By: Tehniat Fatima Ahmad.
They say that love of this kind trespasses all
But she never felt that
Unsettling and foreign
Abrupt and discomposing
Explosive and stagnant
How could one feel like home?
When fear highlights all
When sleep is the only escape
Hate displaces all the positivity
She had never considered herself
No shame, but raw disgust
Bile calling her throat abode
The one who made her
The laughs and the smiles
Brought her to this corrupted yet beautifully flourishing universe
Her reason.
She never gets rid of the silent screams
The unsettling way her body aches
The limitless tears which leave her empty
What throbs is the fact
That the superior feed on themselves
Regardless of gender, you can mold into a victims
The want of it
All she asked for
Was kindness
But, in their eyes
It was too much to ask.
Living as a daughter is extremely difficult in this society, living as a “good” daughter is even more difficult, almost touching the impossible line. Standards, gossip, different perspectives, various pieces of advice, too much interference, and straight-forward, strict instructions; are known as the norms. If you’re a girl, you have to take care of what the whole family and neighborhood will comment on. And this mindset, this self-created tradition, is everywhere. The idea of simplicity and freedom has left all Pakistani neighborhood’s and even if you live in a decent area one of the above-mentioned pop up as a challenge. And, that’s one side of a girl’s story.
The other mask consists of parental authority. The largest, looming cloud that hangs over our heads because of classifying as a female. Accordingly, this piece that varies individually, can provide shade and be a relief. It can be safe in the most upsetting of moments and can cause smiles to bloom and spread warmth further. This coolness can create so much joy that the darkness cannot touch the brightness. Lastly, it can be the base of one’s life, the heart. Contrarily, the same shelter can cause one to break, to untie, and fall apart piece by piece. Standards that mess it all up, leaving nothing out of the picture, scratching every social and individual aspect.
Preferences and opinions are left behind, not of the whole crew the one above in the eyes of nobody gets the advantage. Examples of used, brave women, little girls can be seen all around us. 51 girls out of 300 are abused by their kith and kin and the numbers and cases just keep climbing up. Aside from rape and abuse, harassment is the most common perspective that lurks and multiplies in every dark corner. One cannot imagine the heartbreak and utterly nerve-wracking hurt that she drags herself through. The times she ends up on the cold, hard floor, crying, and not breathing. Besides, you could never compare, never console her that you know what it feels like unless you sail the same boat.
You assume that you know, that you are completely aware but please, spare the sympathy. All your sadness will only take her back to when pain diffused through every, single body part of hers and swallowed all her will to do the simplest of things. Your praise only made you highlighted, make her feel a little alright. But, if you are the one she ran to, the one she spilled all her tears and truths over, only then to some length you know the way the pain causes her voice to break and made her undo herself. Because you know too well, you have seen the numbness that envelops her like an endless maze. And you are brave, braver than you think, as you endured with her, you managed to make it seem okay, you begged her to stop shedding what couldn’t be gained back. You own a lot of praise.
Even more importantly, if you are one of those gallant souls that walked through it yourself, then you have claimed the extreme edges of the burdens you can carry. And, truly, you deserve more than one can gain as you lost so much inside of you. In closing, the aspects and the emotions come as one package. One has to tread carefully since it takes a blink of an eye to exploit and often, the exploitation is addictive and leaves the victim chaotically insane. And secondly, there is always hope left, even if she thinks it’s minuscule, but she doesn’t know that she is hope herself, that she awaits greatness. And if you are a she or even a he, in the end, gender is just a small difference, I love you. You deserve to be loved and cuddled with warmth and I know you can do it because your smile erases it all away.
(Photo from Paintingvalley.com)
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