Surf over the violent tides

Let she die! she isn’t my daughter anymore“, voice vibrated on the aluminum rods of the door where She in crunching emotions, rested her head  for support .
She, Awra( name of the character), the portrayer of passion,compassion, patriotism, boy’s vigour and rigidity in a girl,  social activism and the maestro of classic living. On an overall, she  was born as the saviour of the world amongst the odds.
But see the poor world, whomsoever are very devoted to it are neglected and ill treated . It happened exactly to her.  She was devastated by her own kind of bloods for the current flop of her deeds and strategies that turned over as a never erasable trademark on her family.
Henceforth, she was in huge outburst and pushed herself to travel alone a long way that seemingly had no limits until there was no traces of human races. She marched forward to reiterate all her lost identities to some other form of life. Yet, Deep down her heart, the girl in her made to resonate the ugly voices of her loved ones. On listening to all those inner ramblings, She turned relentless and her eyes were dried off lubrication.
She was now, the girl who was devoid of trust on mankind. To how much extent was she in soft corner on humans, she was in the same extent merciless onto the same fellows now. Her vein of thoughts on forehead was hard to comprehend. She walked and walked at different paces. Staggered, leaped , dragged yet the commotions flying on the inner walls of her cerebrum were unstoppable. She travelled really long way where nobody could celebrate nor destroy her. It was she ,only she could patronize her, understand her, calm her and recreate her. She became a bit exhausted both mentally and physically and was dying to sit . When she glimpsed aside, she was awed by the mammoth sized Banyan tree. It seemed to be standing still for ages with simple elegance and debonair on its own with no else help and support.  Something charismatic was there in it  which mesmerized her to wipe off all her bitter stories.  Would it be its colossal picture or magnetizing beauty or giant intangible growth? what would it be, what would it be that had fascinated her? Anything would be feasible, since each of it was scorching.
Its spindly, deeply anchored and widespread roots created an imagery of her powerful, widespread nerves across her withered cover, which she was holding it rigid even after this much dismal. She could relate more of her with it. But it diverted her mind only for a while and soon She was back into the same train of longing thoughts.There prevailed absolute nonchalance in and around her.  She was in need of that hug and unconditional love, those ears to listen to her blabber, those hands to wipe off all her dumped sorrows, that melting voice to console her like ” For what you worked for these long time would come true and the people who threw you out for your work, would be proud of the work you did ,one day”.
Poorly, there were none to caress and when she realised that bursting tears were flown at the corners.
Her Mind:  ” where the mistake had started?
Her Heart: ” perhaps, from your birth as a girl with vibrant, futuristic, lavish and selfless thoughts
Her Mind:  ” did the mistake really start from it? Did that mean being a girl is a sin??! “
Her Heart: ” it isn’t for you, but for the world
Her Mind: ” if I was supposed to live like other girls who waste their time and ideas for no cause, would I be reverenced?”
Her Heart : ” obviously. That’s where the world of today lies.”
Her Mind: ” if that is the case, let the world celebrate the fakes and let I be in my own little way.
And you heart, I wanna warn you that being a girl is never a sin, it is luck and heaven, be wary about it “.
When she convinced herself and looked forward for the positivity, all of a sudden a violent wind was blown and tons and tons of leaves showered on her way as if it wiped her tears off, as if it celebrated her, as if it was thankful for her company, as if it was in carnival to applaud her majestic decision.
She was much delighted on the actions of the tree, for the way treated her as one in its family and regained all her broken pieces. With no wait,  she hugged the tree with her short hands.
She bade it a good-bye and walked with pride to create a revolution  with her lost passion.
Life has many knots in it. We may be deprived from our aspirations on the betterment of the mankind, for being a passive gender. What ever species it may be, it just needs the inspiration and a stimulation to burn the wood into ashes and pieces,  it is not with what gender you were born. Simple!

Saalai Kamalathaai

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17 thoughts on “Surf over the violent tides

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    1. Hi nivi,
      That’s just a snippet of our vigour in overcoming the struggles we come through just for being tagged by the trendy word “passive gender”. Just to remind the world that female gender is no way less to any of the creatures in the world. 😁
      Thank you for your encouragement😊.

      Like

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