#EachforEqual – I am Generation Equal. What does this mean to you?

My employer setup a write-up submission competition on the topic below to gain entry into
"The United Nations International Women's Day Breakfast 2020" in Brisbane, Australia. My write-up below made the cut and it was a humbling experience to be one of the very few people representing my company at such a coveted event, and absorb the vibe and energy of extremely accomplished women.  

#EachforEqual – I am Generation Equal.  What does this mean to you?

In an era where women are mocked for hypocrisy and double standards about Equality and Empowerment,  #EachForEqual to me sounds like an unstated norm of life, which needs contextual redefining every now and then.

When a woman is denied promotion post childbirth, I am that woman who would rally behind the new mom to redefine equal opportunity and uphold empowerment.

When a woman suffers a gender-based pay gap, I am that woman who would redefine pay equality regardless of gender or race and be a crusader for pay-parity.

But, when a woman at a workplace is being coaxed by her male manager to raise a harassment complaint against another male co-worker to eliminate him from being a potential threat as a contender to his managerial position, then I am that woman who would stand by that male co-worker. I would redefine the liberties women are granted to accuse men of harassment. #EachForEqual to me is also about standing by every righteous man because you are a woman, and your opinion matters more in such vulnerable circumstances.

And when a woman physically assaults innocent public, and the men onlookers stand still watching the spectacle, afraid of interfering due to the fear of being accused of harassment against women, that is when I am that woman who would redefine empowerment. I would stand by every man who would lawfully do the needful to stop the physical assault and give no special status to the assailant for being a woman.

That would be my true calling of I am Generation Equal.

Why is International Women’s Day important to you?

            
 My employer setup a write-up submission competition on the topic below to gain entry into
"The United Nations International Women's Day Breakfast 2020" in Brisbane, Australia. My write-up  below made the cut and it was a humbling experience to be one of the very few people representing my company at such a coveted event, and absorb the vibe and energy of extremely accomplished women. 

Why is International Women's Day important to you?

International Women's Day to me is important because it serves as a reminder to allow myself to dream big, be guilt free to accept the great things that come my way, be fearless to desire for growth and set new goals without feeling culpable of being a careerist or a feminazi.

In many cultures, women are raised to make good with what is left over for them after the men in the family have been given the best.

Women grow up believing that they are lucky if they are educated, because somewhere on this same planet, another woman is not being allowed to step out of the house.

Women grow up trusting that they are fortunate if they are hired by an organisation, because somewhere on this same planet, another woman is being executed for wishing to be financially independent.

Women grow up assuming that they are blessed to have found someone who loves them, and they feel further blessed if they were gifted with the ability to procreate, because they are told that their purpose on earth is to take the human race further.

Women grow up feeling privileged if they have not been abused. And if they have been abused, they convince themselves that things could have been worse, and they gracefully move on.

So, in essence, women, most often than not, attribute all of their accomplishments to the society which has “enabled” them to succeed, but never appreciate their own journey of hardships, sacrifices, sincere efforts, long nights and their sheer devotion, dedication and determination.

This to me is the warning bell for lack of self-worth.

And March 8th – The International Women’s Day is that much needed wake-up call to jolt every woman out of that misconception of being lucky.

While a woman could be grateful to her society, she still needs to accept her accomplishments as her own, and this day serves as a reminder to every woman, every year, consistently, that she is the ONLY rightful owner of all her victories and be guilt free to aspire for more.

Women need solidarity in bolstering this acceptance and unfortunately, for now, we women need this external nudge to accept our own triumphs.

And what better way than International Women’s Day in establishing this solidarity!

Once Again

       Deepavali is here yet again,

       Back home, no one awaits me once again,

       Missing them terribly is my true pain,

       Getting used to my absence is their true victory, their true gain.

       Celebrating togetherness is the only dream I nourish,

       But the standard of living here, they say I MUST cherish.

       To cherish, I beg these immaculate roads to take me home, but they fail,

        I beseech this clean air to turn redolent with mom's festive spread, but no avail.

       Firecrackers, flowers, fun and food, they say are small sacrifices we make for a greater good,

       But family is the wealthiest asset says every dying man who has it all understood.

       Hanging on to my Indian WhatsApp number, I peer hopefully to not miss my family greeting,

       Tech glitch, time zone, hectic schedules are their answers sometimes to my wishful thinking.

       I wish I could sue Tanishq and Cadbury ads for pushing my emotional threshold,

       But the cliché -'Distance doesn't matter' comes to my rescue, and I somehow withhold. 

       Finally, dad sends a selfie - half his face in the frame, and a full smiling mom, glowing gold with earthen diyas  in her hand,

       In their eyes, I search for my absence, my void, but their mastery of disguise defends their strong stand.

       A group-selfie with my newfound homies, "Happy Diwali" I grin with our candle tea lights,

      Blinking and batting my moist eyes, lining up hope for the next 365 nights.

       I send them this tear glistened picture, an evidence to corroborate their idea of standard of living,

      T o me, a memoir of everything that gradually contributes to my fine standard of dying.

Oh yes, Happy Deepavali, once again!

                                                                                                                   

The May Flower

Amidst all the chaos, it stood still, a green bunch of hope

His sanguine eyes counted days for the emerald beauty to unravel its ruby rays.

His anxious thoughts sent whispers of encouragement into the lush,

Wishful thinking was reciprocated with the first glimpse of the budding blush.

The warmth in his smile nurtured the crimson surge,

On May Day, it bloomed in all its glory, a huge red globe of floral splurge. 

Thousands of miles away, I saw this miracle on a palm sized screen,
I zoomed, and zoomed more, seeking to admire the arrangement of this tiny discipline,

But all I saw was his affection and devotion, flourishing through a radiating sphere of elegance,

Off I went on a journey, cherishing that affection,that fondness and his purest form of benevolence. 

A Solitude's Symphony deciphered by an Enigmatic Soul

Welcome to Mallolity...

/mah-loh-lee-tee/

A pristine place, where I pour out my soul, to enjoy the symphony of my solitude.

(Use the easy navigation tabs to surf through my poems, articles and random thoughts... )

Feel free to flood reactions, criticism and feedback! They are my biggest source of encouragement. 

Until Truth Becomes True...

When you feel lost and your introspection fails to reach a conclusion,

When it hurts so bad as your existence fails to be among prime inclusion,

When he who guided your every step, his path seems to be full of convolution,

From all affection, warmth and support, you shall remain forever in seclusion.

Expecting hard-work to be considered as obedience,

While falling prey over and over again to the same trap of lenience,

When walking away from responsibilities is no longer a convenience,

You shall chose to fight a battle with none, but your own perseverance.

The Utopian Harmony

A skipped beat for the unrequited,

A joyful symphony for a possession so priced, 

A sanguine fanfare for the forbidden fantasy,

Yet an obscure scar from a stab called life!

A Satin Story

Two loose ends of pristine satin,
Bent backwards, the other way, 
Hoping in vain to form a pretty ribbon. 

Time healed the hope, loose ends changed their course,
Thoughts met, prettiness rejoiced, the ribbon etched a cherished memory, 
The journey now continues, with each loose end heading in its own direction... 
As pristine as before! 
                             
               

The Glorious Sun

As the glorious eastern Sun radiates it’s warmth, 
The timid sunbird’s heart summersaults with joy. 
The winter has come, the winged rookie must now head south. 
Seeking warmth from the memories,
To beat the distant cold days to come! 

     An ode to a precious evening! 
             4th Dec 2017
       ~ Mine. Mine to Me! 

An unhappy countdown towards Happiness

As the journey in the foreign land approaches its culmination,
Mixed emotions mysteriously unfold a new revelation;

Being a vagabond,unaware,obscure and insecure from all sides,  
I depended on companions to sail through these rough tides;
 
Ignorance for availability, blinded me from recognizing within my comfort zone,
With just last eight weeks in hand, I realized you were the only one;

Divinity has existed here in your human form,
Holy and pristine has been your support in every norm;

 Our strong built care-castle now seems to lie on a confused foundation,
With other parameters fixed, this is bound to remain an unsolved equation;

Lucky am I, that life led me to you, here,
A billion sweet memories will prevail crystal clear;

A regret behind "gn tc sweet dreams"

Regret of those sleepy eyes which fight nature to still look at the chat window
Melancholy of those fingers which defy a fatigue-infused involuntary muscle shutdown to still type a response
Repentance of the mind to comprehend a sleep-laden delayed response to a chat message "U there?"
Lamentation of the heart to declare you are sleepy and key in a "gn tc bye"
A self-reproach to see a very-much expected but undesired "sleep well.." in response

A desire to converse forever defied by nature
A wish to listen to and be heard, overpowered by sleep
The subconscious wait for the next morning's chat window to show a green dot beside that name
The  frolicking joy to find a stupid reason to start a conversation again
The cycle repeats, roles exchange,conversations become memorable and people become important
With all these beautiful experiences life becomes worthily magnificent! 
 

A Heart in Hibernation

On a self-chosen path to be a victim of transient separation
Previously exposed to harsh weathers of unabated deception
An Adonis charming her with his unidentified affection
She joyously welcomed this unanticipated mesmerization


Equally impressed with her was the enchanter who ruled the laws of attraction,
He even mended his ways to surrender to her appreciation,

Ephemerally overriding her pristine connection
They strode on the path of desire,satiating the need for undivided attention

With loyalty to love for a bonding that had survived a generation,
With the fear of any possible deteriorating ramification,
With surreality melting into truth and perfection,
With their shackled hearts mutually willing to be retained in starvation,
It was best to rest their hearts in hibernation.

A Passing Tide..

My dear friend, to have you is a matter of pride,
Cause you do nothing that takes me for a ride;

Your eyes speak everything, clear and wide,
You  shower attention and affection of which I am deprived;

 As possessiveness starts leaving my heart fried,
 I constantly check if our chemistry-filled rapport died;

Though I know I would never be your bride,
It somehow feels complete to have you by my side;

As vulnerability confuses my conscience and has silently cried,
I choose a smiling facade for my emotions to hide;


Though this emotional outbreak is just a passing tide,
A soft-corner for your sweetness shall always reside;

Mistaken Identity

A genuine thought  misread,
An uncalled for confusion undoubtedly bred;
A silent tear of regret shed,
Even a sanguine heart painfully bled.

Candid expressions blatantly to be accepted,
Barefaced truth only to be relinquished.
With pretender defending the pretense-less,
The unequivocal feels spiritless.


As oceans part the harmonious souls,
Even Beethoven's effort to create a symphony would rigmarole;
But as we march in unison towards a common goal,
Making every effort to swing together is my only role...

Crimes of a Charmed Chime..

A passing breeze makes the stagnant wind-chime sound melodious..
The chime dances to the happy tunes of the breeze which is frivolous.
Helpless Chime, got swept and swayed by charm
Knew this would all be long gone before the breeze got kind and warm...

Attractive eyes..nothing to despise;
And those dreamy lashes had a promising vision..
An encapsulating smile, a crush-athalon's next mile;
His honest ways could win any mission.
Chivalry was a skill that he did perfectly master..
Building a camaraderie with him was comfortably faster...

Though tiny attitude-streaks here and there he did reflect sometimes..
His other aspects taught me to be happy in-spite of this imperfect world at all times.
Unauthorized to feel the feel.. I feel like I am made of plaster..
Expressing any further would make my life a disaster...


Being a chime.. you wish the breeze was servile and discplined.. 
Being frivolous... there is no guess how many chimes you ruined..
Breeze moves on.. and the chime stops its melody..
Melodies leave memories.. years pass by and stories of past crushes become a comedy..

That one moment

That one moment...

when you are busy studying for a test..

when your mind is not listening to hunger panks or drowsy eyes..

when your subconscious reminds how your mother took care of you during exams..

That one moment is beautiful when your roommate says.. "Please eat something.. I have cooked.."

That one moment...

when you have grown-out of the age to expect a birthday wish at 12..

when you have known the value of people irrespective of their promptness to wish..

when you have other friends around planning a suprise for your day..

That one moment is beautiful when you actually get a prompt 12 am wish from whom you expected..

That one moment...

when your parents said a gigantic "NO" for a trip..

when you convinced your friends to go ahead without you..

when your friends secretly tried to talk to your parents to let you join them..

That one moment is beautiful when your parents paste a gigantic SMILE on your face with a yes..

That one moment...

when you fought with someone only to correct them..

when you were treated without any dignity, as that person couldn't let their ego lose..

when you still pursued only with the belief that the person was worthy of being corrected..

That one moment is beautiful when the ego shatters and a sorry restores your dignity..

That one moment.. 

when you scroll down the contacts on your phone and feel you cant call anyone on that list..

When you are in a urge to talk and express

when you curse the person whom you can actually call is fast asleep in another timezone

That one moment is beautiful when you realise.. the number you wanna call is not on your contacts-list but clearly etched in your mind!!

 These moments make life beautiful.. 

 These moments make difficulties look smaller..

 These moments make life live-able..

 These moments make you wait for such.. "That one moment"s... 

Before I click on “send”!

When life gives a reason to talk to you, it becomes an unexpected gift,

How well I present this gift to you becomes my minds' next shift..

Enveloping respect and admiration, choosing a word to describe you, is something that I can’t do..
Addressing you with “Hey” in my mail is the last thing that I want too..

Limiting myself just to the topic of conversation makes me feel captive in a cage…

Picking minimal words to convey everything that I want to, still accounts for more than a page;

The fear of being misinterpreted and misunderstood, I carefully avoid topics that could kindle your rage,

This makes it unfortunate that, I cannot be as transparent to you, as a sage;

Voicing my concerns I believe you are the one who can guide me through…

If, diverged from your direction, I shall be satisfied my decision was at least, influenced by you;

Putting an end to my epistle makes me plead for more chances to write you mails..  

The only hope with this initiation is that, this shared camaraderie never de-rails;

The thought before I click on “send”, is more complex than Chris Nolan’s Inception…

The feeling after I click on send , is more numb than lack of any kind of sensation;

The time ticks at the speed of a snail’s 100-meter dash as your response is still in anticipation…

Mind panics with a labyrinth of thoughts visualizing your response even before its actual reception;

When  you respond, I feel heard and listened to.

When you don’t, I feel the wait for the response was short too;

The pain of awaiting your reply defines the new name of the game…

However, the pain of clicking on “send” still acquires the "most painful" fame;

Did I.. Really..

Did I really want all this..

Falling prey to others' mood-swings..
Taking the bait of false friendships;
Relaxing standpoints to nurture my insecurities..
Accommodating others in my space to soothe their vulnerabilities;

Mis-prioritizing my purpose here with the sole intention of building a camaraderie..
Miserably puzzled is how I feel, away from home, in this unknown territory;
Sometimes,To undo a damage it requires more than an apology..
And by the time this is realized, we would be specimens studied in paleontology;

Did I... Really.. want to put myself through all this..
Did I.. Really..

The Dyslexic Pride

It was a rainy Monday morning and all kids had to display their creativity in the Craft Exhibition at school. My creativity amalgamated with my father’s dexterity manifested into a model of Qutub Minar made of lineated cardboard. My supportive mother accompanied me to school to carry my monument prototype. My mother thanked her stars to have had an opportunity to inform Ms. Louisa, my 2nd standard class teacher regarding my incomplete notebooks.
Ms. Louisa always impressed with my hand-writing, chose to ignore my calligraphy skills that day and summoned me before the class to accept my mother’s statement, apologize for my mistake and correct myself. I proudly denied; I accused my mother for falsely complaining, I disapproved of correcting myself.
There was just one statement Ms. Louisa ever said...
“Do you think your MOTHER would EVER lie about you???All she wants is your bright future!”
The whole world around me came crashing down, the fake face of mine melted in moments, the false proud feeling proved to be ephemeral. This Buddha like enlightenment in my life etched a strong impression about women, motherhood and the mother child “fevicol” bonding.
As a six year old mildly dyslexic child, I realized, all I had to aim for in life was “To Make Mummy Proud”. It ingrained internally that making parents proud would take me greater heights.
Being a dutiful working mother, she raised me judiciously. Her sculpting shots shaped me into a model child respected in the society, win the BEST STUDENT ACHIEVER awards at high school, win NATIONAL LEVEL SCIENCE competitions and now be a part of one of the GREAT PLACES TO WORK FOR.
You cannot return what your parents have done for you... Especially your mother…
Still, Have I made my mother proud!!! Yes...
Maybe Not Proud Enough…

Lambent Fire: Bringing out the Shakespeare in Me!!

My life's everyday hours has him in the vicinity...

Glad that life led me to him.. its nothing more than a serendipity..

When he is around, everything is vibrant, brilliant, flamboyant and worth all his fame...

A lambent sense of excitement accompanied with fear and guilt tingles and teases my conscience like the candle flame...

Blinded by his unmatched persona,deafened by his mellifluous articulation,obscured by his diligence, I am impressed for sure...   

To decide if I am in love or I just adore him, is like deciding if he is a sickness in me or its cure.

For I know, he has no reason to discern my murky feelings, nor accept them and cherish..

To ever seek refuge in his heart for once, is like the oil pleading to refuge in the lamp's wick... ready to burn and perish..

Fearing more than death the  Newton's third Law of motion,

If every action would have an equal but opposite reaction,

I pray, I refrain from any sort of my amorous revelation

For love denied,weakens the soul we owe to God; and puts to shame our love and devotion..

Playing with emotion's fire is no less than treating life like a dangerous game..

Albeit gulping down the guilt of accepting a strong liking towards him, is definitely not worth a blame..

With all these equivocal thoughts in my mind.. I tread on straits dire..

With all these ambiguous feelings in my heart.. I feel like a lambent fire..