings I spend galore
The mere thought of it makes me rub my hands in glee, for sure
But that’s what confessions are made for!

Bringing me closer to my doom
Winding up my day in town with an empty wallet
Credit cards turned into witch broom
When I want just another cute bonnet;
Admist this prodigality, happiness is but ephemeral
I could give up shopping
Yet it would not make me more liberal
Hey! Until then, to this craze there’s no stopping.

*Image is a still from the movie ‘Confessions of a Shopaholic’

Daddy’s Little Girl

A delightful cherub, a treasured angel, a ray of sunshine
Eyes full of mischief, puckishly running around the umbrella pine
Jolly in a perfect world of magic and miracle of mine
At six, I neither care to draw the line
Nor bother to define time.


Whoop! Daddy’s little girl I am, his princess too
With excitement my feet quiver as he looks at me and shouts “You-hoo”
“Cutie pie, bring me my shoe!”
Tickled pink I become when he rubs my head with shampoo
And he brings me to the zoo
Hand in hand, to admire the kangaroo
Along with the woodland caribou
How much I love him, how much I adore him, I’m telling you
If only Daddy knew
Of my heart’s untamed hullabaloo.

Every morning I hurry to tie his half windsor knot
In seventh heaven I be for this jackpot
Smelling of aromatic Bleu de Chanel he bought
Tut-tut! Daddy wants just the teapot
Does he even long for my touch? I waver on second thought.

Sneaking into his bed with all my might
I swear I am on cloud nine in the sweetness and the moonlight
Down here, my little bud is on a high and it feels alright
In the strong arms of my white knight
But so cold he is, as usual without appetite
Shh! Cruel Momma’s in sight
Goodnight. 

For long I waited for it-a signal, a sign, an indication
It never arrived, it never will, ’cause everything is self-deception
More so, an illusion
Do I live in a fool’s paradise? I shudder in rumination
I sense fear, guilt and sin creep in with my destruction
Stiffled, smothered and suppressed, I silently witness my desires’ annihilation
As they burn till nothing but ash is left at the dawn of realization
Daddy’s little girl I shall forever remain, is my final decision.

*Image borrowed from Google

Heya beautiful bloggers!

Since you’ve enjoyed my short poem (well I guess, hopefully), I’d like to explain to you its central theme, which as you correctly identified, yaay, is the Electra Complex. Developed by Sigmund Freud, the Electra Complex is a girl’s psychosexual competition with her mother for possession of her father. In the course of her psychosexual development, it occurs in the third—phallic stage (ages 3–6)—of the five psychosexual development stages: (i) the Oral, (ii) the Anal, (iii) the Phallic, (iv) the Latent, and (v) the Genital. 

This conflict normally resolves when the child finally identifies with the same-sex parent and employs the defence mechanism of displacement to shift the object of her sexual desires from her father to men in general. It is just a game of the id, ego and superego. Though it might not fall into our pattern of political correctness, the Electra Complex is much of a realness in reality and through my poem, I have modestly tried to explore this not much talked about subject.

Wish you a good read!