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I AM SORRY MOM I CAN'T FIGHT MORE (CRY OF A RAPE VICTIM)

I AM SORRY MOM I CAN'T FIGHT MORE (CRY OF A RAPE VICTIM)

Share it friends till it become the voice of whole nation..!

(I FOUND THIS FROM INTERNET)

I still remember mom when once you and dad asked me what I need to do in my life I replied you I will reduce the pain of other’s people and I became a physiotherapist so that I can try my level best to reduce the pain of others. But today I am not able to resist my own pain. Doctors are slashing my body parts for the fifth time like they were never the parts of my body…it is paining a lot mom I am not able to breathe properly and they attached me with oxygen cap. Please tell the doctors not to give me the anaesthesia mom. I am scared I don’t want to close my eyes. If I close my eyes it takes me to that scary phase of my life where I was being cut into pieces I was just bunch of flesh which was being continuously chopped by those animals. Those faces were very scary mom they were like those hungry animals who were biting at every parts of my body.

I don’t have courage to look myself in the mirror. Moms please break all the mirrors nearby me. Please take me to bath. I want to bath. I want to sit under the shower for years mom so that I can wash those inhuman touches which has made me hate my own body. I tried to go towards bathroom but my stomach pain didn't allow me to move myself. I can’t raise my head to see you standing outside through door glass. When someone enters in my room I feel very scared mom. My heartbeats get faster my eyes searches for you. Please be around me. I don’t want to be alone. Mom these medical instrument beeps are haunting in my brain. They sound like those unhelping traffic sounds which muted my cry and pleads which I was doing that time mom. The silence of this room reminds me of that silence when I was thrown on deserted road. I don’t know what happened but I was feeling very much cold the same way like a person shivering with very high temperature. Mom do you remember once when dad slapped me in childhood how much you fought with him until dad didn’t bring my favourite chocolate…Where is dad, mom? I can’t see him...is he ok mom???

Please don’t let him cry mom. Do you remember once how dad got angry on you when you used to shout on me for anything? They have beaten me and my dearest friend with some metal. It was paining a lot mom. I saw how he was bleeding to save me but they were coward rascals. They kept on beating him together till he didn’t collapse and then they scratched every parts of my body repeatedly mom.  You always taught me to fight with the difficult situations but I am very weak in this situation. Please hold my hand. I want to sleep please put my head in your lap. Please wash my body. Give me some pain killer my stomach is paining. Please tell doctor not to cut more parts of my body. It’s paining a lot. I am sorry mom I can’t fight more..!

Just 10 days to go....21-12-2012

12-12-12

Imagination : A Talk with one's own Tranquility

Creativity : A Silent emotion

well to whom we called creativity??

Purple penguin

I met a penguin
with an intense divine,
made her my pie
with the dream of sky,
full of zeal and enthusiasism
she entrapped me with her idealism,
quite funny bit naughty
very fickle but witty,
a beautiful but mischievious
her companionshp was oblivious,
the baby grown into a lady
with a curiosity of wisdom,
these days she is quite weepy,
fighting lone battle of her own,
am adding she z charming
she is cozy natty & dashing,
lastly adding she is mine
my PURPLE PENGUIN

From my diary.....Lines on Bengal during my last visit to BCKV

For Bengal with love..............

The morning glimpse of shining sun,
glittering water of the mighty Hoogly,
speed moving crowd,
rough voice of hawkers,
smoky dusty MG ROAD,
two balanced cantilever over Hoogly,
and Bengali beauty buds with a shiny weather,
I am just romancing the scenic beauty of interior Bengal,
the over crowded local,
with regular vendor vending their product,
making my journey a bit hectic,
soothing and mild euphony making me energizing,
rushing towards BCKV,
With a hope I will be success in my quest,,
but again I am honeymooning the horrible journey of local...

Life juxtaposed.........


The ornate life at Bhubaneswar quite different here at Bengal,
I am comparing my journey in a AC car with the open hooded trolley rickshaw,
the slanting rays of sun in a rainy morning,
numerous holes in highway with full of water,
opening of BCKV at 11 am
life as if hibernating here,
no movement at all,
people are being lazy and the local bus journey is very pathetic,
as it takes 1 hour to travel 10 km,
distance is less but accessibility as if restricted,
faculty are not organized,
increasing redundancy in university made the university a mater of debate,
corruption scam of 25 crores and fake certificate of the registrar,
making BCKV a point of attraction by the watchdog of govt. The press,
with such anamolys and hot environment am here,
to make my work smooth and healthy with a positive outcome...


A wayward life...........



From dusk to dawn,
Bengal learned me the art of literature,
science of struggle,
management of funds,
but fails to learn me any discipline life,
prior to BCKV I was very punctual ,
from 8 o clock morning classes to midnight dream,
but BCKV destroyed my day to day activities and
blended irregularities to my day to day work forces........

From The Corridor of time ...to rejuvenate old faded memories

"DUSSHERA" the festive occasion which has it’s own importance in my life since my childhood days. The family gathering, cordial welcome & above all the warm affection of my family members will remain a great impact throughout my life. Let me explain why this festival has the best prerogative to my life. when I was a child of 3-4 years the messenger sent by my maternal grandpa to convey the welcome message for Dusshera or simply my grandpa sent  someone (From among my four maternal uncles) to welcome us to the auspicious MAHASTAMI ( BHAI JUNTIA) ceremony. Me & Maa used to ready for our Dusshera journey at our earliest, and papa followed us after completion of his assignment.

Being a lone nephew I used to draw the kind attention of my beloved family members of maternal side during my early days. It was a story of about twenty years back. Things were gradually changed the affection and welcome turned into some hostile compromises & some kind of unwanted agony for my mamus (Maternal uncle). Yes it's very natural my uncles are now with a changing status from single to married. They have their own responsibilities of family life & workfare. My so called lone MAUSI deeply immersed into vague vanity. My favourite & caring among all NACHIKETA MAMU who is a lover of aesthetic beauty of life, sage of literature & who feels money earning are secondary for him forcefully dragged into the calculating arena of life due to some of his personal choices. From whom I learned the real essence of life keeping him away from this so called puja celebration during these days.

Recollecting the faded memories of warm Dusshera gathering at my maternal uncle house was rarely a chance of occurrence now days. Nostalgia bulging out from my mind and I am asking myself what exactly happened to those beautiful days of MAHASTAMI, NAVAMI & VIJAYA DASHMI. The NAVAMI days were very memorable for me. The PUJA PENDAL visit & counting the number from 1, 2.....to 19, 20 got so frequent within 3 hours with papa and my sister Anisha were now just a golden memories with the cruel reality of bitter present. The charm of Balangir puja days are lost, people around us just doing the FORMALITY PUJA for the sake of compulsory rituals not from the inner calling of heart.

Forth coming days we have to stay in the sweet abode of my maternal grandpa house alike an uninvited guest. when we reaches in MAMU HOUSE now-a-days the questions we have to answer at the time of our arrival are "when will you leave" "when is your train" "how many days of plan you have" etc. Like this many questions were being asked by my UNCLES during some of my previous holidays including this DUSSHERA. So my frequency of visit there gradually squeezes to some single digit number of days per year. The puja celebration, social gathering at RAVAN VADHA (VIJAYA DASHMI) is one-one fairy tale story to remember. So the changing scenario & behaviour of my relatives forcing us (me & my sister) to stay away from any function & puja at Balangir. For their reluctance attitude isolating us to pay a visit near to my grandpa & grandma is now just a DISTANCE DREAM. 

The lull before the storm

For me my love & emotions are the greatest things in the world. From where I do extract my mental peace of mind and stable state of soul. Likewise several couples, I have also bonded with someone else with the bondage of love & emotion. Not like the volatile & romantic illusion for one or two years rather we bonded to carry out a relationship and worked out our future course of action. Where there were two places for us, where we both were equal share holder of our love empire. We had decided to share our love & joy, sorrow & happiness, anger & emotion, compromises & adjustment together. As our plan of work worked out much earlier we proceed in our path comfortably with both of our commitments & loyalty for nearly four years.

One day the bomb has to explode. Our hide-n-seek opened out with someone’s ugly complained to my parents. They had interrogated me as if I was a criminal & they were the brave Scotland Yard police. Simply I behaved like cocooned into a snow white slumber. My answers were ridiculed them and added fire to fuel to their anger. They were simply busted out; their facial expressions were deeply stained with the redness of hemoglobin & mercury of blood pressure ranged unaccountably. The situation after confession was quite unpredictable. They charged me like a under trail prisoner booked for any heinous crime. We read in our early days that every start has an end likewise the drama of accusation confession & trail came to an end with an unprecedented reaction of my parent.

Apart from some family member rest were (including my little sis MAMA) behaved me as if I did a barbaric crime by having a love affair with a girl who belongs to non Brahmin fraternity. My relatives were found a new chapter of joke & a matter of discussion where I used to be the lead actor & she was the sole villain.

Yes I am giving respect to the custom & norms of the Brahmin society. But I have also my own freedom, my own emotion & attachment. If I will follow the path of my parents or if I am going to obey every words and phrases of my parents, then what will be the consequences? I will have to marry a Brahmin girl leaving behind all beautiful moment which we both had cherished till date. My love story will come to a tragic end with the name of “CASTISM” & the strong bondage between us will break in no time. On the other side my parents will yield credit for their dearest parent centric son, who is the worthiest guy in the world like SRAVAN KUMAR of Hindu mythology. But can I be happy throughout my life by giving a sweet betrayal to my beloved with the name of “BRAHMIN JEHAD”.

Life from stubborn challenges to an unending nightmare

Again it’s another school of thought, quite different from rest of the blogs. During my schooldays I was simply a happy-go-lucky type boy willing to accept life as it comes. Not extra ordinarily brilliant in academics but rather a mini genius blended with some radical changes codifying me a boy blessed with some idiosyncrasy tic attitude. The same phenomena also repeated during my graduation days at OUAT Bhubaneswar.

Initial days were surrounded with my flamboyance. I was completely carefree as if supernatural would going to work upon my destiny & would have been dragging me to the zenith of success. Beside the insane thought of being an undisputed king in my own wisdom, I always built my dream castle and stated ruling in my own territory of thought with my princess charming. Now a days I am feeling shame for my carefree stubborn attitude of reckless day dreaming, which is now a saga of unending pain, nightmare and agony.

Though I have earlier mentioned, I was floating upon the breast of fog, enjoying the lurid beauties of Bengal, totally carefree type with absurd thought; completely brutal & barbaric. Right now am asking myself why I was completely carefree & stubborn during my master’s days at Kalyani (KOLKATA). Life was so unnatural and so carefree type evaded from all responsibilities. I was completely oblivious with the companionship of my juniors. Life was bouncing rudderless along the successive tidal crust and tough of time leaving me complete unaware of the forthcoming future trauma.

The long journey of Master’s and Doctoral programme is going to complete soon. But I am just like a good for nothing, with no lucrative job in my bag yet. My juniors are right now well established; friends are almost completed first phase of life & heading towards the second phase (Family Life). But for me it’s like a culmination of agonies. It’s a diabolic plan of luck, a cold blooded disposal for me aside the vast flow of success. The preludes to some worst happiness were designed for me during my post graduate days.

Knowingly or unknowingly I was complete ignorance of a fact that a most successful girl is my girl friend; who is a master of her own. By quitting two prestigious jobs she already proved her loyalty that until and unless I will get a job she should not engage herself in the earning process. She is rather happy by sitting behind my pillion rather to show the independent attributes of her official melodrama. A girl who had a wish to join XIMB (XAVIER INSTITUTE OF MANAGEMENT) for her dream to become a business/corporate professional completely metamorphosed with the very impact of my discomfortness. I may not be happy with her business career or it would hurt my emotion, thinking such she left her MBA career followed by officer at a nationalised bank (IOB) & again class-2 at Govt. Of Odisha. Each passing day I am feeling guilty for my selfishness, I am the perpetrators of these dastardly crimes. She can’t even think to take any independent decision of her life because she is completely loyal to me.

But what can I do. Why god is playing hide-n-seek with my destiny? Why I am complete failure? Preparing for something different is crime? Gathering bunches degrees has no means in the society. Sequential euphony of life is disharmonized during these days. My luck is to me like the quintessence of all inclination to which my sense are completely prisoner. But still with her sole support I am fighting my battle silently, standing firms & grimes as life become a perpetual nightmare.

Defying stiff opposition of family and friends she is the lone supporter to me. Lastly a taste of happy tears remembering the forgotten notes of million songs & trying to piece together all my shattered dream for I am willing and determine to start life all over again.

Heart-to-heart talk

 Happy days were moving at a faster rate, I met a first year’s girl in the college corridor during the late August of 2007. I was simply in search of my princess charming. At that moment my search was almost over, my fight to finish the search, a conviction got a final touch. Ayesha Mohanty whom I considered as my lady luck met me with uncompromising bliss, divinity & Snug. I spent two more years further there at OUAT with a hidden status of BEING SINGLE pretending everyone to be SINGLE rather a complete ENGAGED STATUS practically before moving to BCKVV WEST BENGAL for my compulsive higher education.

The “utopia of love” was magnetic, rational, Juvenile & enthusiastic during the initial days. For us our love is evergreen like the beautiful California, ever smooth like an apple, ever refreshing like a gentle breeze in a summer evening and ever romantic like a two wheeler ride in a drizzle shower. Ayesha endowed with a beautiful academic career with supreme intellectual, unparallel & stores a deep ocean of knowledge inside that tiny head of her. She has an idea that she looks smart and she does. Reminiscence constitutes her dream, dynamism overwhelms her action and her exhilaration is a phoenix. For her today is a fact, Yesterday a dream & tomorrow a vision. Her untiring effort to overpower the stubborn challenges of worldly life extends from struggle for existence to struggle for supremacy. From her I learned the logarithm of success is not only progressive hard work but also incredible concentration. Her philosophy is a cure for many unsolved mysteries. Life is full of challenges for this spirited girl who is determined to face anything boldly with tremendous optimism.

I have wrote many thing for my sweet little girl friend (The one and only). Who always is being a mental support for me during my every eventuality. She believes in one word “ SUCCESS”. It’s my pride privilege to mention here about her uncompromising attitude of conquering everything, starting from Asst. Manager at Indian Overseas Bank to Asst. Agriculture Officer at Govt. Of Odisha. Now she is heading for beautification of her brilliant academic career. The rigmarole has started from here.

We believe in relationship which is for loving and forgiving, a sacrament endeavour of endearment, a monolithic polyphonic touch. It’s all about sacrifices, understanding & compromises which made our love a successful one till today. People’s have the speculation how a girl can able to quit bunches of jobs for a person who has not been qualified for a single job in his life or to say how our love story is not disharmonious, not triggered with fatal morbid turn spelling inevitable doom. But to say for our self believe and for her selfless love, affection, support & sacrifices making me realises about my goal and destiny & cementing our joints of love firmer and stronger day by day. Lastly sacrifices, understanding, compromises, selfless love, affection, support & believe are the synonyms for our heart-to-heart talk. 

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Rain before dawn

By F. Scott Fitzgerald

The dull, faint patter in the drooping hours 

Drifts in upon my sleep and fills my hair 

With damp; the burden of the heavy air 
Is strewn upon me where my tired soul cowers, 
Shrinking like some lone queen in empty towers 
Dying. Blind with unrest I grow aware: 
The pounding of broad wings drifts down the stair 
And sates me like the heavy scent of flowers.

I lie upon my heart. My eyes like hands 
Grip at the soggy pillow. Now the dawn 
Tears from her wetted breast the splattered blouse 
Of night; lead-eyed and moist she straggles o'er the lawn, 
Between the curtains brooding stares and stands 
Like some drenched swimmer -- Death's within the house!