why is it always the girl??

“Where’s my home?” He said nothing when I clearly expected a reply. He silently handed me a newspaper with an ad on the front side that said “home is where the heart is”. All I could do in response to that was stupidly gape back, because he had answered all my questions in that single gesture.

My question lies in the word “home”. What’s a home to a girl who has to leave her parents one day? I lived with my parents for twenty three years of my life. That little home was the entire world for me. I’m not a very social person and I don’t have many friends either. For me, my parents, my family was everything. Then came the day when I signed the nikkah papers. I knew it at that very moment that things will, definitely, take a drastic change. The first thing I asked my uncle after signing was, ‘uncle, is this it? Does it take only three signatures to change everything? Even my home, the place I live? Even my parents’ right on me?’ My uncle had no answer. He just hugged me tight and cried with me.

Every time I think of a home, I am reminded of a place where there is a mother. I realize the nest that a mother makes. She makes everything so comfortable for her children. The world is a perfect place for most people when they’re under her protection. Then, suddenly, it’s time for one of the children to leave the nest. The child has to leave. Why? Because this is a social norm. What happens to the “home” that child had been living in for all that while?

Though I’m certainly not of the view that the system should be the other way round, but I’m compelled to ask why it is always the girl who leaves her parents. Why it is her who is told to tear away from her loved ones and settles in a totally different lifestyle? Other than that, the guy should not, in any way, take for granted the sacrifice she makes for him, for something that is only customary. It may be customary, and it has been practiced for years and years of civilizations, but that doesn’t lessen the pain in any way.

I’m just so teary eyed as I write this. It’s just that, the word “home” brings up so many questions in my mind. I guess that’s all for now. I’ll let you guys do the talking now.

Till next time fellas!

Glimpses of Her

I caught a glimpse of her as the university bus passed by. She seemed anxious to get home and glowed with excitement. She told me once it all started as something she never thought twice about, yet now she was holding her heart tightly, for fear of losing it to him any moment. I questioned her worries; I asked her what made her so weak. She had no clue.

I could see she did not want to think. She was always looking away in the distance, always avoided thinking about herself, to look inward. The fire in her was dying, her laughter couldn’t reach up to her eyes. They had become glazed. I often wanted to ask her what troubled her, left that question for fear she might lose her composure. She was surrounded by friends and I could see she was trapped. She wanted to break free but never dared; her wings were weak. She would fall.

Then I had seen her grow happy, with the laughter reaching her eyes and coloring her ever so childlike cheeks. I saw the glaze break down and the curtains falling. From the silent girl with dreams forgotten, she became someone I always thought she could be. I wanted to know more about her new found happiness but maybe she had closed her eyes to have that happiness. I did not want to ruin it for her. She had, by all means, the right to live in bliss. I wanted to look after her, but maybe she already had someone now.

A little further and I saw her standing outside the gates of a medical college. Despite the heat, she looked happy. She was thinking of someone, probably the one who was the reason of this change. I did not stop by her; I did not want to break her spell, for she looked best when she dreamt of happy dreams. I wondered if her nightmares had spared her; I remember the frightening details she once told me and prayed someone might come and hold her when she was scared. The innocent easily fall prey to evil; I hope he’s there for her every time she’s wakes up from a bad dream.

I… Oh… she’s smiling to herself. Does she even know she’s in love? Now I smile too.

I walk on till I come to a stop. She sits there head bent, talking to someone, crying bitterly. I want to know what the trouble is about. I can’t hear a word, slowly she stops crying. My heart leaps out to her, but I am happy she has someone to soothe her, so what if it isn’t me? I see her put on a brave face; wipe those tears away with the back of her hands. It’s him on the phone probably, telling her to smile and so she manages it; just for him.

I want her to triumph in love. It’s all over her face. She’s happy and strong and while he’s around, I will watch her from a distance and make sure she’s fine in her world. I want to her to know if she gets lonely, I’ll be there to save her from falling.

I pray he doesn’t go, for she loves him so!