Is it ever enough?

Bhumika Bhatia
Photograph by Bhumika Bhatia

Years of patriarchal trauma and guilt

bitterness filling the vessel

constantly sinking the feeling

of trying to call out for help. 

The burden of washing down your sentiments

chewing every bit of your self-respect

to make way for more 

unwanted-masculine ‘direction’ and ‘opinions’.

When you fill a room with unsolicited

and regressive views and philosophies,

things at one point begin

to seep out on their own;

forming mean, unacceptable words

that can easily wreck familial chords.

The outer wall of your

gorgeous-looking living room

in a two-bedroom apartment

may take your breath away

because of those glossy,

plastered aesthetics. 

But what do you know

about the seepage

inside every minute

of the day and month and years

of endless bickering, 

and fights,

and oppression

that one endures

without trying to look closely

at those tinted yellow spots

or at the black scars that cry for help?


Deepshikha Deb

Deepshikha Deb

A dumpling-lover and storyteller who loves Tilda Swinton. I have always been a ‘blahcksheep.’ I can’t expressly point out why, but I have always felt like I don’t fit into any sort of societal norms or restrictions. My thoughts are mostly scattershot in a world that is always looking for cohesiveness. My random and abstract outlook might not be a standout but it is always different.

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