Cruising Alone

  Call your wife. Call your mother. Tell them how you talk to women like me when no one's watching— But of course, I'm the Outspoken B tch*, and you, the Outstanding Gentleman in your suit and tie. But sure— I’d rather be outclass than be hung like sea bass on your trophy wall, smiling silent while you call me “crass.” Your twisted kinks. Your polished lies. You think I won’t roar? That I’ll tuck in my shadow just to keep your sin safe? I own my dark. Loud. Proud. You will not cage me with your guilt-laced chains. If you were so happy choosing her over me, Then go flirt with her . Not me. Don’t you dare come here with your diluted apologies and leftover lust. I’d rather be The villain in your story Than your sidepiece in silence. Because I remember— You were a playboy then , You’re still a playboy now , And every time you smile and say “We’re still friends”… God, I puke a little. You know your name. Don’t play lost boy. Don’t hide behind your “Good intentions.” I used to care...

  So, you say you have a sister, and now you have to take care of another? That you want to live up to your father's name, and you can't read about my pain, and nothing's the same? Did you forget that your father saw his own daughter in me... when we didn't even know if we were supposed to be? And I couldn't even look in my father's eyes... because I trusted a coward's lies... while you went about building his incomplete legacy... My father's head hung low because of your discrepancy. He saw his daughter cry for years... and aren't you the one who said you hated my tears? So go on, take your glass of whiskey and say cheers... because you only made me stronger than my fears. You might have broken me and left me for dead— but always remember: I am a father's daughter. What you broke, he built every day. Blamed himself for my crooked ways. He tried to shield me when no one was around... and you thought you could laugh at me while I was on the ground...

  So, you thought I would simply burn in rage While you quenched your passion with another... And when I spoke up against your ridiculous behavior, You dared to say— If it were not for your own sin, I’d have to deal with your brother. So, you could threaten me as much as you like, But when I matched you word for word, You dared to say I belong in a mental ward. Did you honestly think you can clip my wings, And I will vanish, extinct, like a flightless bird? You can't even handle your own dirty work, Always need one henchman or another To hide that smirk. Do you really believe you are a good guy ? Even Hiranyakashipu and Raavan Sent their sisters first, to burn and humiliate— And you can burn me all you want... Not every coal becomes a diamond in the rough. But honey, I was never just coal to begin with.

  Wandering through orchards, tasting the sun, Searching for the ripest berry—just for fun. You stroll alone in this earthly Eden, Yet blame every Eve for what was forbidden. Can you even find the way to that cherry, Hidden deep in the fruit of the loom? Or do you still believe only the serpent Knows the routes to diabolical bloom? Not every Eve is misguided by the deceitful viper, She dances to the tunes of her inner piper. She goes on her own quest, no need to impress, Finding the cherry to savor from that sacred chest.

  You might crave your new woman’s touch, long for her embrace like a cherished clutch— but I have wanted to self-immolate because of your touch. Run around, claim you’ve won a jackpot , but it’s not rejection I fear— it’s your filthy gaze, your uninvited touch . You said you were being cruel to be kind? I’d love to press rewind. You begged for my love first, but now you chase another— just hunger, no soul. I know how it feels to be touched without permission . Yet, you—relentless—pressed me to submit, to erase my no as if it never existed. While you laughed, busy painting me as a rejected soul, I spent nights undoing every single touch . So go ahead, call me vile— but even after all that, I was good to you.

  So, you want to make me feel like a woman? Want to make it worth my while? Is that why you got that degree? Well, then you should know, That I am worth more than just a trophy. "But I am attracted to you" Why should I care? When I said I don’t crave you Or feel safe with you. The love I give is a treasure, And it is not for fleeting moments of pleasure... Why would I care if you only care for this body And try to buy me things that are way too gaudy... No matter how much you see me in your dreams Or want to taste that eternal stream... Go on and wonder about that cream, But I will always be a dream. I don’t need you to make me feel like a woman... I’d rather be a legend, untamed and uncommon.

  A boy came to me, asking— "Can you help me improve?" A boy who spent his drunken nights in the arms of a mistress, now claims he was always a good man. He asked me— "Why won’t you play my mother?" Why? Because your parents failed you and your brother? Because you need a woman to mop up your shame while you parade your masculinity and pretend you’ve changed? Well, people are filing FIRs for words filthier than yours. But what about you— the one who left my body wrecked and laughed as I fell? And now you say— "Let it be. Otherwise, who will buy you a lightsaber? Which man will claim you now?" Did that laughter and power disappear from your face now? When you said, "Get lost." When you hid behind your brother’s strength. When you ran, sneering— "Ah, is that why you’re causing trouble? Because you’re not getting money?" Wow. But sure. You are such an amazing man.

  You bow down to a woman, only to do her dirty, Preaching freedom while drowning in hypocrisy. You treat her right when your throat runs dry, Lust-driven hands, masked with a lover’s lie. Did you think she breathes for your vanity? You break her down, then mock her insanity. Does it thrill you, watching her question humanity, While you revel in the comfort of your profanity? You wear your sins like a crown of pride, Hiding behind walls where your cowardice resides. But doesn’t it burn when a woman plays you? Lucky for you, she’s not wielding swords— Or you’d beg for mercy before she slays you. Even Shiva had to bow to still Kali’s wrath— What makes you think you could do a woman dirty And she would go down easy? Me? I could inflict all the pain on you, Be it the trigger's pull or the dagger's kiss, But for now, I hope you die with a thousand cuts, And my words will be forever here— No ointment can heal the stings.

  Dancing under the moonlight, silky rose petals caressing my skin, seeing the reflection of sculpted form in the silver-glazed quartz. Engulfed in lavender smoke, there is only room for moans— not ugly cries. Who says I deserve love? I am Love. Fingers tracing all my curves, as if just learning to ride waves and surf. My lips, matching the shades of a rose, my eyes beaming bright— like pearly sea shells under the starry night. Who says I deserve love? I am Love. The silky tresses fall over my face, dew drops linger on my chin and lips, my torso covered in sacred oils, like a sculptor working hard to make his muse stand out. Who says I deserve love? I am Love.

  Where were these so-called boundaries when I was uncomfortable? When I mirrored your behaviour, suddenly I wasn’t normal? Oh no—seems like I "can't handle rejection"? Yeah, yeah, sure… Or maybe I stayed quiet so I wouldn’t create a scene? Tell me then, MR. GOOD CATCH — Why did you think it was alright to stalk my online profile, Inspecting who commented what? Were you not being a creepy little lurker ? But tell me—did you like the taste of your own medicine ? I guess not. When you can’t tolerate seeing your mother and sister suppressed, When you despise the toxic masculinity in a woman— Then why do you violate her vulnerability in the first place? Where did your laughter disappear when I jested, yaar? Why did you suddenly get so serious? Can’t take a simple joke? How sensitive of you. Maybe you’re overreacting… Maybe you should get a therapist yourself. Geez, have some control over your emotions, man. C’mon, give me a smile… You have such a pretty smile… I really liked ...

  Labelling me as a failure, while you stand so fly— Did it not hurt when your father died, and you rushed to marry your sister off? But if you hurt me, does it matter? My father is alive, and I have no blood brothers. Oh, so you were just a kid? And who was I—Erin Brockovich? You felt so cool, asking me— "Have you not watched American Pie?" Now you brag about tasting continental sides, while calling me the one full of lies. Telling girls how they’re tight, how you’d want to do them when you're high as a kite. Did you really think you'd mess with me and I wouldn’t bite? "Are you asexual?" "Are you not finding someone else to sleep with?" Well, can you pass the phone to your mom? I’m sure she’s too tired, raising boys like you while your father left to have a heavenly fondue. Failure? No. That title belongs to the man too afraid to look me in the eye.

  Boohoo to your pity, I can't believe that your name means being virtuous to a certain degree. I can't believe I was so tired of creeps, that I was like whatever let it be. Seriously, the guy who was flaunting about sleeping with two naked women in dreams and I am the one who has lost it seems. Does she know you were bragging about the taste of her cookie? My true colours? Maybe this would make your face shine crimson red. I am weird? Boy, I shine with or without that blush. I am not that woman who ever wants your money, go pander to people who wanted to be your friend because your name was higher on that coder list. You think I was calculating to be your friend? I simply decided to be your friend. You think I couldn't see through the ways you were testing me? To see if I am a gold digger or if I can solve the question of tree. I do not talk in binary. Asking me if I can Google the term "Eat You." Fake? I was simply happy that you had less money as a kid and coul...

  So, you think just because you slept around, Twelve women deep to prove your masculinity, You can shame a woman? Boasting— at least you’re not a virgin? Tapping a woman just to show you’re a man? I guess you skipped chapters in decency and biology. There is no pride in that—be it man or woman. And yet, you preach about being the good guy ? Would your blood still boil if your sister was left high and dry? Or would you blame her— she should have built a home ? Do you think real women are pornstars? The audacity of men like you , Trying to explain a woman’s body to herself. Is your mother still teaching you this? That girl seduced you, enchanted you—for your money? Like seriously? If that were true, Even Fiona wouldn’t have been with the Ogre. You want feminine women, yet ask, do you like to touch yourself? Your mother warned you of gold diggers, But forgot to teach you respect for someone’s daughter? Spare your lectures when it comes to me, I was standing up for other girls— Aga...

  Keep your sins to yourself— Not your "Father" or "Mother" to cleanse, Not for me to swallow in silence, Your guilt is not my recompense. Don’t drag me through your self-made hell, Then act like you turned out so swell. Watch your filth, then touch with ease, And still pretend you’re pure as peace? Should I carve it on my skin? "Do. Not. Touch. Me."—would that sink in? Or will you still play dumb and blind, Like respect is too hard to find? If you wrong me, I’ll return the song, Sing it loud where it hurts the most. Tell your mother, warn your child— Let them know of your hollow ghost. So go, pray at temples, beg for grace, But I am a storm—you'll know your place.

  A guy like you— who boasts of conquests like trophies— dares to call me a psychopath? A guy like you— who measures his worth by body count— Do you  think you can shame me? A guy like you— who has built his pride on silencing others— believes he can shut my voice? You justify your choices, wrap them in excuses, but hold me to standards you’d never dare apply to yourself. And I am the one to blame? Men like you deserve no sympathy. Oh, you pity me? I do not need pity from a man drowning in his own bravado. The audacity— to tell me to "calm down," to label me hysterical, to say, “Don’t take it personally.” Your intentions were pure? Where was that purity when I said, I won't be able to take this anymore? Now you would go on and say you did everything you could? But aren’t you the one who was laughing, mocking me when I was in pain? I was never afraid to stand up— not as a child, not now. And I sure as hell won’t let you walk away unscathed. You tried to humiliate my very s...

  They say girls only want attention, When it’s the boys who thrive on the male gaze, craving validation. Flaunting their women like trophies in hand, Yet taunting them for taking a stand. They hide behind their veil of "good," While asking women to cover up from their filthy gaze. Try to act like men when you are in doubt, Yet shrink away when caught in a crowd. They speak loud but call us shrill, They break hearts yet say we kill. They say girls are "crazy," ruled by Jinn, I just hope their daughters don’t pay for their fathers’ sins. They mock our rage, yet steal our fight, Afraid of the fire we hold inside. But we are the storm they cannot tame, And we burn down their game. Boys like that asking, "Would you wear that in front of my mom?" Well, no, but does she know you drool over almost every naked woman? Acting as if God made them from a rare mould, When they are the ones who easily fold.

  Would you understand my situation, my choice? How could I? I am not you nor your voice. You want others to accept you as you are, But have you even accepted yourself for who you are? You say I’m like your mother, Or sometimes, I act like your brother. I may reflect the familiarity of those traits, But I am not your mother—never will be. I am my own person, just like you are. When you can’t understand yourself, Why impose your voice on me? Then you say, “Oh, I can’t generalize, it isn’t right”— So why should I dim my light? You’re human, not a machine, Yet you judged me— That laughable, smoke-screen test, When you can’t even talk maturely. I am not a test paper, not a multiple-choice, Where you say, “I fail” and you win, Or “I won” and you fail. Who is winning this? Tell me, who? Because, in the end… does anyone? "I liked you for who you were." "Do the same as you did before." "But I need someone who does more." I was not a teenager, and neither was your ...

  You teach us the divinity of temple grounds, The sacredness past the mortal bounds. You explain how "Pran Pratishta" is done in those stone moulds, And how it feels closer to the divine home. Yet you often forget this body is my temple too, My soul lives between these skin and bones too. You go to war if they disintegrate or ruin it, And energy released is painful. Then why do you say I am dramatic? Who will fight my war? I never said I am God, But am I not a creation of that divine thought? Then why can't I weep for how they touched me with their lust? Why am I called names for my rightful outbursts? You teach me in detail about the sacred grounds, But forget that I am as much a part of it. You love adorning them with flowers and jewels, When I put on makeup and adorn myself with silver and gold, Why must it be seen as vanity, not a reflection of my soul? You bow down in temples and ask for abundance, But hurt my very soul. The others might have looted this land and ma...

  You crave a woman's touch, You crave a lover's skin brush, Yet you never adore or respect her, All you do is lust over her. You lecture on love, As though you understand its depth, But you disrespect her very existence, Then pretend you know its breadth. You call it a genuine connection, But it's just a disguise for your desire, Hiding behind words, masking the truth, A hunger that only feeds your fire. You speak of need and long for her grace, But what you want is to take, Not to cherish or honour, Just a feast to partake. You don’t see her as a woman to adore, Only a prize to be won, And in the end, you're the one to destroy, What could’ve been, what should have been spun. You pretend to be “the nice guy,” But you’ll never treat her right, You want her to be your conquest, Not your equal in the light. So stop calling it love, Stop calling it connection, When you only see her as a reflection Of your animalistic obsession.

  Boys like you do not like it When the script is flipped on you. A woman who leaves is always A “whore” or a “bitch”—but never the truth. You asked about me? What did they tell you? That I was “always” a “self-serving narcissist”? Is that really the truth, or just a distorted view? I did ask about you, though, People called you “bin painde ka lota,” And if you stood alone in an election, Even then, they’d press NOTA. So, you honestly feel that you hurt my ego? You could’ve rejected me like a man, But no, you did it like a coward, With a sly smile and the words, “Oh, you can’t handle rejection?” How sad is that? You affected my health—HEALTH— And still cried about “dust allergy,” But your ego needed more—how pathetically true. Ohh, I did understand that intimacy is important between a woman and man, And I told you I was molested, but you did not ask me if I was alright or would I be ok? No, you simply said you have needs and blow job is a deal breaker, But guys like you call women ...