'Rage' aajkal one of my favorite words hai. Pehle gussa aaya, phir 'rage becomes her' padhi, phir toh behadh gussa aaya, phir jaane kisi tarah usse redirect karke 2-3 poems likhi aur bhaagna shuru kar diya. I think it is symbolic of trying to run away.
Iss se pehle aap mujhe kisi mahaan controlled productive insaan ka darjaa de, main bohot tooti bhi hoon iss gusse mein. Kabhi gussa aise paet mein baeth gaya, ki 6 din bhookh hee nahi lagi. Ek-do baar chhup ke smoke bhi kiya. Kabhi 'Mard ko Dard Nahi Hota' maafik ek dum mann kiya ki kaash aankhon mein laser hota. Dishoom, dishoom! (Pretty sure ki laser marne se aisa sound toh nahi aaega).
Itna gussa hai na andar, kabhi kabhi samajh nahi aata iska kya karun. Meri therapist kehti hai I don't pay attention to how much it must be tiring my body.
The artist in me really badly wanted to make a portrait of an angry woman but kasam se online itni caricaturish pictures hai na of angry women ki gussa badega hee. The best picture I could find was of Safeena from Gully Boy. Ye waali -
Alia Bhatt sach mein kamaal hai! Har baar inke baare mein soch kar Safeena ke gusse par likha hua ye article yaad aata hai. As the author says -
"Ask any woman and she’ll relate dozens of incidents when she, too, wanted to express her rage through violence. Break bottles, break jaws, claw, thwack, pummel or thump someone so they rue the day they decided to cross her. Most of us probably won’t act on the instinct."
I know how badly I've wished I would/could.
I don't know Safeena ka gussa kahan se aata hai (ya kabhi kabhi sochti hoon kahan se nahin aata hoga?) Duniya jhand hai. But kisi bhi aurat ko khured ke dekho, neeche aag zaroor milegi.
Ye poem aur bhi interesting ban jaati hai, the more I think about it. I think gussa ek non-reciprocity se aata hai. Humko toh emotional labor ka incharge bana diya gaya hai bachpan se, par jab humara dard, humara gussa, humara care acknowledge bhi nahin hota, toh aag nahi lagegi kya? Aur phir bola, ki gussa dikhao bhi mat!
Mard bimaar ho toh aurat dhyaan rakhe. Aurat bimaar ho toh wo khud ka dhyaan rakhe. Aur jo 'woke' hai aadmi hum mein, wo kehte hai ki tum help kyun nahi maangi? Kya help maangna bhi kaam nahi hai? Can we not be too tired to even ask for help? And will you refuse to care if we don't tell you to?
Jaanti hoon bohot over-generalized lag raha hai. But baat karo apne aas paas ke logon se. Observe karo apne saamne ke relationships ko. Phir bolna kitna sahi kitna galat hai.
Back to the poem, where credit is due, pehli line Ghalib ji se uthaayi hai.
برہم
اسی پی شہر کی ساری ہوئیں برہم تھی
بدن، لہو، من میں چبھن تھی
کی نہ چاہتے ہوئے بھی
مجھے آج پھر تمہاری فکر تھی
اور یہ جانتے ہوئے بھی
تمہارا فون نہیں آیا
Barham
Issi pe sheher ki saari hawayein barham thi
Badan, lahoo, mann mein chubhan thi
Ki na chaahte hue bhi
Mujhe aaj phir tumhari fiqr thi
Aur ye jaante hue bhi
Tumhara phone nahi aaya.
P.S. - Found this piece of gold today-
