Tag: View Point

Women’s Day : A Random Thought

There is a girl in every woman, waiting eagerly to be allowed, the freedom and happiness.

Some of us are fortunate to let the girl express, time after time, in exciting “simple things”; in the quietness of the woman’s “me time” ; in willing surrender; and in the moments of happy family and friend’s time.

The roles she adorn on a day-to-day basis, when nurtured with love, respect and factors of unconditional support, evolve her magnanimity wordlessly.

A chance is every woman’s desire.

I celebrate the woman who I am and I send love to women around the world.

Happy Women’s Day💕💐

© 2021, Deeya Nambiar

Daughter! Blessed.

It was Daughter's Day 
a few days ago.

Social media rejoiced

in posts of celebrations.

I feel blessed

to be a daughter everyday.

Yesterday, but
A daughter succumbed to fate
;

Reiterating stagnant mindset,
justified time and again.

"You're but a blessed daughter,

in someone's unheard eulogy."

*The news story, another in
numbers of crime against women
that have never found answers
as to "why again?",
what was her fault?",
“did anyone in her village
remember her for being a
supportive and hard working
daughter?, and "what did she
do to deserve this birth?".
May her soul
transition in peace.

2020, Deeya Nambiar

Short Fiction: “Tinking back in a knitwear is easier…”

In the intrinsic patterns of knitted sweater, she ran her fingers, tracing the maze, feeling default in the original design.

Stereotypes woven deep inside belief, her titles of obedience and multitasking, were default settings of original design.

“Tinking back in a knitwear is easy, undoing stereotypes is but a maze in itself.” Her thoughts formulated.

She wandered into the corners of her mind; questioning and editing her belief system.

“I am blessed. And it’s my right to voice stereotypes.”

She became one among the many open-hearted commoners, who willingly held space, and offered care, despite the many despites.

2020, Deeya Nambiar

Let the dead rest in peace

Wish the voices sleep.

Those dead are far gone

And the living dies many a death.

My stomach churns

And thoughts towards utopia disgust;

Speculative spectators whiling time away,

Discussing

Watching

Pretending

Concern in the name of justice.

Consumers to anything

Where premium is in our mind;

Do we care to know our own self?

Do I know who I truly am?

Let the dead rest in peace.

*Disclaimer: My thoughts on Indian media and the way a certain topic of a dead person is being handled. I may be lucky to stay away from print and broadcast media but, the impact it has been having on human consciousness, awakened my slumbering conscience.

2020, Deeya Nambiar