I don’t like men. But I am not a feminist. There are some
men I like. But if the world calls me and all of us without a moustache and
also them without breasts as ‘human’ I refuse to say I am not a feminist.
Chalo, is it something to talk about now?
SILENCE.
Living under control, under laws which are not equal to all,
fearing darkness, crowded trains, office lift, way home, home, room, the one
sleeping along have been called as LIFE. Who said that, to be in pain is fair? Would I ever
be asked if I am, is the only question.
Am I a lovely dog to say “NO, STOP, COME, RUN” ?
Ok.
But why
do YOU remain the master always?
To you who will never understand:
I don’t like to be touched
if I don’t want to.
You raped me several times.
I hate those memories of rainy days in the buses, fully
packed general compartments, busy walkways, jackals in sheepskin in the new
office, friends who looked for benefits, friends’ dads who brought sweet boxes, fruit vendors, tailors,
hotel staff and many more (almost all looked the same).
Ha ha ha!
Corrupted lot, corrupted race
