DEAR EXAMINATION BOARDS
91,000 rupees
That's 700 US Dollars
That's 2800 gumballs
That's 2 xbox 360s
That's 3 months
of my salary savings
91,000 rupees
That's the price of 3 unmarked A level papers
That's 4 hearts broken
That's 2 pairs of hopeful eyes, now downcast
That's 1 person's dreams shattered
91,000 rupees
That's a tear stained piece of paper
That's a week wondering where you went wrong
That's a bright future, now full of storm clouds
91,000 rupees is
An organisation of thieves
emptying pockets and dreams
to feed the ever-hungry abyss
that is their dark, rotting hearts
Like they enjoy crushing hope
Like they enjoy oppressing the young
Like they have the right
to give us a paper with 4 Us
and tell us
it will determine our future
Rob us like you can brand us
F for Fool; I refuse to be a grade on a paper
that some man in a far off land
marked me to be
Watch as we defy the system
The generation of the great rebellion
Watch as we
Write poetry
Join rowing clubs
Paint the walls of your institution : Sunshine
Watch as we
Refuse to conform to the
"Failures" you branded
across our foreheads
We will make that D stand for Determined
E for still Excelling
F for Fuck your shit,
I'm still going places.
We will keep our chins held high,
Rage against your ignorance,
We will never stop rebelling against this system you try to fit us into
We will be oddballs, free thinkers, artists; happy!
You will be old and frail and you will wish
You didn't ignite your own ruination.
HANDS
I loved him.
His brown eyes and large hands
that held me too tight sometimes
His wanting that would turn me to stone
and the cold I felt when he held me - I loved
him.
It wasn't uncommon
when a loud and resounding 'no'
clawed its way up my throat
but sound failed at my lips
my hands shaking too hard
to grasp the steering wheel of control
my mind reeling too fast
to separate right from wrong
and the only echo of refusal
screaming out in my wide and frightened eyes
but left unnoticed
by lustful hands.
I kept telling myself I loved him
for far too long, I'm afraid
That I'd give anything to keep him happy
Little knowing, my dignity
and self respect
were part of the package.
In the last stages
of an abusive relationship
I fought to break free
And freedom I found
Too familiar with the fact that
refusal may have died at my lips
but demons were born within
In the deepest crevices of my being
they reached with dark hands
to claw at my sanity.
Listening to my story
you must want to tell me
I was young and naïve and stupid
That I didn't know
That I should have known.
But truth is,
even if you had told me
I wouldn't have fully comprehended
the depth of sexual coercion
I wouldn't have fully comprehended
that rape was not just forced
but it was also
what was happening to me
not until the unforgiving chains
of experience pulled at me
dragging me down
trapping me in the cynical darkness of my
mind
blaming me for mistakes
I should have known better than to make
Making regret stem like a weed
That crawled into the happiness of my soul
And began to eat away at the sunshine
Engulfing me in an endless nothing
That spanned for months
A nothing that I did not know to fight
That did not want to
But regret is a piteous place to dwell in
And the pain from the past is also experience
Though scars run too deep
You must not forget, beauty flows endlessly
Though you were once preyed upon
By insipid vultures
You are strong
You are important
And you will fight to break free
and it's okay
To say no
Repeatedly
It's okay to refuse to be used
Or abused as a tool
As an object
You've got to know, you matter.
And no one's going to make you
Any less than you are.
RULES OF A SRI LANKAN MAN
To be a true and honest Sri Lankan man,
you need to make pedestrian women feel
as uncomfortable as you possibly can.
Honk your horns at her. Wolf whistle.
Let her see the lust and longing ,
as you slowly undress her with your eyes,
when you sit across her in a train.
Do this for the entirety of the ride and
make no attempt to conceal any extruding body parts because
You're man!
When walking past pretty girls on the street,
be sure to subtly lean in and whisper something dirty in her ear like,
"Hey baby, nice ass", and keep walking.
When travelling with friends,
be sure to divert all your attention to a singular by standing woman
and make subtle comments about her appearance.
Be sure she hears. Be sure you laugh as loud as you could.
And if any of the above happens to your mother or sister,
be sure to hunt that asshole down and make him pay through his teeth.
Dear Sri Lankan boys,
My body is not a public commodity.
My assets are not yours to savour.
Dear Sri Lankan boys,
You are the reason a man with good intentions can't approach a woman
because he'd only be greeted by a sceptic glare
or the occasional slap across the face
You are the reason women are so afraid
to accept a kind word, a helpful gesture,
without being instantly suspicious and wary.
I can't tell you how many times I've had to yell at a man
trying to grab, grope or sneak a peak
I can't tell you how many times I've had to stand there
Silently frothing,
as I felt irregular protrusions against my back
because my protests will only backfire
as ridicule and ignorance.
There will be no defence 'cause boys will be boys,
just trying to have some fun,
But let me assure you, sir,
My body is not your play toy.
Dear Sri Lankan men,
You need to teach your sons how to treat women
before restricting your daughters from living their lives
That it does not matter if my jeans are too tight,
my sleeves too short, or my makeup too heavy,
I am a woman.
You need to stop defining us like we're part of the furniture
Like I'm a punching bag, a window,
A toilet to take all your shit.
I am more than my ass or these breasts I was cursed with
I am a person
With the right to wrap my hands around your damned throat
if you ever touch me again.
And then there will be no defence
I will need no sympathy from bystanders
too narrow minded to stop street harassment
Because girls will be girls, doing what we have the right to
Protect ourselves.