HISTORY OF INDIA’S PRIDE🌈

The history of the nation of India gives a glimpse into the magnanimity of it’s evolution . The transformation of the nation instills a sense of inclusiveness.

In India, same sex relationship ; homosexuality was not legally accepted and considered an act of offense by Article 377 of the Indian Constitution.

The first Pride Parade was held in Kolkata on 2nd July, 1999, called the Kolkata Pride March which was the oldest Pride Pride March in the entire South Asia. Even though it sought participants from Bengaluru , Mumbai as well but none of them were women. Also knows as The Friendship Walk, it is believed to be similar to The Stonewall Walk held near New York city in the late 1960’s . Pride discussions in India is related to demonstration of caste as well.

Pride Marches were being held exclusively in Kolkata in the years 1999,2003,2004 and 2005. Bengaluru, Delhi, also organized coordinated marches with Kolkata. The then PM’s appeal in favor of the LGBTQIA+ community was a major push forward.

Indian literature and history is rich with examples of homosexuality and portrayal of all gender people.

Bengaluru has been holding Pride March since 2008 annually. It’s organized by the Coalition of Sex Workers and Sexual Minority Rights(CSMR).

Delhi’s parade is held yearly on the last Sunday of November . Delhi’s Queer Pride supports movements for Dalits, feminism and disability rights.

Chennai also had a major Pride march called the Chennai Rainbow Pride.

The first parade in North East India was held in 2014 in Guwahati, Assam.

Alternate sexuality was an integral part of ancient India and homosexuality was considered to be a form of the sacred.

Organizations like the Hamsafar(Mumbai), Chennai Dost, Alternative Law Forum (Bengaluru) are working for LGBTQIA+ rights.

Student Movements are also registered under the Government of India and Genderqueer Movement based at Madurai.

The Pride Parade is a symbol of celebration and liberation for the entire LGBTQIA  community.

Pride, as opposed to shame, stigma is the predominant outlook that bolsters the most LGBTQIA+ Rights Movements.

Queer Azadi Pride March also called the Queer Azadi March is an annual LGBTQIA+ Pride Parade held in Mumbai. The Pride March and related events are a platform to ask for equal rights, constitutional protection against discrimination on the basis of gender and sexuality, sensation of the society towards the rights and aspirations of the community and elimination of violence, transphobia, homophobia within workplaces, educational institutions and public places.

Homosexuality is as old as the Vedas and The Trans Community is as ancient as the Madurai temples!

The 90’s saw the emergence of women loving women, the first gay film was released in India in 1996.

Since 2004, the LGBTQIA+ community have been fighting incessantly for their justified rights.

The most notable achievement for the community was the acceptance of the third gender on 6th September ,2018 when the Supreme Court of India invalidated a part of the Article 377 IPC making homosexuality legal in India. By ending the colonial-era law, it paved a way for India’s better future.

Gradually the society is beginning to accept the LGBTQIA+ people, employment and education is being available to them, they’re free to engage into same-sex relationships but India has a long way to go and as an organized political movement the India LGBTQIA+ Movement is quite young. Advocating and protecting the diversity is a must.

The Pride Month is celebrated in the month of June all over India for the LGBTQIA+ people to fight for their rights where common masses also join in. Leniency towards the community would finally lead to the creation of an equal and harmonious society.

SAY NO TO DOWRY! Stop this social evil.

The dowry, not the wife, is the object of attraction.”
-Juvenal

In India, there exists a practice of giving presents to the bride at the time of her marriage. The gifts are known as dowry. But these gifts have always been a malediction to the woman and her parents.
Dowry came to empowerment as a legit cause stating to give women economic and financial security after their marriage in the form of movable goods.
This helped prevent wealth-related divorces and provided security to the bride at the same time. But over time, people changed and the constructive word ‘dowry’ was changed into a destructive and terrifying noun ‘Dowry’.
The bride and her parents are mentally pressurized and tortured, manipulated, suppressed demanding more and more every time and if not fulfilled the entire tornado of anger and frustration blew through the girl who went to the in-laws seeking some love and care, instead lacerated for materials.

The Indian Government made the practice of dowry illegal in the year 1961 with provision for the imprisonment of five years and a fine of Rs 15,000, but to date, the Dowry System is still prevalent. The exact numbers are not known but anecdotally half of the Indian weddings involve dowry but still are rarely reported as a crime.
Everyone would want their daughters or sisters to be happy and in safe hands. Giving away women to the dowry greedy people would be the same as dropping them in a well full of plight and sorrows.
We need to raise our voices and oppose together so that the Dowry System doesn’t create any more violence which results in injustice with women.

“Any young man, who makes dowry a condition to marriage, discredits his education and his country and dishonors womanhood.”
Mahatma Gandhi

STOP DOMESTIC VIOLENCE

It’s not your fate !
Speak , Fight , Resist.

Blood was all she could taste . Just last week she convinced herself that she was immune to all his threats and her torment filled life . Yet, it hurt . It hurt today . It hurt yesterday and it hurts everyday no matter how strong she is from within. She feels her strength slipping away with every strap of that brown leather belt against her skin , with every saree she has to wash the blood off , with the silent weeping nights and the bandaged face , with the lies she had to put up for the society , with every moment of accepting her fate . Yes that’s what she called it . FATE . She realised that the only way to placate her heart was to submit to her fate . Yet why did it hurt so bad? Was it her weak body which was deprived of proper nutrition? Or was it her delicate heart which once had melted by his charm , and now refused to take its stand . Was it her conscience who whispered into her ear that this shall pass and all of this was a result of his frustration after losing his job? After all, he had lost too. She lay on the floor watching her husband rambling about how she forgot that sugar was one thing he didn’t like in his coffee , she started recalling the last few minutes . So much had happened, but again , she had gotten accustomed to the violence . He broke the cup she so lovingly brought coffee in. When she argued all she got in return was a terrible push and a collision with the edge of the bed . Her forehead was bleeding terribly yet the slashes of belt were not controlled . She saw no remorse in his eyes , only fury resided . He was screaming and the words came floating to her ears as if he stood far away . She was too fragile , had taken too much for one day and so she just lay there , numb and oblivious to the world around her . Her decisions were never stable enough to make through . He always won . Domestic violence was considered just a mere normal supremacy of men over women in that family . Accept and move on . That’s what she was told . She tried . Not anymore.

The daily tremendously harmful doze of alcohol had left him jobless and inhumane all together . Not only did he destroy his life , he snatched away hers too .

Domestic violence is mostly physical , psychological and sexual abuse committed by a family member or intimate partner in a domestic setting like marriage or cohabitation. “Apart from physical violence, derogatory remarks, dismissing the partner’s views, ignoring her, being condescending and abusive in the social circle, commenting on looks or intelligence, withholding money also constitute abuse,” according to Dr. Samir Parikh , a well known psychiatrist.

Domestic violence has affected all genders although the ratio of women over men is very high . This is because of the social structure we are brought up in . Women are bound to an endless cycle of ‘wifely duties’ and child care after marriage and learning to behave  pleasingly and approving to society forever.

So why do most women fear reporting against domestic violence and constantly bear such torture ?

Firstly, if we look at a bigger picture we can see where it all points to or what is the base and why women empowerment is still of paramount importance. Every human has the right to education , the right to earn and make living but even our mothers have been told that women are born to serve . A rough primary education is somehow to be completed but marriage is of topmost significance in a woman’s life . Women are the helpers, not the employers . This mind set is a major drawback even in today’s world as there is no sign of independence of women with it . Their entire lives and their family is blindly dependent on the husband’s earning or property of in-laws . They bear all mental pressures or physical tortures just to have a shelter above their head and protect their kids as they know if the husband refuses to support the family after separation or complaint , the family will be doomed . The financial crisis is what they fear because they know that even their children’s future depends on financial support . After all , Money rules the world .

Secondly , a matter which is of great importance that is – love and support of family and friends or social support . A lack of acknowledgement by a woman’s own parents or relatives on the case of domestic violence can also lead to unbroken pattern of bearing physical and mental torture . Most Indian parents believe it is a man’s right to rule over the house and the women after marriage. They believe after the rituals are over a woman is supposed submit herself over to another family and is then under the governance of the in-laws and the real parents have no rights at all to speak for her . The entire society is stuck at this delusion and disturbingly unable to break it. One major example is sexual abuse . Marital rape is not even reviewed as a crime . Even if the woman’s family manages to show sympathy for physical torment , it fails to stand beside her and speak for her in the time of need as they are themselves terrified of the family their daughter is married into and the society and its thoughts . ‘Log Kya Kahenge ?’ ( what will people say? ) is what concerns them more than their own daughter’s health . They believe that a woman breaking a marriage ( forgetting any reasons whatsoever ) will destroy their reputation. The first people we approach when we face problems is our own parents but in this case , most women receive ignorance or rejection of the fact. They are convinced that they have to accept their condition and hence women are afraid to approach anyone further . And even if they manage to stand strong and work against such crimes , where will they seek shelter after an possible outcome of a strong complaint which is divorce or separation? The doors of the homes they considered their own from childhood have been closed shut on their faces . So where will they run to? Who will they look up to in this unblinking unhelpful world?

Comprehension of abuse is of massive importance . Another portion of the group of women facing abuse goes unreported because of the basic inability of recognition of abuse . Creating awareness regarding what abuse consists of is extremely essential in today’s world . Starting from verbal abuse , mental pressures , physical tortures , controlling behaviour to sexual dominance everything counts as abuse . Even if one of these occurs at one time it can be termed as abuse . Often women try to compare their statuses with other women facing troubles . For example – ” Yes , my husband gives me belittling remarks , locks me in the house while the in-laws go out and doesn’t let me do anything of my choice and tells me to follow their orders but I am at least at a safer environment from my neighbour who has to go through the husband’s frustration everyday . At least my husband doesn’t beat me or throws things at me . ” Both cases are of equal importance and should be paid foremost attention to.

The world is suffering through a terrible pandemic which las locked most people inside their homes without jobs and earning. Husbands are staying home for four or five months now and spending time with the family for more than they used to . New colours of abuse are hence on a sharp rise during this period . Increased cases are registered everyday . I will request each and every woman to stand for their own rights . If you feel you are not in a safe environment , if you feel your rights have been snatched away , please don’t be reluctant for once to report it .

“Don’t play his game. Play yours.”

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~āĻŽā§ŒāĻ¨āĻž

THE ONEâ™Ĩī¸

You’re the one my aching heart needs,
I reside in thee all day long.

Feed me your love,
Share with me thine joys and sorrows,
For I belong with thee!

Your heart is my shade,
My comfort zone to rest.

Wipe mine tears ,
Hold mine hands,
Let me hear your heart’s rapid beat!
For, You’re the one for me.

Maybe I won’t be here for long ,
Maybe we won’t meet again,
Maybe I’ll be in your history someday,
But, I’ll come back wandering about aimlessly.
Do give me a shelter in thy heart that day
As I’ve nowhere to go but to you.
For, You’re the one for me!

~Mouna

āĻŽāĻšāĻžāĻ°āĻžāĻœāĻžđŸ’›

āĻ¸āĻ¤ā§āĻ¯āĻœāĻŋā§Ž āĻ°āĻžā§Ÿ

āĻ¨āĻžāĻŽāĻŸāĻž āĻļā§āĻ¨āĻ˛ā§‡āĻ‡ āĻ¯ā§‡ āĻĒā§āĻ°āĻžāĻ¨ā§āĻ¤ā§‡āĻ‡ āĻŦāĻžāĻ™āĻžāĻ˛āĻŋ āĻĨāĻžāĻ•ā§āĻ• , āĻĻā§‡āĻš āĻļāĻŋāĻ‰āĻ°ā§‡ āĻ‰āĻ āĻŦā§‡āĻ‡ . āĻ‰āĻĒā§‡āĻ¨ā§āĻĻā§āĻ°āĻ•āĻŋāĻļā§‹āĻ° āĻ“ āĻ¸ā§āĻ•ā§āĻŽāĻžāĻ° āĻ°āĻžā§Ÿā§‡āĻ° āĻŦāĻ‚āĻļāĻ§āĻ°. āĻŦāĻžāĻ‚āĻ˛āĻž āĻšāĻ˛āĻšāĻŋāĻ¤ā§āĻ°āĻ•ā§‡ āĻŦāĻŋāĻļā§āĻŦāĻŦāĻŋāĻ–ā§āĻ¯āĻžāĻ¤ āĻ•āĻ°āĻžāĻ° āĻĒā§‡āĻ›āĻ¨ā§‡ āĻ¤āĻžāĻāĻ° āĻ…āĻŦāĻĻāĻžāĻ¨ āĻ…āĻ¸ā§€āĻŽ. āĻ˛āĻŽā§āĻŦāĻž āĻ—ā§œāĻ¨ ,āĻ‹āĻœā§ āĻšā§‡āĻšāĻžāĻ°āĻž āĻ“ āĻšāĻžāĻ¤ā§‡ āĻ¸āĻŋāĻ—āĻžāĻ°. āĻĢā§‡āĻ˛ā§āĻĻāĻž āĻĨā§‡āĻ•ā§‡ āĻĒāĻĨā§‡āĻ° āĻĒāĻžāĻāĻšāĻžāĻ˛āĻŋ . āĻšā§€āĻ°āĻ• āĻ°āĻžāĻœāĻžāĻ° āĻĻā§‡āĻļ āĻĨā§‡āĻ•ā§‡ āĻ—ā§āĻĒā§€ āĻ—āĻžāĻ‡āĻ¨ āĻŦāĻžāĻ˜āĻž āĻŦāĻžāĻ‡āĻ¨ , āĻ¤āĻžāĻāĻ° āĻ¸āĻ•āĻ˛ āĻ¸ā§ƒāĻˇā§āĻŸāĻŋ āĻ›āĻŋāĻ˛ āĻ…āĻĻā§āĻŦāĻŋāĻ¤ā§€ā§Ÿ. āĻāĻ•āĻžāĻ§āĻžāĻ°ā§‡ āĻ¤āĻŋāĻ¨āĻŋ āĻ›āĻŋāĻ˛ā§‡āĻ¨ āĻ¸āĻžāĻšāĻŋāĻ¤ā§āĻ¯āĻŋāĻ• ,āĻĒāĻ°āĻŋāĻšāĻžāĻ˛āĻ• , āĻļāĻŋāĻ˛ā§āĻĒā§€ ,āĻ—ā§€āĻ¤āĻŋāĻ•āĻžāĻ° āĻ“ āĻāĻ• āĻ…āĻ¸āĻžāĻŽāĻžāĻ¨ā§āĻ¯ āĻŦā§āĻ¯āĻ•ā§āĻ¤āĻŋāĻ¤ā§āĻŦ. āĻ†āĻœāĻ“ āĻŦāĻžāĻ™āĻžāĻ˛āĻŋāĻ° āĻĄā§āĻ°ā§ŸāĻŋāĻ‚ āĻ°ā§āĻŽā§‡ āĻ¤āĻžāĻāĻ° āĻ›āĻŦāĻŋ āĻŸāĻŋāĻ­āĻŋāĻ° āĻĒāĻ°ā§āĻĻāĻžā§Ÿ āĻŦāĻž āĻ¨ā§‡āĻŸāĻĢā§āĻ˛āĻŋāĻ•ā§āĻ¸ā§‡ āĻ āĻŋāĻ• āĻšāĻ˛ā§‡. āĻ¨āĻŋāĻļā§āĻšāĻŋāĻ¨āĻĻāĻŋāĻĒā§āĻ°ā§‡āĻ° āĻ…āĻĒā§‚ , āĻ—ā§āĻĒā§€ āĻŦāĻžāĻ˜āĻžāĻ° āĻ—āĻžāĻ¨ , āĻĄāĻŋāĻŸā§‡āĻ•ā§āĻŸāĻŋāĻ­ āĻĢā§‡āĻ˛ā§āĻĻāĻžāĻ° āĻŦā§āĻĻā§āĻ§āĻŋ āĻ“ āĻĻā§‚āĻ°āĻĻāĻ°ā§āĻļāĻŋāĻ¤āĻž āĻĻāĻ°ā§āĻļāĻ•āĻĻā§‡āĻ° āĻŽāĻ¨ āĻ•ā§‡ā§œā§‡ āĻ¨ā§‡ā§Ÿ āĻŦāĻžāĻ°āĻ‚āĻŦāĻžāĻ°.
āĻ¤āĻžāĻāĻ° āĻ›āĻŦāĻŋāĻ° āĻĒā§āĻ°āĻ¤ā§āĻ¯ā§‡āĻ•āĻŸāĻŋ āĻ‰āĻ•ā§āĻ¤āĻŋ āĻŦāĻŋāĻļā§āĻŦāĻœā§ā§œā§‡ āĻŦāĻžāĻ™āĻžāĻ˛āĻŋāĻ° āĻŽāĻ¨ā§‡ āĻĻāĻžāĻ— āĻ•ā§‡āĻŸā§‡ āĻĻāĻŋā§Ÿā§‡āĻ›ā§‡.
“āĻĻā§œāĻŋ āĻ§āĻ°ā§‡ āĻŽāĻžāĻ°ā§‹ āĻŸāĻžāĻ¨ , āĻ°āĻžāĻœāĻž āĻšāĻŦā§‡ āĻ–āĻžāĻ¨ āĻ–āĻžāĻ¨”.
āĻ†āĻœ āĻ“ āĻŦāĻžāĻ™āĻžāĻ˛āĻŋ āĻĻā§āĻĒā§āĻ°ā§‡ āĻĢā§‡āĻ˛ā§āĻĻāĻžāĻ° āĻāĻ•āĻŸāĻž āĻŦāĻ‡ āĻšāĻžāĻ¤ā§‡ āĻ¨āĻŋā§Ÿā§‡āĻ‡ āĻ˜ā§āĻŽā§‹āĻ¤ā§‡ āĻ¯āĻžā§Ÿ.
āĻšāĻžāĻ°ā§āĻ˛āĻ¤āĻž āĻĨā§‡āĻ•ā§‡ āĻŽāĻšāĻžāĻ¨āĻ—āĻ°,
āĻ˜āĻ°ā§‡-āĻŦāĻžāĻ‡āĻ°ā§‡ āĻĨā§‡āĻ•ā§‡ āĻļāĻžāĻ–āĻž āĻĒā§āĻ°āĻļāĻžāĻ–āĻž,
āĻĒā§āĻ°āĻ¤āĻŋāĻĻā§āĻŦāĻ¨ā§āĻĻā§€ āĻĨā§‡āĻ•ā§‡ āĻœāĻ¨ āĻ…āĻ°āĻŖā§āĻ¯.
āĻāĻ‡ āĻ¸āĻ•āĻ˛ āĻ¤āĻžāĻāĻ° āĻ…āĻ¨āĻŦāĻĻā§āĻ¯ āĻ›āĻŦāĻŋ āĻ¯āĻžāĻ° āĻŽāĻ§ā§āĻ¯ā§‡ āĻĻāĻŋā§Ÿā§‡ āĻ¤āĻŋāĻ¨āĻŋ āĻĒā§āĻ°āĻœāĻ¨ā§āĻŽ āĻ§āĻ°ā§‡ āĻŦāĻžāĻ™āĻžāĻ˛āĻŋāĻ•ā§‡ āĻ—āĻ°ā§āĻŦāĻŋāĻ¤ āĻ•āĻ°ā§‡ āĻ¤ā§āĻ˛ā§‡āĻ›ā§‡.
āĻ†āĻœ āĻ¤āĻŋāĻ¨āĻŋ āĻŦāĻŋāĻļā§āĻŦāĻŦā§āĻ¯āĻžāĻĒā§€ āĻŽāĻžāĻ¨ā§āĻˇā§‡āĻ° āĻ—āĻ°ā§āĻŦ.
āĻ¤āĻŦā§ āĻ†āĻœ āĻ¤āĻžāĻāĻ° āĻœāĻ¨ā§āĻŽāĻĻāĻŋāĻ¨ā§‡āĻ° āĻļāĻ¤āĻŦāĻžāĻ°ā§āĻˇāĻŋāĻ•ā§€āĻ¤ā§‡ , āĻ¨āĻž āĻŦāĻ˛āĻ˛ā§‡āĻ‡ āĻ¨ā§Ÿ
āĻ¤āĻŋāĻ¨āĻŋ āĻ†āĻŽāĻžāĻĻā§‡āĻ° āĻ—āĻ°ā§āĻŦ .
āĻ¤āĻŋāĻ¨āĻŋ āĻŦāĻžāĻ™āĻžāĻ˛āĻŋāĻ° āĻ—āĻ°ā§āĻŦ .
āĻ•āĻ˛ā§āĻĒāĻ¨āĻžāĻ•ā§‡ āĻŦāĻžāĻ¸ā§āĻ¤āĻŦāĻžā§ŸāĻŋāĻ¤ āĻ•āĻ°āĻ¤ā§‡
āĻ¤āĻŋāĻ¨āĻŋāĻ‡ āĻāĻ•āĻŽāĻžāĻ¤ā§āĻ° āĻĒāĻžāĻ°āĻ¤ā§‡āĻ¨
āĻ¸āĻ¤ā§āĻ¯āĻœāĻŋā§Ž āĻāĻ° āĻŦā§‡āĻļā§‡.

āĻ†āĻœ āĻ¸āĻ•āĻ˛ā§‡ āĻŽāĻŋāĻ˛āĻŋ āĻšā§‡āĻ˛ā§āĻ˛āĻžāĻ‡ āĻ¤āĻŦ āĻ‰āĻĻā§āĻĻā§‡āĻļā§āĻ¯ā§‡,
āĻŽāĻšāĻžāĻ°āĻžāĻœāĻž āĻ¤ā§‹āĻŽāĻžāĻ°ā§‡ āĻ¸ā§‡āĻ˛āĻžāĻŽ.❤ī¸

WINTER NIGHTS💙

On dark winter nights when our sleeplessness plays bad,
The world gets static,
The music slows down
Every being has fallen asleep
And ‘us’ still wide awake.

We tip-toed to the refrigerator to snack on something
Along with the bottle of red wine
Crooning through our childhood days. Discussing politics , literature , economy , society, sharing our perceptions about the world.
We’d talk gibberish in a half drunken state of faint voices.

My hands on yours, as we lie on the bed wrapped up in each other’s arms
The room adorned with the crimson fairy lights that we put up for the Christmas eve.

Suddenly my eyes met yours,
Your lips touched mine
The acoustic love song playing in the background
Teardrops rolled down my puffed cheeks

Sitting by the window, i got scared by the thunderstorms and grabbed onto you tight for there I felt nothing can ever find me

The silence between us talked of everything our hearts had to express

I snuggled into your arms as we both fall asleep
In that winter dark night
The echoes of which still run down the doors of my heart ,
Two souls engrossed and lost far away from the universe,
In love!

~Mouna

āĻœāĻžāĻ—ā§‹ āĻ¨āĻžāĻ°ā§€đŸ§Ą

āĻšā§āĻĒ !

āĻ¨āĻžāĻ°ā§€ āĻ¤ā§āĻ‡ !
āĻ†āĻ° āĻ•āĻ¤ āĻšā§‹āĻ–ā§‡āĻ° āĻœāĻ˛ āĻĢā§‡āĻ˛āĻŦāĻŋ āĻāĻ‡ āĻĒāĻžāĻˇāĻžāĻ¨ āĻĻāĻžāĻ¨āĻŦ āĻ—ā§āĻ˛ā§‹āĻ° āĻœāĻ¨ā§āĻ¯?

āĻ…āĻ¨ā§‡āĻ• āĻ¤ā§‹ āĻšāĻ˛ā§‹, āĻĨāĻžāĻŽ āĻāĻŦāĻžāĻ° !
āĻ†āĻœ āĻĨā§‡āĻ•ā§‡ āĻ¨ā§Ÿ, āĻļā§āĻ°ā§ āĻšā§Ÿā§‡āĻ›ā§‡ āĻ¸ā§‡āĻ‡ āĻĒā§āĻ°āĻžāĻšā§€āĻ¨ āĻ¯ā§āĻ— āĻĨā§‡āĻ•ā§‡ āĻ¤āĻž āĻŽāĻšāĻžāĻ­āĻžāĻ°āĻ¤ āĻšā§‹āĻ• āĻŦāĻž āĻ°āĻžāĻŽāĻžā§ŸāĻŖ!
āĻŽāĻžāĻ¨ā§āĻˇ āĻ¨āĻžāĻ•āĻŋ āĻ¤ā§āĻ‡ āĻ¨āĻžāĻ°ā§€!? āĻ°āĻ•ā§āĻ¤āĻŽāĻžāĻ‚āĻ¸-āĻ¸ā§āĻ¤āĻ¨ āĻ†āĻ° āĻ¯ā§ŒāĻ¨āĻ¨āĻžāĻ˛ā§€āĻ‡ āĻ¤ā§‹āĻ° āĻ¸āĻŽā§āĻĒāĻĻ āĻ¸ā§‡ āĻ¯āĻ¤āĻ‡ āĻ¤ā§āĻ‡ āĻšā§‡āĻāĻ¸ā§‡āĻ˛ āĻ¸āĻžāĻŽāĻ˛āĻž āĻŦāĻž āĻšāĻžāĻāĻĻ āĻāĻ‡ āĻ¯āĻž!


āĻ•āĻ¤ āĻ•āĻžāĻ¨ā§āĻ¨āĻž; āĻ•āĻ¤ āĻ•āĻˇā§āĻŸ !
āĻ¨āĻŋāĻ°ā§āĻ­ā§ŸāĻž, āĻ†āĻ¸āĻŋāĻĢāĻž, āĻĒā§āĻ°āĻŋā§ŸāĻžāĻ™ā§āĻ•āĻž, āĻ•āĻ¤ āĻšāĻžāĻ‡ ..?
āĻŦāĻŋāĻ•ā§āĻˇā§‹āĻ­ āĻšāĻ˛āĻ›ā§‡, āĻŽāĻŋāĻ›āĻŋāĻ˛ āĻ“ āĻšāĻ˛āĻ›ā§‡, āĻŦāĻŋāĻĒā§āĻ˛āĻŦ āĻ˜āĻŸāĻ›ā§‡, āĻ¸āĻŽāĻžāĻœ āĻ¨āĻžāĻ•āĻŋ” āĻ‰āĻ¨ā§āĻ¨āĻ¤āĻŋ āĻ•āĻ°āĻ›ā§‡”!


āĻ¸āĻŦ āĻšāĻšā§āĻ›ā§‡ āĻ¤āĻŦā§‡ āĻ¨āĻžāĻ°ā§€ āĻ¤ā§āĻ‡ āĻļā§āĻ§ā§ āĻļā§‹āĻˇāĻŖā§‡āĻ°āĻ‡ āĻ¯ā§‹āĻ—ā§āĻ¯āĻ•āĻžāĻ°āĻŋ.


āĻ˛āĻŽā§āĻĒāĻŸāĻ—ā§āĻ˛ā§‹āĻ•ā§‡ āĻœāĻ¨ā§āĻŽ āĻ¤ā§āĻ‡ āĻĻāĻŋā§Ÿā§‡āĻ›āĻŋāĻ¸,āĻ­āĻžāĻ˛ā§‹ āĻ¤ā§āĻ‡-āĻ‡ āĻŦā§‡āĻ¸ā§‡āĻ›āĻŋāĻ¸, āĻ¤ā§‹āĻ° āĻŦā§āĻāĻ•ā§‡āĻ° āĻĻā§āĻ§ āĻ–ā§‡ā§Ÿā§‡āĻ‡ āĻ¤āĻžāĻ°āĻž āĻ†āĻœ āĻāĻ• āĻāĻ•āĻŸāĻž āĻĻāĻžāĻ¨āĻŦā§‡ āĻĒāĻ°āĻŋāĻŖāĻ¤ āĻšā§Ÿā§‡āĻ›ā§‡!


āĻ¤āĻžāĻšāĻ˛ā§‡?


āĻ†āĻŦāĻžāĻ° āĻĻā§‹āĻˇ āĻ¸ā§‡āĻ‡ āĻ¤ā§‹āĻ°, āĻ¨āĻžāĻ°ā§€ !


āĻ›ā§‹āĻŸā§‹ āĻœāĻžāĻŽāĻž āĻĒā§œā§‡āĻ›āĻŋāĻ˛āĻŋāĻ¸,
āĻ…āĻ¤ āĻ°āĻžāĻ¤ā§āĻ°ā§‡ āĻāĻ•āĻ˛āĻž āĻāĻ•āĻŸāĻž āĻŽā§‡ā§Ÿā§‡ āĻŦā§‡āĻ°ā§‹ā§Ÿ āĻ•āĻ–āĻ¨ā§‹!?
āĻ¨āĻŋāĻļā§āĻšāĻ‡ āĻ¤ā§āĻ‡ āĻ‰āĻ¸ā§āĻ•ā§‡āĻ›āĻŋāĻ˛āĻŋāĻ¸ āĻ¤āĻžāĻ‡â€Ļ


āĻŦāĻ˛āĻŋ āĻ…āĻ¨ā§‡āĻ• āĻ¤ā§‹ āĻšāĻ˛ā§‹, āĻ¤āĻžāĻ‡ āĻ¨ā§Ÿ āĻ•āĻŋ? āĻāĻ•āĻŦāĻžāĻ° āĻĻā§‡āĻ–āĻžāĻ¨ā§‹ āĻ¯āĻžāĻ• āĻ¨āĻž āĻŽāĻž āĻĻā§‚āĻ°ā§āĻ—āĻž āĻļā§āĻ§ā§ āĻĒā§āĻ¯āĻžāĻ¨ā§āĻĄā§‡āĻ˛ā§‡ āĻ¸āĻžāĻœāĻžāĻ¨ā§‹āĻ° āĻœāĻ¨ā§āĻ¯ āĻŽā§ƒāĻ¤ āĻŽā§‚āĻ°ā§āĻ¤āĻŋ āĻ¨ā§Ÿ !
āĻ¤āĻŋāĻ¨āĻŋ āĻŦāĻŋāĻ¸āĻ°ā§āĻœāĻ¨ āĻ¯āĻžāĻ“ā§ŸāĻžāĻ° āĻœāĻ¨ā§āĻ¯ āĻ†āĻ¸ā§‡āĻ¨āĻ¨āĻž!
āĻĒā§āĻ°āĻ¤ā§āĻ¯ā§‡āĻ•āĻŸāĻŋ āĻ¨āĻžāĻ°ā§€āĻ° āĻŽāĻ§ā§āĻ¯ā§‡āĻ‡ āĻœā§€āĻŦāĻŋāĻ¤ āĻ°ā§Ÿā§‡āĻ›ā§‡ āĻ¸ā§‡āĻ‡ āĻ˛ā§āĻ•ā§‹āĻ¨ā§‹ āĻŽāĻšāĻŋāĻˇāĻžāĻ¸ā§āĻ° āĻŽāĻ°ā§āĻĻāĻŋāĻ¨ā§€, āĻ…āĻļā§āĻ­ āĻļāĻ•ā§āĻ¤āĻŋāĻ° āĻŦāĻŋāĻ¨āĻžāĻļā§€āĻ¨āĻŋ, āĻĻā§‡āĻŦā§€ āĻĻā§‚āĻ°ā§āĻ—āĻž!
āĻāĻ–āĻ¨ āĻ¸āĻŽā§Ÿ āĻāĻ¸ā§‡āĻ›ā§‡ āĻ¤ā§āĻ°āĻŋāĻļā§‚āĻ˛ āĻ“ āĻ–āĻ°āĻ—ā§‹ āĻšāĻ¸ā§āĻ¤ā§‡ āĻ§āĻžāĻ°āĻŖ āĻ•āĻ°āĻžāĻ°.


āĻ•ā§‹āĻ¨ā§‹ āĻ¸āĻ°āĻ•āĻžāĻ°,āĻ•ā§‹āĻ¨ā§‹ āĻ†āĻ‡āĻ¨,āĻ•ā§‹āĻ¨ā§‹ āĻ¨āĻŋā§ŸāĻŽ āĻ¨ā§Ÿ,
āĻ§āĻ°ā§āĻˇāĻŖāĻ•āĻžāĻ°āĻŋ āĻāĻŦāĻ‚ āĻ§āĻ°ā§āĻˇāĻŖ āĻšāĻŦā§‡ āĻāĻŦāĻžāĻ° āĻ¤ā§‹āĻĻā§‡āĻ° āĻ‡āĻ¤āĻŋ .


āĻœāĻžāĻ—ā§‹ āĻ¨āĻžāĻ°ā§€, āĻ¤ā§āĻŽāĻŋ āĻļāĻ•ā§āĻ¤āĻŋāĻ° āĻ…āĻ§āĻŋāĻ•āĻžāĻ°ā§€
āĻĻā§‡āĻ–āĻžāĻ“ āĻ¤ā§‹āĻŽāĻžāĻ° āĻ§āĻ‚āĻļāĻžāĻ¸āĻ¨āĻŋ āĻ¸ā§‡āĻ‡ āĻ°ā§‚āĻĒ
āĻ†āĻ°ā§‡āĻ•āĻŦāĻžāĻ° āĻ¤ā§‹āĻŽāĻžāĻ° āĻĒāĻžā§Ÿā§‡ āĻ˛ā§āĻŸāĻŋā§Ÿā§‡ āĻĒā§œā§āĻ• āĻ¸āĻ•āĻ˛ āĻ…āĻ¸ā§āĻ°
āĻ•āĻžāĻāĻĒā§āĻ• āĻ­ā§Ÿā§‡ āĻĻā§ˆāĻ¤ā§āĻ¯āĻŽāĻ¨ā§āĻĄāĻ˛ āĻĻā§‡āĻ–ā§‡ āĻ¤ā§‹āĻŽāĻžāĻ° āĻ°ā§‚āĻĒ
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THE BEST GIFT.💙

The Universe’s gift ?
“Could it be just the stars that the universe bestowed upon us?”
I pointed my finger at the sky and started connecting the stars randomly.

I actually gazed and suddenly my eyes struck something else when my mind suddenly asked,
“Are they? Really?”
It lead to a overwhelming stillness .

I closed my eyes for a while , trying to memorize every detail of him
Is it me or him changing the appearance everytime and giving me a jolt each time my eyes caught sight of him?

Uhmm my recent memory of him~ Ah, it was just a few days back,
His eyes were like the deep endless ocean, his lips ashen like the dimly lit sky of an autumn evening when the yellow street lights fell on his face while the car was moving past.
That night, his eyebrows were tenebrous and longing,
His lips were chapped but with a touch of paleness, his laughs a bit empty.

Those eyes were enough to hold a galaxy and make someone drown into its depth
The serene eyes where lives an infinite number of stars for anyone to get lost
The nose where the nebulas are said to be born
Those lips ~ the monochromatic rainbow from a storm
That face ~ it’s the moon that can lighten up the darkest nights
He’s the sun that can glow everything up and shove off the darkness
The entire universe and its figures were not enough to describe him.

Silence still lingersâ€Ļ.
I began to look out of the window and again looked back at him
I muttered
“The vessel of a whole universe!”.
And the final product of a million stardust bonded together by countless atomic particles and with life by the Almighty.

“The Universe indeed gave me a better gift than the stars!”

Hypothetically, I could feel his breathesâ€Ļhis heart beatingâ€Ļ..

Maybe for everyone, the stars are the most beautiful gift of the universe.
But for me,
“ Its you Champ, that is!’