In another life

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Not a night goes by where the thought of you does not cross my mind; your wonderful smile has become engraved into my heart like the scars on my wrist.I just wish I would be able to catch a glimpse of that remarkable smile once again.But we both know that this is impossible, as today marks the 1 year anniversary of your death.You did not deserve to die the way you did, you were worth more than the dollar blade that you had used.Those jokes that had been made were not worth your life. You were better than that, you would have changed the world to be a better place.At times I envy you, as you get to sit up in heaven and watch me try to live a life without you; something I didn’t know I was capable of.The day of your funeral had been one of the first times I wore a dress, looked like a girl instead of a freak.As I got to the funeral home I saw that b ****** that caused you to kill yourself, weep.The audacity. I wanted to tell them to f*** off with their phony tears and tits and to leave.But you deserved more than me yelling and screaming at girls who did not care about your death, who did not care that they were ones who caused you to cry yourself to sleep each night, they did not care.I walked over to your wooden casket and stared at your body, so lifeless and pale.The scars on your wrist are hidden by long sleeve dress to make it easier for people to come say their goodbyes to you, people who did not matter. Even when you are lying in a casket, minutes away from getting buried, you have to think about what others think of the “shameful” way you decided to live and end your life.As I reach in to feel the warmth of your body up against my hand, I am let down. You are now a soulless body, one which I knew and loved, but now am a stranger to.You deserve the peace you fought to attain and I hope that you and I  see one another in another life, in which we are both happy.

Love on the brain

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Not a night goes by where I do not dream of you.The thought of you makes my heart skip a beat, the sight of you makes me wish that the world would engulf me, as I feel a loss of words when you approach me. I know my worth and that I am beautiful but I want you to realize this too.I wanted you to know that I was the one made for you and that we completed one another.I wish I could say this to you but when you talk to me I can’t breathe let alone say all that.As I go to school the next day I see him putting his arm around another girl.She is stunning.Her golden skin glows as the sun shines on her, her brunette curls bounce with each step she takes, her perfect body compliments the clothes she wears.I did not compare to her. I run into the bathroom and stare into the mirror, it seems now that all my tiny imperfections had become enormous.A pimple on my nose seemed like a volcano about to erupt, my tight shirt exposing my back fat was appalling, my eyes were different sizes, my boobs were uneven and small.After that day I started to feel a sense of insecurity and hatred toward myself because I would never be good enough for him.I avoided him for weeks and weeks until one night when I was walking alone from band practice and you offered to give me a ride. At first, i wanted to say no but I was scared of the darkness ahead.I got in and the car seemed not to be moving at all. He told me that he had always found me pretty, kind and that he had always wanted to speak to me but was afraid. Before he could say anything else I asked him if he had a girlfriend.He didn’t answer, he stopped the car and leaned in closer to my face and stared into my eyes.He leaned in closer and closer, put his hand on my face and locked his lips with mine.In this moment I felt as if the world had come to a  complete stop. As he pulled away he whispered, “now I do”.But I didn’t want to stop kissing him, so I grabbed his shirt put my hand on his face and locked my lips with his.

Love has no religion

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When you’re in love,

you love the soul of the person,

not the color of their skin,

their religion,

or their ethnicity.

You adore the way their eyes linger on your body or

their sweet, sweet touch.

Not the cultural divide and difference of opinions.

 When you decide who to marry,

religion becomes the barrier between two lovers.

 allowing their innocent souls to be pried apart.

Ironic how,

hearts are separated by the very thing intended to unite.

Religion creates barricades between people for which God did not intend.

Beliefs created hate instead of love;

these were never the intentions of the Creator.

So then,

who are we to tell someone they’re wrong,

for falling in love?

I did not know this would happen, that I would fall for you. But now that I have, I cannot stop thinking of you as the man of my dreams. You are not perfect, but neither am I. But I know deep down that the thought of marriage with you is a sin as you and I are different. Not the way that we look or the way that we have been raised, but the one who we believe is the almighty. That this is the difference. I had met you in high school and we were the best of friends. Our friendship soon progressed into love, but now we have reached an age appropriate to marry, I stay afraid. That the day every girl dreams of, when the man of her dreams goes down onto one knee and asks the life-changing question.This day is the one I fear the most because I cannot say yes and cannot say no. If I say yes I disgrace my family and lose all hopes of contact with them. If i say no, I lose you; something I cannot bare. Now tell me who do I choose: the ones who brought me in this word to live or the one who taught me how to live. Our love is everlasting, but my family would never understand this. To them you are an unsuitable match for a Indian girl like me. Our religions mimic one another and we all know this, but to them they are very different. God did not create religion, god created humans; and they were the ones who  created these differences.

A poem for Jean

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A pleasure,

Shining so bright,

Glowing behind your sweet, sweet eyes.

To follow the very heart,

That is encased within you.

To pursue a life of satisfaction,

Of delight and thrill.

To experience beyond borders,

And look further from what is shown in photographs;

To breathe the foreign air,

And touch those with your smile

That is still so gracious and soft.

Even through times of misery and pain,

Limitations and hurt,

And though your heart still sinks at the thought,

And tears still flood to your eyes

Your resilience and strength is held close,

Never to be taken again,

Always to be favoured and not to be forgotten.

Your independence and liberty,

To fight for whats yours

And stand against what is bitter and askew

Is a feature they all crave to have to own.

Though heart and mind fight,

With time, you found that you must follow your desire,

With pleasure and no fear.

This poem is dedicated to Jean Harmatiuk as her story was a true inspiration to us. She showed us a sense of women empowerment as she did not feel the need to depend on man. She solely dedicated her life to pursuing her own happiness, which we really resonated with. While hearing her story, we felt as if we were talking to real life princess but not one normally seen on Disney but one that was more relatable to the younger generation. I wrote this little snippet when I was listening to her talk but was unable to come up with anything and I wanted her to be able to read it. In this fairytale life-what some may call it- the princess was unlike any other but her dream was not. Her desire to travel the entire world had overshadowed the stereotype of being pursued by a prince. Her name was Jean Harmatiuk.

A to Z

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D is for department store

Throughout my life I have received numerous gifts, whether it was for my birthday, Diwali or any other brown occasion you can think of. I have also given several gifts to many people, but while buying the gift I feel a sort restriction that has been placed on me, the restriction is money. Money is a big part of gifts and at times you don’t have a limitless bank account, but if this restriction were lifted these are 3 presents I would buy for others.

1. The first gift is for my mom, as she’s done so much for me and I cannot thank her enough. But if I had a chance to buy her or give her anything. It would be to keep her smiling forever and I’d buy her a diamond ring. My mom, for as long as I can think of, has always wanted a diamond ring, but never really wanted to spend thousands of dollars getting it because she is a mom and spending a large sum of money on herself is considered as a sin, but when it’s done for us children, it’s completely fine. But in all honesty, this ring would never make up for all the things that she has done for me, she gave up her entire life to make mine. This woman deserves every joy in the world and hopefully, in the future, I can help more joy come into her life.

2. The second gift is someone for whom I have not met and this would be my future baby. I would buy my future baby all the clothes in the world. I love babies, they are like little dolls that you can dress up and play with but the difference is this doll will grow up learning what you have taught it and then carry your teachings to its children and it will continue going down into your great great great great great great grandchildren. The reason that I would choose to buy clothes for my baby would be because that is what I had grown up with, with numerous amount of clothes and outfits. I feel that these clothes then become memories that you would be able to reminisce in as you get older.

3.The third gift is a gift for me and honestly, the one thing that I would love in life would be more makeup. I know this is a little bizarre because I can get anything in the world, but that is what I choose. Makeup is what makes me happy. It provides with a sense of peace and confidence. Makeup by no means defines me, or the person I am but the confidence it brings me is amazing. A black line on top of my eyelid makes me feel gorgeous, so why not indulge in the thing that provides me with this much joy.

 

W is waiting room

When placed in a waiting room you are either ecstatic, scared, or waiting for bad news. So I decided to go with a rather upsetting fiction story for this one about a young girl who loses her best friend. I chose not to give the characters names to allow the reader to feel a deeper connection with the characters.

I had never been to a hospital before this day, I never realized that each minute that passes felt like an hour and each hour that passed felt like a year. But what I did know what that my best friend was lying on the table with her chest cut open fighting a battle which I pray she wins because she was not the one who had started this fight; a drunk man had. We went out after our lectures to go grab a bite because she was going to die of hunger, but I never knew those words would soon become her reality. That her death was lingering at the corner of the restaurant that we had been to a million, ordering the same thing, a chicken burger with sweet potato fries and garlic aioli. We walked out with leftovers in our hand and garlic breath. We go to cross the street, but I left my phone inside, I let go of her hand go and run inside and as I come out a crowd of people surround the very place I left her. I push my way through,  what seemed to be a million people and there she is lying on the ground gasping for breath and calling me over. I run as fast as I could and grab her hand, it was as cold as ice. I put her hand on my chest and I told her not worry because things would be fine. As she took her last breath, she told me she loved me. I let out a hollering cry as she closed her eyes. From there what happened, you ask? I’m not sure, as I became unaware of my surroundings, unable to hear and speak. I now sit in this waiting room chair wishing that I asked her to come inside with me, wishing that I told her to come to my house and eat pizza and ice cream, wishing that I was the one who had gotten hit, wishing and recreating all these terrible things in my mind gave me joy and satisfaction. The doctor approached me and asked me if her parent were here, I nodded and proceeded to ask if she was okay, he said he wasn’t allowed to tell me as I wasn’t family, but he didn’t know. I sank back into the chair wishing the earth would open up and engulf me. Her parents came up to me and asked me what happened, her mom’s words told me that it was going to be okay but her eyes told another story. The doctor came up to us and told us that the injuries sustained were far too extensive and they had done everything in their power to save her, but despite their best efforts, she did not make it and she died of punctured lung, fractured spine, and a brain bleed. I did not cry as I felt no emotions. I did not cry because I was the murderer.

X is for x-ray

A little girl dressed in pink, sitting there with tears streaming down her face, nose running, and elbows bleeding. It seems to have been broken, which is why she is at the emergency. She sits there with her mother waiting to see a doctor. “What is her story?” I wonder. I will never be too sure, but this is what I have made up.

She sat there wondering what she would do on this beautiful sunny day. She decided that she wanted to dress up as a Pink Power Ranger. Her mission was to save the little puppy trapped in the cage, but the only obstacle standing in her way that she was the lava filled floor. So how would she save this poor puppy from its terrible death. A meticulous plan had been made by her and sidekick, Mr. Chubbs, now it was time to execute the scheme. She got up on the ledge of Mount Couch Everest and took a leap of faith on to the other mountain, unable to stay balanced she threw Mr. Chubbs into the lava and said her goodbyes and that she would be back for him. Just one more large jump and she would almost be there. Nothing could stop her now–or that is what she thought. Out came the super villain, Max. He had blonde hair, green skin, ferocious teeth and was enormous. He pulled her down into his home of lava, knowing she would not survive. He kept pulling and pulling until she fell and went through the glass table hitting her elbow on the metal leg. She had been defeated, her puppy died and so did Mr. Chubbs. It was all over. She needed help, she called her super parents over and they vowed to disown the super-villain, Max.

Rape within India

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“A 10-year-old rape victim who was denied an abortion by the Indian Supreme Court and was kept in the dark about her pregnancy has reportedly given birth to a baby girl.”

In many cultures, women are seen as an accessory to men and deemed to be something which serves a purpose but has no worth. But when it comes to women’s body she should be in full control of who gets touch it and who doesn’t–or so we think. Many times this is not the case, a woman’s body to some is seen as something that can be played with when they desire and mocked at another time. Rape is something, which to some is an everyday thing because her voice is silenced by his because he is held at a higher status than her.

Women have always had to fight to gain independence from the restraints that were been placed on us by society, the right to vote, the right to drive, the right to work, and so much more. But a woman should not be denied the right to rule and make decisions of her own body. A woman’s body is something which you cannot put under a set of laws because it is not a piece of property that can be denied or granted access to.

Why are women the ones always taught, from a very young age, to  “act like a girl” and “girls are not supposed to do this”. Why are girls taught to sit with their legs close, to not wear “provocative clothing”, to not provoke men, to lower our gaze when a man looks at us in a certain way, to tolerate vile behavior because “boys will be boys”. Why is this the truth of our society? Why are boys not taught that a female body is not a piece of candy that can be stared at.Why is it that the clothes that I wear define my intentions? Why are boys not taught to not stare at a woman’s chest because that is what is wrong, not the shirt that is worn but the intention of the seeker.This is what should be taught to both boys and girls.

  • 34,651 rape cases reported in the year 2016
  • 17000 of these rapes happened to women between the ages of 18-30
  • Girl younger 6 and older than 60 have also been victimized
  • 95.5% of the woman knew their rapist
  • 4473 attempted rapes in the year 2016
  • 79% of women have been subjected harassment and violence
  • 1 in every 12 women dress more modestly to not catch the attention of a predator

A  10-year-old girl who is unidentified for legal reason had been brought into the hospital for stomach pains but left knowing that she had been 30 weeks pregnant with her uncle’s child, who had been raping her for allegedly 7 months. The girl’s family had pleaded for a termination but it was deemed to be a risk for the mother as she had been  32 weeks pregnant when the abortion had been filed for.This plea had also gone against Indian abortion laws that state that a child is not able to be aborted after 20 weeks unless it is a cause for concern for both mother and child. The girl had luckily given birth to another baby girl through Cesarean section but the baby girl had been put up for adoption shortly after being born, by the parents of the victim.The young girl who had been completely oblivious to her pregnancy was told that she a had a surgery to remove the large rock that had been in her stomach. The uncle who had been accused of raping the girl was found not to be the biological father as the DNA did not match, but another one the girls uncles that had been accused did match, now both men are in prison and no clear punishment has been dictated by the supreme court as of now.

This story has created headlines everywhere throughout the world because it has happened to someone so young and it changed the lives of not only one young girl but two. The baby girl who has been placed into the adoption system her life is now being gambled on as she is female and very few want a daughter as they are seen as a burden to the father. The young girl that had been raped her life has become unknown to her as she has been lied to by her own parents about a significant part of her life.When she finds out about her hidden past she will be devastated as the entire world knows except her.This is one story out of millions this has gained the attention of so many but no one has done anything to help because it doesn’t affect them directly.

The truth is that we have all heard of a girl who had gotten raped on a train or in a back alley by a group of boys but the most we have done is share it on facebook or give it a like on Instagram. Then we forget about it because it does not affect us at all.We chose to make it something that is known and unknown at the same time because we as humans are selfish and care about the thing that affects only us and that it isn’t okay. We as women have fought like hell to get where we are today and to earn our rights so why are we letting men destroy them as well as destroy us. Fear is nothing but an illusion created by society, we have the power to fight back and voice our opinions and use social platforms to advocate for women who need us the most so let’s become united.

 

A hidden piece of me

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 A night filled with memories I’ll never be able to suppress. A night that took away what I love the most. I was only ten when life seemed beyond perfect, a few ups and downs, but nothing out of the ordinary.

The day had started normally with nothing out of the ordinary, the sky filled with rays of sunshine and happiness, but it seemed my world would soon crumble beneath my feet. As I came home later that night, I felt an odd ambiance within my house. It was if something within me was trying to tell me something, but I felt that it wasn’t important – I was young and stupid, what would I have known. So I went about my day as normally as possible, I did my homework, played with my dolls, and went off to bed. But before I went to sleep, I hugged my dad and I told him that I loved him so much and he said the same to me. As I felt his warmth for one of the last times in my life, I hesitated as I pulled away – I wanted to cradle myself in his arms and never let go, but I knew that was not possible. I pulled away and heard him say “I love you”, that was it. Those were his last word to me. I walked away and slept, but not for long.

I heard a piercing scream call my name at 12:30 in the morning, I wasn’t sure if it was a dream or a reality, but I got up and tried to look for my parents – they weren’t there. I rushed downstairs, and the back door was slid open; I ran through and saw that the garage light was on, as I got closer and closer, the screams seemed to grow louder and louder. I rushed to the garage and saw my mom on the ground screaming and crying and as I looked up at the car, I saw my dad slouched over in the driver’s seat lifeless and as pale as can be. My ears started to ring, my body trembles, my stomach turns, it seemed as if all the blood was rushing to my head. I fell. I crawled to my mother and asked her what was wrong, she was now becoming lifeless. I ran inside and grabbed the phone and took it to her and she called 911. It felt surreal. It felt like a nightmare that I wasn’t able to wake up from.

A few minutes later, the ambulance came and took my father away. As my family rushed in through the doors of my house and filled it completely –  it still felt as if it was empty, just me and my god. My younger brothers came down and seeing my mom in the state that she was frightened them, so I rushed to them and told them not to worry. I led my brothers upstairs and told them to play games, as I left I made sure to shut the door completely as I knew things were going to get much worse. I went downstairs and heard a knock at our door, I frantically ran towards the knock as I thought it was my dad, but it wasn’t. It were the officers that took my dad away from me. They asked me if my mom was there and I nodded, but he looked fearful as he entered. He took off his hat and sat down next to my mom and said the chilling words that no one ever wants to hear, “Ma’am, I’m sorry to inform you but your husband is no longer with us”. A scream that I’ll never forget left my mother’s mouth along with a hollering cries. I ran towards my mom trying to comfort her, but I was pushed away by the officer, I fell to the ground and moved away, but I did not cry. I did not cry. 

 

Limitless

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When we are young, we are told to live out our wildest dreams;

But as we grow

We morph into the person whom society will accept, love, and cherish

Why?

Why do we do this?

Rejection

Failure

Things which, we develop a fear toward as we grow

But when we are young, we told that the only fear is how limitless the sky is

Why are we given false hope as children?

When you know that it is going to shatter as we grow

Why are we told to be

Unique

Extraordinary

When that is something which is unattainable, as there is a set standard of excellence

Why are we built up and broken down?

Vulnerability

A lack of confidence

Because of your lies is, what we achieve

The sky that was once limitless becomes something known,

as our innocence is replaced with education.

We become numbers for universities to judge

Why can we not go to the days where,

The sky was our limit.

Not our grades,

and growing up seemed so far away.

When we are young we are told lies

This poem has been a long time coming. This is the year we apply to university and officially become adults, and let me tell you it has and will not be easy. The school year has barely started and I have had an enormous amount of pressure placed on me and so much is expected in such little time. This poem is my way of expressing all these bottles up anger about basically everything that I have been feeling in these two months. My poem is talking about the false information and hopes we are given as children and how adulthood was encased in it. We are told that nothing can hold us back, but here we are, so many restrictions placed on us. I find society a hypocritical joke, and the fact that conformity is looked up upon is unacceptable. Children are not yet aware of this filter that the media has placed before our very eyes, however, when they find themselves conforming to false notions, they shall remember their young self and the aspirations held within their childhood spirit.