Be Brave, Leave

Braveness is in leaving;

The pain of abuse rarely ever fades- especially when it’s from a loved one disguised as affection, it stings more. Here, is a poem on marital abuse while traditionally, the stigma is on the wife and the husband gets away unscathed- we’ve tried highlighting the unjust society, hoping for a better tomorrow.

I must be brave.

I must be brave for I was alone with you,

I must be brave for I stuck through with you,

I must be brave for I was a noob,

I must be brave for the mistake was grave.

Is it my hair or my face or my dress today?

Or is it my dad or my money?

Or is it my past or my future, honey?

Or is it the weather or the child of your brother?

What is it going to be? What is it going to take?

What are you furious about?

What else, would I have to pay a price?

What did I do today,

to be punished

and to what am I

to apologise-

for forgiveness and some surprise?

Oh, it must’ve been the weather!

I should be more lady-like, they said;

I should be more mellowed, they said;

I should be silent they said;

You should be human, who would even dare?

First, you were pissed at the waiter,

Winked at the neighbour

And then manhandled the driver.

You then held me, painfully tight,

Made me smile throughout that night

Not so subtly while my pain,

Was driving me insane.

You called out someone’s obscenity,

Called it your divinity;

You called me out to be childish,

Soon forced upon your fetish;

Convinced my parents that I was a disgrace

Asked them to save their face;

Made me repent my gender,

And then made me console you,

Then treated my voice as an offender;

You, spit on national highway;

Stoned the animal kingdom;

Went on to belittle the feminists and

Harassed the under-privileged.

You called yourself superior

Oh! so pure and untouched

But what about those you touched?

Did you ask them for permission

Or apologise for your ulterior?

I on the other hand, blemished,

For heart broken once gives you the right to walk all over.

Shouldn’t broken pieces be fixed? With care now.

Or was it to mop the floors for mistakes and bow?

Isn’t past considered a teacher?

Aren’t all the experiences called “gold”?

Then why do you call me names?

Why do you think I’m “used”?

Why did you fix my rate so low?

Why are my parents ashamed

And why am I still silent to this abuse?

Fear that no one will have me Again.

Unaware that I don’t need the world to love or live.

I needed myself and I lost that to you.

But I owe this to myself for I am right;

To my gender and others crying at night.

You sang to my insecurities;

Even danced with my demon;

You squeezed my eyes with lemon,

And I was made to re-arrange my priorities!

Eyes shut.

Mouth shut.

Brain shut.

Heart shut.

I must have done something to deserve you,

For fate rarely punches twice for a few.

I must have done something to deserve you,

For I again missed my cue.

-To speak and be spoken to

-To speak and be heard

I stayed mum and sculpted my doom.

Silence.

Journey to the end , as I called it

Marriage, called it, You.

Where am I in all this, I always asked myself,

Am I the being conquered or the conqueror?

Am I being defeated or the victor?

Am I weak,

Or someone for you to tweak?

Am I the victim

Or someone so impure in your spectrum?

Why?

Why aren’t things yes or no? Why came Maybe?

Isn’t white used for right and black for wrong?

Aren’t gestures weak and actions strong?

Advices flowed in perennially,

“Keep your man happy”

“Don’t be sappy”

Ever so free, yet never they guarantee;

“Run” whispered my friends generally;

What’s Easier said than done?- To leave.

“Leave, my child.”

“Leave”

“Why didn’t she leave?”

“She’s being naive, she must have done something wrong. For, he put a roof over her head”

“She must be infertile.”

Why? Does that validate these actions day in and day out? Does that right the wrongs?

Does that dot the I’s and cross the T’s?

Does that make me stop bleeding or my swelling to heal?

Does that make him a hero or me a martyr?

A reason? Is that all that’s needed?

Justification?

Ah, this society and it’s never ending and bending of rules.

Abusers are wrong, Ofcourse, without doubt- Hands down. Heads bent and tongue tied.

They are the modern devils and they are the Satans we hide.

They feed on fear and feast on assumptions.

But who stays mum to their actions, who stays oblivious to the problem and who turns blind eye to the situation are much worse. They feed and grow these anti-Christ behaviours and they are the ones to be shunned.

Sad are those throbbing in pain- mental or physical, made to sit tight and go through the same again.

Broken and signing up for more.

Am I to be blamed? Maybe.

Did I deserve this? Definitely not.

For after-all, you were so right yet so wrong from the get-go and

I still stayed in the game?

Am I to be blamed or blame?

Must have been my education

Or my self respect that came in the way.

Had lost it someplace and searched it elsewhere.

I am to blame - for my silence and endurance.

I am to blame - for I was the only one who remembered our vows.

I am to blame -f or I thought I was the one who needed fixing

And I am to blame - for I stayed,

Mum and beside you.

I needed to be so lost to find myself again.

On a parting note, thank you for the lessons,

Maybe through tears or maybe through pain.