Navigating Solutions and Darkness

I wish I had the words. 

Much is discussed about the promise of the girl child, especially in India, where some of us tend to ensure our girls never see the light of day. But WHATABOUT... What about the boy child? The young, sharp, promising looking child that dares to look right at you and speak truth to power? The young man whose talent knows no bounds, who delights you, makes you laugh, stands up straight, his spine unbending? What about the intelligent man, the soft spoken man, the well spoken man? The one who reflects the cosmetic attractiveness of chivalry, without its murky undersides trailing after him? Every time I see such a boy or man these days, my heart sinks. Despite myself, I ask, where's the hitch, where's the catch, show me your flip side. Too many times have I been captivated by the shining beacon of fresh and youthful masculinity only to find that those older women jokesters were right after all. Men are trash,  they say, over and over again. And now I agree, over and over ...

Written March 15, 2010 Apocalyptic title, you think? Well, think again. In less than 20 days, I say goodbye to what has defined my life for so long: School Life. Yes, indeed, it is the end. And as pictures of farewell ceremonies and farewell notes throng Facebook profiles... I find myself assailed by a curious kind of wistfulness. Now you'll think, "Oh man, there she goes again, emo talk and senti crap. When the HELL does she NOT feel wistful?" I'm not gonna blame you, but I do like to think that this time I have ample reason for complaint. 'Cause going through all the pictures and shit (and I am not gonna bore you with how I was not reduced to tears by them), one line that kept recurring was:  14 wonderful years with you people, thank you so much. Our own farewell was no exception. The same old Ramayana, minus the Facebooking. 14 years together, yada yada, and I think, "Where the hell are MY 14 years together?" Shifting schools hasn't hurt ...

Photo by  Yuvraj Singh  on  Unsplash Some things aren't meant To be spoken out loud Some things that simmer Just beneath the surface Some smiles Aren't meant to falter To betray the curl Of the lip lurking Right behind it Some arms aren't meant To be taken off some shoulders Lest they stray To a less happy connection On the face It doesn't matter That the goblins are giggling From their hiding place Behind the sideboard Some things are just Not meant to be otherwise Written July 18, 2010