Feminity ? 

I don’t have to prove my feminity to everyone, especially to the people who treated me like shit.

I am just a gender devoided person inside a woman’s body. I like wearing makeup sometimes, sometimes Kohl rimmed eyes look so ravishing to me. I am not a part of the judgment and banning brigade.

I never asked a guy to prove his masculinity and I won’t, ever. It’s not his job to safeguard me or treat me like a feline creature. For me, all the men I had had once loved, were also like spirits inside a Male’s body. I’d rather be a humanist than being a feminist.

I am just trying to save my inner self for me. I don’t want them to drag the veil of my soul on thorny bushes.

I am wild, I am a non-conformist and a narcissist. I can’t conceal my innermost self anymore for their comfort.

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While I am writing this blog post, I can see the Heading in bold, demanding for a Title, a justification, a reason or few words to summarize the lines I want to write. I can’t think of a title or am I trying to save my remaining strength and dignity by merely writing some incoherent lines, that would just add to the frustration of the reader? My words are just like me, perplexed and frustrating.

I didn’t nurture my perplexed state and I wasn’t a born frustrated person. I have been ensnared in this trap, over the years, like every other person walking on this earth, reading quotes, in a constant state of fighting with his brain and enduring the pain of his tensed nerves.

Optimistic, optimism and strong, I have never been a part of this tribe. Since my childhood, I have always cherished in the company of only one massive group, “the underestimating machine”, yes, I have always underestimated myself, since then, all the successes I have bagged to till this date is actually the working of God and after him Almighty, it is Art. Proving my fragile self to my mind and soul.

I dreamt for one thing, like the Protagonist of Paulo Coelho’s Novel “Eleven Minutes”, love, never ending selfless love. This dream is still a dream and even if Reality tries to do justice to it, Fate intervenes and all I get to hear are some excuses, blames and apologies. They close the door so hardly and harshly, that my soul shrieks and my feelings shiver. I blame myself for the damage done to myself by myself. I know, these paragraphs might be frustrating you out but that’s how I have become now. I have so many secrets and some of them have to be carried towards my grave. My insecurities, my complexes, the idea of finding a safe shelter between this temporary World and the never ending life of Hereafter. My mind is constantly dwindling between the idea of a saint or a sinner and where will I finally tread. Heaven’s too pure for me and my sins are worst than the gravest of sins ever done on this earth. I am perplexed from head to toe and likewise frustrated too. I can never stop my tongue from uttering baseless, senseless harsh words and once I have spoken them, I can never terminate my mind from thinking, how badly I hurt others and I have reserved a place for me in Hell, inside the burning coals, thorns and two forked insects.

I don’t know how to act normal and sound. One rejection made life horrible for me, then rejections continued. I can’t close the doors to my heart, I am a human too. A friggin human, who has been cursed with a heart, few feelings, and a too thinkable mind. Who feels for them but not for myself. Even my body isn’t mine. I know my Creator and my Sustainer isn’t a tyrant and a cruel master to throw me in the hell fire, If I just skip a prayer . But my mind tells me, a sinner can’t do this, what if your hidden sins get exposed, where would you go? Earth will not accept you and Skies will look down upon you, you’re a sinner. You let your lovers pollute you, you let them misuse you, cut your body, that pieces of your filthy body with iron bars where they touched you. But I am not even capable of doing this. I go everywhere with a battle inside my head, I write verses, I write prose to get some relief but mind says you’re a terrible writer because you have to look for every word and you double check every error.

Rejection, alone couldn’t make me the terrible me, my rejection of myself played the massive part in my rejection too. I abhor someone approaching me with care and prayers. I hate concerns and above all, I hate being bothered by anyone. I dread humans, I dread Love and I am overburdened by my tangled mind and thorny tongue.