Indian mentality and mindset is always anchored to a man - for a woman. There is no place for identity or self-confidence. And sadly, the docile meekly but firmly try to impose the same "civilian" codes on other women.
Here is the Pretty Story of a character called Radha. Her name semantic of the pedantic joy she spread as she poisoned her Krishna.
Radha met Krishna when they were mere children - innocence was more part of Krishna's story. Krishna was idealistic, filled with notions of clouds, wonder and magic. In his shape of a woman, he never sought a form - rather completion. A reader, a leader yet a voice never angry - Krishna chose the might of the pen over the sword in most cases of his life. Ergo, the spiel of a spiral.
Radha on the other hand lived in disillusion and denial of her own self. Her folly was further misguided by her aimless but a conniving mother and a sisterhood of no shame. Her animatics had no action point - reason saw no fruition because there was no base. Radha lived in the world of signs and notion - love meant the man chasing her, relationship meant her assertion over the man and motherhood meant her complete control.
The children in these two wanderers soon grew up - Radha a more vicious and a vivacious self, Krishna a nomad but curiously a shelter-seeker.
Radha and Krishna remained steadfast friends - both awed by the dissimilarities they brought to each other : as a stark grey in their rainbow worlds otherwise.
One day, the story of Adam and Eve caught their attention - and funneled down to a union. But one was prepared to dominate while the other saw no means of escape.
Marriage was always about the wins and losses, the gains and spoils and the hits and misses. Full of oxymorons, the stature of marriage between the two souls became a bondage : one aware the other unaware.
The aware one sought passive means to escape - technology afforded a convenient world. The friends made over social media suddenly seemed more real, the sexting became the pleasure principle while the digital flings the course of corrective action. For the unaware, ignorance remained bliss - as she lost her own personhood in the miracle of her being.
Radha, felt her womanhood with every passing day. She asserted her illusioned omniscience on the more knowledgeable soul - drawing wonder at her courageous folly. She fought for attention - around her there were shards of glass for others to walk on as they meekly tread her path in life. She remained joyless - full of spiteful dreams and made others lose any spark of life too. Yet she never woke up.
In their blissful ignorant world there were two sudden occurrences. One was the dawn of cherubic innocence - and the other a Game of Thrones. As random has no play in this world - so did the Theory of Coincidence wreak havoc in Radha's image of a perfect life.
In a day, stripped off her colors, she remained stranded - feeling her own self-pity mocking herself. Her womb felt heavy - yet she remained untouched by remorse.
She found flaws in everyone, argued without a base, wanted to crush all with all her force and be the Kali. She never ever was the Creator, anyway. She felt the fumes of the blue murderous rage awash her dark soul, her charred eyes burned red as her heart rot away in jealousy. Insecurity ate her vision of life - she dug her claws on every back she found : regardless of child or adult.
Radha was a function of her hatred - she spread no love even to her own flesh & blood. Krishna, lay at crossroads of his own way to Life and at the Destruction of a loveless life. He prayed for the smile while the tears poured all around him. His idealism lay shaken, his belief in Radha's maturity lay broken.
Both were at opposing ends : Radha's insecurity her barrier. Yet she saw nothing of it, the supremacy of her conceit found every vein capricious in Krishna. The battle ensued and exited with Krishna on his path to victory and Radha stranded on an island of self-woe : still blaming others for her own state of negation.
As days passed, Radha grew lonely : her need for a man proliferated to choosing Tinder over the reality of life. In her definition of love, she had sought to impress upon Krishna, her tattooed presence. She had wanted to be his Manna - but all she did is break his own Mojo. She sought for a world of passion, instead she brought bitterness into every household she stepped into. She wanted security of a man, as her mother had taught her - but instead, she made the man insecure of his own self. She felt unwanted, unloved, dejected - but never really questioned her own self and the tears she brought others with her own unethical life-path.
The story of Radha and Krishna - inverts the reality of the mythological story we have grown up with. The root of the story is love and blind faith - the germ is the concept of unconditional love that made Radha blind to any man.
My story here, is metaphorical of the modern day relationships : where the Saas-Bahu serials fueled the stereotypes of a relationship which find followership in even the most progressive.
The mindset of a woman towards the man in India / or maybe outside, then becomes a case of ownership and pawn. Her pride lies in domination of his spirit - unknowingly she herself buries the relationship though in her crude uninformed mind, she begins to believe that she is the Saviour. There is no "Lover" in people like Radha here - they only seek to be loved but have no knowledge of how to impart love. Such women, are lost and "loose" - they are the moles that turn cancerous. Their perennial islandic worship of their own selves - never ever being perceptive to the man's emotions - makes them critical of every blessing. The man is the Provider - not the Partner. The man is the Caregiver - but not the Friend.
It's still a sad world and women like Radha deserve a sad ending.
Here is the Pretty Story of a character called Radha. Her name semantic of the pedantic joy she spread as she poisoned her Krishna.
Radha met Krishna when they were mere children - innocence was more part of Krishna's story. Krishna was idealistic, filled with notions of clouds, wonder and magic. In his shape of a woman, he never sought a form - rather completion. A reader, a leader yet a voice never angry - Krishna chose the might of the pen over the sword in most cases of his life. Ergo, the spiel of a spiral.
Radha on the other hand lived in disillusion and denial of her own self. Her folly was further misguided by her aimless but a conniving mother and a sisterhood of no shame. Her animatics had no action point - reason saw no fruition because there was no base. Radha lived in the world of signs and notion - love meant the man chasing her, relationship meant her assertion over the man and motherhood meant her complete control.
The children in these two wanderers soon grew up - Radha a more vicious and a vivacious self, Krishna a nomad but curiously a shelter-seeker.
Radha and Krishna remained steadfast friends - both awed by the dissimilarities they brought to each other : as a stark grey in their rainbow worlds otherwise.
One day, the story of Adam and Eve caught their attention - and funneled down to a union. But one was prepared to dominate while the other saw no means of escape.
Marriage was always about the wins and losses, the gains and spoils and the hits and misses. Full of oxymorons, the stature of marriage between the two souls became a bondage : one aware the other unaware.
The aware one sought passive means to escape - technology afforded a convenient world. The friends made over social media suddenly seemed more real, the sexting became the pleasure principle while the digital flings the course of corrective action. For the unaware, ignorance remained bliss - as she lost her own personhood in the miracle of her being.
Radha, felt her womanhood with every passing day. She asserted her illusioned omniscience on the more knowledgeable soul - drawing wonder at her courageous folly. She fought for attention - around her there were shards of glass for others to walk on as they meekly tread her path in life. She remained joyless - full of spiteful dreams and made others lose any spark of life too. Yet she never woke up.
In their blissful ignorant world there were two sudden occurrences. One was the dawn of cherubic innocence - and the other a Game of Thrones. As random has no play in this world - so did the Theory of Coincidence wreak havoc in Radha's image of a perfect life.
In a day, stripped off her colors, she remained stranded - feeling her own self-pity mocking herself. Her womb felt heavy - yet she remained untouched by remorse.
She found flaws in everyone, argued without a base, wanted to crush all with all her force and be the Kali. She never ever was the Creator, anyway. She felt the fumes of the blue murderous rage awash her dark soul, her charred eyes burned red as her heart rot away in jealousy. Insecurity ate her vision of life - she dug her claws on every back she found : regardless of child or adult.
Radha was a function of her hatred - she spread no love even to her own flesh & blood. Krishna, lay at crossroads of his own way to Life and at the Destruction of a loveless life. He prayed for the smile while the tears poured all around him. His idealism lay shaken, his belief in Radha's maturity lay broken.
Both were at opposing ends : Radha's insecurity her barrier. Yet she saw nothing of it, the supremacy of her conceit found every vein capricious in Krishna. The battle ensued and exited with Krishna on his path to victory and Radha stranded on an island of self-woe : still blaming others for her own state of negation.
As days passed, Radha grew lonely : her need for a man proliferated to choosing Tinder over the reality of life. In her definition of love, she had sought to impress upon Krishna, her tattooed presence. She had wanted to be his Manna - but all she did is break his own Mojo. She sought for a world of passion, instead she brought bitterness into every household she stepped into. She wanted security of a man, as her mother had taught her - but instead, she made the man insecure of his own self. She felt unwanted, unloved, dejected - but never really questioned her own self and the tears she brought others with her own unethical life-path.
The story of Radha and Krishna - inverts the reality of the mythological story we have grown up with. The root of the story is love and blind faith - the germ is the concept of unconditional love that made Radha blind to any man.
My story here, is metaphorical of the modern day relationships : where the Saas-Bahu serials fueled the stereotypes of a relationship which find followership in even the most progressive.
The mindset of a woman towards the man in India / or maybe outside, then becomes a case of ownership and pawn. Her pride lies in domination of his spirit - unknowingly she herself buries the relationship though in her crude uninformed mind, she begins to believe that she is the Saviour. There is no "Lover" in people like Radha here - they only seek to be loved but have no knowledge of how to impart love. Such women, are lost and "loose" - they are the moles that turn cancerous. Their perennial islandic worship of their own selves - never ever being perceptive to the man's emotions - makes them critical of every blessing. The man is the Provider - not the Partner. The man is the Caregiver - but not the Friend.
It's still a sad world and women like Radha deserve a sad ending.
