Notes of Inner Reflection
ow often we contemplate the role of a woman in our life? Not much perhaps because either we are usually lost in ourselves or we are part of the male chauvinism where there is no scope for a woman to enter. Isn’t that a hypocrisy? Yes it is. We are always in splits when we attribute our viewpoint for a woman. We hold ourselves in the highest of esteem and at the same time hold a different outlook for women. If I ask most men around, the question remains unanswered because the demon inside is highly superlative compared to the kind hearted soul resting inside. And men would flip it the other side always. Most of us would rank women in the quantification of beauty, chastity, morality and blah blah but at the end of the sight everyone is bare, rude and raw desperate to seek a rendezvous with the one who is mentioned in columns as “She”.
After I wrote the above paragraph the demon inside me woke up and it isn’t allowing me to write the better on the subject rather is pushing me to close the topic through the objectivity. Strange but that’s the impure character in the very intrinsic of me. Perhaps under the civilized education and clothes, we are still beasts. Beasts to the extent that our rationale objects to any thought of extensive regard for a female. The tariffs in our brains usually ascend as soon as eyes witness women folks. Why are we such strange acting like Guinnea pigs? The answer needs to be explored and the answer isn’t there right now. Actually the problem also is in our anatomical structure, our heart is small where as our brain is large. Had it been vice versa it would have been far more accommodative. Men really lack the sense and presence of mind.
Vintage feeling, the age is behind…
Recalled that day as I did rewind,
Beauty then and beautiful now…
She has managed, managed it how?
Her gorgeousness turned us blind,
All we thought about her was just a wow!
She was special and that even she knew,
With that attentiveness she grew,
Her dignity was a sweetener and a charm,
Her smiles wore an expression of youth very warm,
Knowing we desire her, glances she threw,
She would incite us and then raise an alarm.
Ratio proportionate she did mesmerize,
Her presence aptly did apprise...
She was a Roman Goddess of Attention,
That’s why in our prayers she found her mention,
Gorgeous, seductive, steamy & wise,
Epitome of desire, wisher’s affection.
In the posture sitting she would send a vibe,
Dressed in attire she’d be a queen of some tribe,
She had the power to kindle and rouse…
She will afford to be in a lucky house;
That’s real remark and not a jibe,
A sensational diva in a Indian Sari n blouse.
We lost our time, we lost our sleep,
Our life nose dived and went down steep,
With our loss, she rose day by day;
It were here thoughts that our mind did play,
Every time she walked, from windows we did peep,
She lost to one of our friend, and we fought full day.
Today she isn’t ours, yet this day we talk or meet,
September 5 was the life’s biggest retreat,
Like the handful of sand losing from the fist,
She was also lost somewhere in the mist,
But till this date the bushes we beat,
Remember our misfortunes, and still we insist.
Time has gone, she has gone but memories,
Every year this day brings back the reveries,
Somewhere we know it is stupidity to bark,
When you can’t recognize anything in dark,
But conflicting male chauvinistic degrees,
The mindless thoughts are still naked stark.