Governed or entirely dependent?

Look, there is development, running ahead of India and there is our nation chasing it, by all means.
Undoubtedly, India is and will be linked to a better tomorrow and a better nation. However, what takes a toll on me and many other minds akin to me, is that decorating the house from the outside is all? Keep the lavish furniture and extravagant weapons of flaunting the wealth, is that all?
Wasn’t it about people making a house, an actual home?
Well, we all know the answer. It’s obviously rhetorical and obviously visible how I keep it as an example.
But that’s not the point to ponder.
We are well aware of the atrocities faced by Indians, as a whole. Gladly, pain and sufferings do not follow reservation policies.
Hence, the umbrella covers all of us, united we stand under the umbrella of atrocities.
Interestingly, if I may ask, who causes these adverse plight to the citizens(Harassments, Cheating, Exploitation, Slavery, Trafficking, Isolating, Disparaging, etc),
Sadly, not Government.
In a first, the citizens, we the people of India( as the preamble of the Indian Constitution begins).
Isn’t he who rapes a 12 year old in the city of Awadh an Indian?
Or those who chase and beat a Swedish couple(tourists) in Fatehpur Sikri? Or those who gave definition to the Nirbhaya Case, Delhi?
Or all those who we see or read about.

A recent example comes from the heart of incredible India, a young college girl was absconded by 4 young enough men( or they don’t deserve to be called men)
In the area called Habibganj which isn’t sparsely crowded.
But they were night hours or as to a criminal mind, opportunity hours.
She was dragged to some nearby bushes and raped until she resembled a corpse.
Later, police officers, yes those who swear to protect the nation, yes they did not register her complain.
Moreover, a woman constable was alleged to have asked the victim inappropriate questions, she sure was looking for a sex story there, how cool isn’t she?
Will sheer suspension cure their mental rust?
Build their character?
I don’t think so.

I’m sure governance is to be blamed, purely and prompt strict actions are to be desired.
In toto, government needs to do it all, at least according to all those who are knowledged about this incident or other of this sort.

However, a curious mind would really want to know,
Are we some careless, spoiled brats who need parenting from the government?
Not that government isn’t required or these situations do not exist at ever layer of the social pyramid.
But, is criminal a race, a religion, a gender?
Can they be caught while they plan such heinous situations in their minds?
Can we read faces, too impeccably?
It’s impossible for  normal homo sapiens.
So shall we wait of Marvel superheroes?
No, actually.

It’s high time we understand, criminals are not born but created.
Criminal is not a category but a state of mind, a person develops.
It’s high time we need a check on our morals and character.
Governance would work if the major chunk of people join the right side.
Become more rational.

Did we know that United Kingdom does not have a written Constitution?
Because they believe that the citizens are mature enough to monitor themselves and acknowledge their duties and rights.
Not that UK resides in utopia but it sure sets an example.

More than anything,
Indians define India.

What we need is substantial personality development, rationality and sacrifices of those stingy ideologies and complains we carry.

Candle march and social media are sympathy exhibitions.

Also, suggestively if criminal is a state of mind caused by augmented aggression then, jail is too lavish of a punishment, these people( who commit heinous crimes) need electric shocks, to obviously pacify that mental stage where they sacrificed being a human.

I guess, it’s time we need a little more than that.
We need to educate ourselves.
Crime shouldn’t be a way and righteous activities shouldn’t be a force.
The bottom line is, we are humans before anything and anyone,
Do we need government to tell us something that basic?

We, claim our freedom rights bestowed upon us by our own Constitution( defined in Part 3, Articles 12 to 35).
We are the land of free.
Essentially, one must not forget,
‘With freedom comes responsibility.’

Ayrisha Sepaha

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Says

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“It appears to me as,

Belongingness is the home we seek, people feed our souls.

You are warmed by that blanket yet you crave for arms, beloved arms.

You want someone else to drop you home, to greet you good morning.
See, you want obvious things to be told in the most unique way possible.

No wonder how home became a feeling over time and house remains just a place.
Evolution hits emotions as well.

Do you notice how vulnerable you are to vulnerability?

Strength isn’t about hiding weaknesses, but it qualifies for escape.
So much at your ease.

You defend your vulnerability your entire life,
You make promises,
invisible and intangible basis of trust.

Glittering the idea of forever, that hazy idea.
Which doesn’t even exist in a pragmatic timeline.

Alas,
You only live in the present, rest is either illusion or imagination.

You demand more
Than these defined series of events.

You want the passenger seat of your car to be occupied, frequently at least.

You want to be aware and learned,
Still you wish to fall for surprises.

You’re a heathen painted in civilised colours.

Or maybe,
This incorrigible desire to belong and these constant efforts to be bold enough to stand alone, clashes all the time.

And, this little war scene.
This is the entire ambiguity of life.”

Ayrisha Sepaha

lines you DON’T wish to see on your grave.

I’m afraid,
I was terribly immature to believe,

That friends and strangers are the same things.

To believe that religion is worship and worship is peace.

To believe maturity and age share a directly relation.

Oh how shallow I have been,

I feared pain
And mishandled happiness.

I used materials more than senses.

I blamed time, every bloody time.

I have kept my dreams clandestine and demons revealed.

I have been embarrassed of my past but not of my sins.

Oh how foolish I have been,
To cherish similarities in the entire dissimilarity.

To die each day remaining affected by life.

To give up in silence and mock when everyone sees.

I have been incorrect and unjust,

To give more fucks than smiles.

To try becoming everyone else, but myself.

AND
To look for my life in someone else’s life.”

Ayrisha Sepaha

Ayrisha Sepaha

4 AM Monologues.

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My mighty little mind,
Uncage me.
You’re disastrous
You’re bitter
You’re real
And you see, real is unacceptable.

This world only pretends to adore things it cannot handle at all.

My mighty little mind,
I need a little more than oxygen to breathe,
I need life.

I find it absurd to hide my loud emotions behind louder music.
And I pathetically fail to find comfort in all these comfortable situations.

I fail to comprehend,
How people admire depth only in abstract,
How closeness is all about personal spaces
And how possession is all about things.

How expressing is limited to words on paper,
How love is limited to stories left unfinished,
How friendships are limited to mere humour and sarcasm.

How it’s all about the quantity of meal on your plate rather than your actual hunger.

How nobody cares but everyone, everyone watches.

My mighty little mind,
Untangle me.
Untie these ropes of thoughts you’ve tied me into.

Allow me to accept normalcy,
Allow me to be nothing, pretending to be everything.

Allow me to fit in.

Ayrisha Sepaha

Thank you for the picture Harshit Raj Choudhary.

An excerpt, maybe

“Time is constant and different at the same time.” she said.

“There are times when it takes double the efforts to accept the end of a certain story than it took to actually live it.

There are times when you close your eyes to find yourself watching the faded clips of your favourite moments, deliberately on repeat.

There are times when you watch the fire inside you unleashing more each day,
Yet you decide to consume it,
Hide it and let it burn your own self subtly.

There are times when the fear of this world and people intimidates you more than that demon in those stories.

There are times when you do things which you thought you’d never prefer.

There are times when you break your own heart, to save your very self from the harm of others.

And there are times when you get enough of that time to actually conclude all of this.
These are the times which resemble pages of a bestseller, not the ones with words but the blank ones.
The ones which lead to new chapters.”

She stopped and looking down, she said, “You see,
You are an object, with limited powers.
Time is the deal, the most intangible, tangible power.”

Ayrisha Sepaha

One Hypothetical Death Note

I greet everyone, people I have known, people who have known me and the rest connected ones.

I am going to end my life.

I am quiet certain about my decision, which by the way is an outcome of not sheer depression, but knowledge.

Knowledge of everything and everyone closely enough to end up disliking it all.
Knowledge of differences between lies and real lies.
Observation and a vibrant  mind, these have been my strength which ironically lead me to be this weak, or I’d say made me a quitting person.

I have had days of my life, where I’v met this ultimate desire ‘Happiness’ in person.
And other days trying everything to be someone, find my purpose.

I would really share the fact that,
Making people happy is the most pleasant activity to perform, I reckon, I had been good at that.

But life isn’t a good audience, it needs twists more than anything.
So it plays this card,
The fading card.
It is a phenomenon where every seed you ever planted never gives you a single leaf.
You watch your efforts, but sooner you encounter a barren field.
A dead land, just like that mind.

I don’t wish to dominate anyone’s thought processing neither do I wish to consume sympathy.

I just am tired of vicarious emotions, people and everything which remains under the clouds.

I am tired of being visible and invisible at the same time
Of watching hopes die and building new illusions each day.

I apologise to those few souls who have loved me,
I don’t try to make it unworthy
The problem is,
I am failing to reciprocate now,
And I have no courage to see anyone of you, leaving me.

Knowledge makes me stop
It holds me back from fooling my mind

But I don’t leave because my hope died.
I leave because, all that I ever received leaves me full, completely

And nothing fits more,
Not more enough,to wait.

Maybe people like me are losers
Then be it,
Someone has to be.

Ayrisha Sepaha

You had me at the Goodbye you made.

You had me at Goodbye

I remember you,
My person as you were.
I could see how sometimes,
A few emotions are just so much connected to a single person that they live along and die as that person leaves.
Now, I carry graves.

I remember,
How you watered lilies and waited for roses to blossom.
How you knew everything, every time
Until, it was too late.

I remember,
How you made promises
And I kept them always
Only to find myself holding the most volatile designation in your life.

I could see how people lie between those true lines they say.

I remember,
How you knocked,
Till I opened up
And you watched the blood, flood away.

You smirked at my smiles
And I wished for moments like those all the time.

You bought me a cake
And stole my hunger away.

Oh My dear person,
You had me at the goodbye you made.

As you left,
I watched your foot prints fading away,
For several, several days.

Until, I collected all the love I gave away
Pieces, like burnt pages
But,
My own soulful emotions in lifeless shapes.

You had me at that goodbye you made.

Ayrisha Sepaha

My Silhouettes, Your Shine.

You are an art
I discovered, in this journey of time.

I recollect memories
As when I drew these dark images
Struggling to express my own definition of happiness and life.
Through the only colour I had, black.
Yet, I made improper shapes and proper details.
Complicated and serene.

Purest of my emotional velvet, green.

I kept these imaginations and stories clandestine
I had least hope to find silhouettes, I created
In someone I can call mine.

And then,
I met you, Dear most.
Your reflections and rhymes.
Your oldest soul shined,
Spreading glitters to those black, deep black drawings of mine.
Making melancholy,
A wonderful rhyme.

You are an art
I discovered, in this journey of time.

Ayrisha Sepaha

A Raw Love Letter.

Dearest,

If you’ve chosen me,
you must be non routine.
If you’ve fallen in love with me,
you must be brave.

As I scribble through these lines trying to pour a rather framed, fabricated version of all the disaster that I carry,
I would mention that
If I hold you today,
I’ll hold you even tighter tomorrow.

I’d be interested in everything you are scared  to reveal.
I’d observe what you speak when you look for silence
Or what you feed yourself when you are more than hungry
Or maybe where exactly you hide your demons.

I’d count not your compliments but the number of breaths you take while actually feeling alive.

I’d taste that burnt cookie you got while baking the whole dozen.

I’d tear your make believe personality and look for that misfit inside of you.
To offer the love,
You thought, you’d never receive.

I’d watch you like the moon watches the earth even on the days it doesn’t show itself much.
I’d notice your flickering eyes and your clenching palms and all the reasons behind your response.

And when you change
I’d cling to you,
I’d would hold till it settles
I’d wait till the disaster ends.

And if this universe plays its old tricks and catches upon us.
I won’t be shallow my love.

If you end up in a stranger’s arms
I’d watch you through,
I’d watch you melt and mix into that distant lake, that another love.

I’d watch you with tears in my eyes,
Smile on my face
And grace for you my love,
So much of grace.

-Ayrisha Sepaha

Ayrisha Sepaha

Pretentious Flesh.

How often are these eyes used so ironically,
Seeing only the outside.

Particular and stuck
Damned by that shape
Them perfect abs
And skinny ass
Those salad diets and crop tops
To show it
The body, greatly made.

But to improve the mind,
Ah, heart ache.

And to believe that,
The shape of your flesh
Over your not so uniquely shaped skeleton
Means everything.
You’re ready for life.

However,
What about soul detoxification?
About taking soul on a diet, a strict diet?
What if it’s heavier than the body can ever be?
Or has lacked nutrition, pathetically.

These ounces take you no farther than gym.

And that
Short and cute
Vs
Tall and dark
These choices based on categories made out of appearances
Black on white isn’t the only racism.

Segregation at it’s worst is nothing but discrimination.

And what about that magic you look for and keep failing.
Because you look for toned legs and flat bellies
More than love, benevolence and butterflies.

But what do we really have,
More or less than a soul?

-Ayrisha Sepaha

Ayrisha Sepaha