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💬 “Do you ever feel that way?"

"Lonely?" I search for the words. "Restless. As if you haven't really met yourself yet. As is you'd passed yourself once in the fog, and your heart leapt - 'Ah! There I Am! I've been missing that piece!' But it happens too fast, and then that part of you disappears into the fog again. And you spend the rest of your days looking for it." He nods, and I think he's appeasing me. I feel stupid of having said it. It's sentimental and true, and I've revealed a part of myself I shouldn't have. "Do you know what I think?" Kartik says at last. "What?" "Sometimes, I think you can glimpse it in another.” ― Libba Bray, The Sweet Far Thing

 💬 .“The way I walk now you'd have a hard time recognizing me,on these streets where l once imagined walking with you.Hand in hand,like we always did,and it never mattered where we were going because it was all just fine.I was always fine.But they rest restlessly in my pockets now,in a new town,on these new streets,and it's heavy to stay standing for my body is half the size when you're gone and these buildings are tall and old and beautiful and I wonder what secrets they hold.How to stand so proud after so many years because I'm still young but I feel worn and l get through the days on too much caffeine and mood altering chemicals to stay awake long enough to make the poetry come alive.I fall asleep on the floor with the music still playing when my neighbour leaves for the office and I'm jealous.I

wonder what it's like to go outside and know where to go,know where you want to end up and just simply go there.I've been making lists of things I want to do,where to go and who to be,now that you're gone,and it's nice and all,it's just ...I'd rather write it with you,and go there with you.Be things with you.There were days when I stayed awake till midnight in case you'd come back, but you didn't,I wear the same clothes and shower in the rain,eat when I can and sleep when I can,which is rare and not often,so if you'd see me now on these streets where l once imagined walking with you you'd have a hard time recognizing me.It takes a lot to run away
."-Charlotte Eriksson

 

They either come back or they don’t.

That’s what you tell yourself. That’s what you learn. As you go through mundane days with so much of pain beating in your chest that you feel it will explode. You strike days off your calendar, waiting, going for a run, picking up a new hobby, while trying to numb that part of your brain that refuses to forget the little details of your skin. Soon, you start sleeping in the middle of the bed, learn how to get through the evenings alone, go to cafes and cities alone, you learn how to cook enough dinner for yourself and just make do without the kisses on your neck. You learn…Adjust..Accept.. The tumor of pain already exploded one lonely night when you played his voice recording by mistake.. by mistake.. But you didn’t die.. Did you? They either come back.. or they don’t.. You survive..” ― Ayushee Ghoshal, 4 AM Conversations

 

After a day of rush, just like every other evening you come back to your small rented apartment in a crowded but lonely city. But there is something different about the evening, you cannot draw out the feeling from the stacks of a thousand clusters of thoughts residing in your head. You try to gather your thoughts by being in your safe haven of an apartment that you call home. The daily struggle of work has made you are exhausted, tired, and alone lying on your messy bed. You haven't changed your clothes nor have you taken off your shoes.

You are there just lying down, staring at the light but diving down into a darkness. Suddenly, your growling stomach takes you out of your meditating state and you remember, you haven't eaten anything since the morning. You feel the weakness from the hunger, but still it’s not enough to conquer your void and more importantly your laziness, to get you out from your thought process and into your apron to make you start cooking.

Since you decided that spacing out is all you want to do for the day, you commence your contemplation with a stream of thoughts inhabiting your mind. You even start to question your existence. With every thought that you pass by, you get more and more certain that you have a messed up life, you literally live alone, you have nobody to talk to except your conscience and hence no one to share your feelings.

But you take a deep breath and look at your walls and ceilings and you feel a sense of calm in you. It gives u a faith of consistency. No matter what may happen to your day to day life when you get back to your place with all of the days burden; you always have them looking upon you, never questioning your decisions nor your choices just ready to listen.

Now your thoughts want to become your voice. You feel like as long as there is someone to listen to you, you are willing to share your thoughts. From the corner of your eye a pack of cigarette tries to peek into your field of vision, as if it is trying to say I am here for you. And you being a loner of a person, gives him company by putting him on your lips and lighting it on fire. The irony of it all, ‘the only thing that wants to give you more company, you burn it down into ashes’.

As, you have your buddy with you and things that want to listen too, you start uttering words expressing your deep down feelings. The more you convey, the more you realize that you have been used a thousand times, broken a thousand times and in no way is your life going towards where you thought it would go, when you used to tell people about your goals in life as a damn kid without having any clue what life had to offer or what you had to offer to life in order to survive.

You keep making companion out of your cigarettes and burning it down to ashes. The more you talk about your failures in life and what it has turned your life into, to a greater extent you feel complete, you feel more competent. Yet, you cannot draw an end to your failures in life nor the time that you got knocked down. But you are optimistic that you can say it all eventually as long as you have a company. However, seems like even your companion for pain is saying its goodbye to you as you hold your last breathe of cigarette in your lungs.

With no one to hold your hands through the conversation, you no longer have the desire to talk to anyone or want to convey your feelings. You just want to sleep now as everything has tolled upon you from the exhaustion, to the boredom, to everything that has happened in your life till now. With still a lot more to say you decide to sleep, but with a lighter heart than what it weighed before taking off all the different emotions that you expressed. However, leaving allot more to express for some other day, allot more weight on your heart to take off for some other day and finding a new companion for another day

-Neha Sharma

💬 “...You should love something fully while you have it, even if you know you'll lose it someday. We lose everything. If you're trying to avoid loss, there's no point in taking another breath, or letting your heart beat one more time. It all ends. His fingers curl around her. There are moments, when you’re getting to know someone, when you realize something deep and buried in you is deep and buried in them, too. It feels like meeting a stranger you’ve known your whole life. That's all life is. Breathing in, breathing out. The space between two breaths. “It could have been anyone,” she said. “All the women who look at you when we go out. Why me?” He stared at the coffee table, the reflection of snow like confectioner’s sugar sifting down. “It couldn’t have been anyone,” he said softly. “For a long time before I met you, I felt my life was this kind of test. I was in deep, cold water, swimming for shore, and my arms were getting tired, my skin numb. On the shore was everything I thought I wanted: a better job, a house, a family.” He swallowed, his throat cording with tension. “But I could barely keep my head above water. Eventually I stopped seeing the shore. Only cold dark blue, in all directions. I know it’s cliché, but when I met you, my eyes opened. I looked around, and realized I could stand up whenever I wanted. There was firm ground under my feet. That shore in the distance was an illusion. I was already somewhere beautiful.”

-Leah Raeder

We are hearing a lot of cases of rape these days all around the world and the number is still increasing daily.  Estimated rape statistics of some of the countries, per year are, South Africa have 500,000 rapes per year (1), China have 31,833 rapes a year (2), Egypt have more than 200,000 rapes a year (3), and the United Kingdom at 85,000 rapes a year (4).

According to an article published by MyRepublica , Six rape cases reported daily in Nepal (5)

Above, we talked about the number of rape or rape attempts done my men to women but what about the number of rape or rape attempts done my women to men. 

Can a woman rape a man?

Some of the readers might be laughing even thinking about this “How on this earth is it possible that a woman rapes a man?” Yeah, I agree, it seems pretty difficult for a woman to rape a man because of man’s physical strength which is greater than a woman in general. And yes, how can we forget about the “erection” without which sexual intercourse is near to impossible because we all know without a man being sexually aroused, erection is impossible and when a man is aroused, it is now a casual sex, not a rape or a forced sex because now his erection shows that he is interested too. 

Some might be thinking that this is not even a crime. Some even might be thinking that a man must be too lucky to get raped by a woman, but this is not the case always. There are lots of men are the victim of forced sex.

The story below is an example of how men are also being sexually abused and raped by women.

The story is extracted from a news article on BBC News as it is (6).

 Some readers will find this story disturbing

Dr. Siobhan Weare of Lancaster University Law School carried out the first research into forced penetration in the UK in 2016-7, gathering information from more than 200 men via an online survey.

Her latest study, published this week - based on one-to-one interviews with 30 men between May 2018 and July 2019 - explores in greater detail the context in which forced penetration occurs, its consequences, and the response of the criminal justice system.

All the participants were anonymized, but I will call one of them John.

John says the first sign that something was wrong was when his partner started to self-harm. After a particularly frightening incident, he rushed her to A&E for treatment. The couple spent hours discussing possible psychological causes.

About six months later instead of harming herself, she trained her sights on John.

"I was sitting in the living room and she just came in from the kitchen, punched me very hard on the nose and ran off giggling," John says. "The violence then started happening quite regularly."

She tried to get help from her GP, John says. She had some counseling, and she was referred to a psychologist - though she didn't attend the appointment.

She'd come home from her job "and basically demand sex", he says.

"She would be violent, and it got to the stage that I dreaded her coming back from work."

On one occasion John woke up to find that his partner had handcuffed his right arm to the metal bed frame. Then she started hitting him on the head with a loudspeaker from the stereo system beside the bed, tied up his other arm with some nylon rope and tried to force him to have sex.

Scared and in pain, John was unable to comply with her demands - so she beat him again and left him chained up for half an hour, before returning and freeing him. Afterward ,she refused to talk about what had happened.

Not long after that she became pregnant, and the violence abated. But a few months after the baby was born, John again woke one night to discover that he was being handcuffed to the bed.

Then, he says, his partner force-fed him Viagra and gagged him.

"There was nothing I could do about it," he says.

"Later I went and sat in the shower for I dunno how long… I eventually went downstairs. The first thing she said to me when I went into the room was, 'What's for dinner?'"

When John has tried to tell people about it, he says he has often met with disbelief.

"I've been asked why I didn't leave the house. Well, it was my house that I'd bought for my kids. And the financial side as well, I was so locked into the relationship financially," he says.

"I still get disbelief because it's like, 'Well why didn't you hit her back?' I get that quite a lot. Well that's a lot easier said than done.

"I wish I'd run away a lot sooner."

Thank you  for taking time to read this article. Do comment below what you feel about this topic. 😊😊

References:

1.       http://www.thenewhumanitarian.org/report/84909/south-africa-one-four-men-rape

2.       http://www.uschina.usc.edu/w_usci/showarticle.aspx?articleID=13037&AspxAutoDetectCookieSupport=1

3.       http://www.escapeartistes.com/2012/04/26/how-safe-is-egypt-after-the-revolution/

4.       https://www.bbc.co.uk/blogs/thereporters/markeaston/2008/07/rape_a_complex_crime.html

5.       https://myrepublica.nagariknetwork.com/news/six-rape-cases-reported-daily-in-nepal/

6.       https://www.bbc.com/news/stories-49057533