This one means a lot to me, kind of got emotional towards the end. Let me know how was this for you, cheers guys ❤ ❤ Hope looked like red. As my father laid on uneven ground, Blood seething from his gunshot wound, While he slumped in a puddle of red liquid, Looking towards my mother Who was being beaten by villagers, For committing the … Continue reading What does hope look like?
The line between consent and assault is blurred in my memory If I gave consent – but I was only a child while he was three years ahead, a senior taking advantage of a freshman is that considered non-consensual? Even though I did not say no. This memory has been suppressed for over two years I don’t remember many details other than his hand pressed … Continue reading Consent- No means no.
This is a true incident that happened to me during my childhood. I never met my grandma, as she passed away when I was very small. I always yearned for bedtime stories, the lovely warmth of her love, being spoiled by her but my parents fulfilled all of these affections instead and now I understand how much pain my mom dealt with when she went … Continue reading During my childhood days
Remember those ‘dabba’ days when we used to share ours together without caring who thought what of us judging with their hungry eyes. Remember those ‘dabba’ days when the teacher turned his back on his we immediately started to gorge on food opening tiffins without thinking what was inside. Remember those ‘dabba’ days when my momma was sick, no one was there to cook for … Continue reading Those Dabba Days