Him (and me)

I watched an episode of ‘Satyamev Jayate’ on Sunday. A show which is bringing to the surface, many fundamental problems related to the social system in India. It is hosted by a national celebrity, an actor by profession, Aamir Khan. A pat on the back to this actor who has delivered something new at each go, be it cinema or otherwise. How many celebrities would risk making such a move, putting their stardom at stake should be the topic of another post altogether. Well, this episode was about ‘Domestic violence’, something that married women in India deal with even today, when the whole world is claiming that men and women are treated equally. This is all but in words. The age of education has made no revolutionary changes in the thinking of a man. The inherent quality in any man is possession, the feeling of ownership, as one of the activists in the show rightly mentioned it. Women on the other hand have been culturally brought up with the sense of being owned by a far more superior being called the ‘husband’. Yes, women like being possessed, but by love, not by force. Out of force and violence, nothing genuine or beautiful can come. Woman endures all, toils and finally succumbs to every demand of her husband and what she gets in return is a painful death of her identity. The identity that was loved and cherished by many from the time she was born, as a daughter, a mother or a friend. Alas, it is still a man’s world and she remains a small ‘me’ masked by a massive ‘HIM’.

Him (and me)

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You laugh when he laughs, you cry when he does,

He cares nothing, for all your endless fears.

He doubts you at your every move, thinks you are headlong,

You explain even when, your intentions weren’t wrong.

You wanted to be his source of joy, a part of his pleasure and pain,

He thought everything you did, was foolish and insane.

You were never behind his money, his power or his wit,

All he did was not to trust you, even just a single bit.

You parted with your joys, your kin’s and old friends,

He thought all the sacrifices you made were poor insignificant things.

He thinks you fail to understand,

His feelings and subtle demands.

But little did he know that you were changing,

Battling within, but to his liking.

You did all for him and he asked for more,

You cried and whined all night till your eyes went sore.

All you needed was love alone, never the luxury of a queen,

A safe refuge in his arms, with no glimpses of life's pain.

You know that things may never change,

But to make it work you strive,

For you have loved him madly and all it takes is a try.

You know that you have faulted too,

Many a times in life.

You may complain for a woman you are,

And know not, the story on his side.

You wish to forget the things that went wrong,

And make it all seem right.

You live in the hope of a day to come,

When the woman he once loved will again come into his sight.