Karina Pandya

She lay there on the road, eyes bruised and vision faded. Cars were racing past her, and she couldn’t stand up to help herself. She muttered something to herself, something no one bothered to listen to or even understand. Far from survival and so close to death her world was so limited. No one around saw the fear in her eyes, no one stopped to think of how she felt; nor did they see the pain she was in. No one understood her or what she said and frankly no one had the time to. This is the condition of majority of the women below the socio-economic line in our country. These are the women who suffer from mental disorders in our country, not due to any fault on their side but because circumstances have been unfortunate for them. Circumstances which could stem right from abuse from the family, husband or other situational factors. Yet, we all live ignoring this marginalized section of the society- the people who need our attention. Who is to blame? Is it their fault, or is it just d

I always thought that anyone could write; that there was nothing special to be able to vocalize/verbalize oneself, and have that put down on paper. Things changed though, after I started writing. It was like I had won a race; without having moved a step forward. That’s the gift of language. What we feel, and how we vocalize those emotions completely gets channelized through mere adjectives, verbs, and nouns. We can have, some of the best conversations through writing. The physical absence of a friend; or relative can be bridged through communication. Countless emotions are let on the loose through writing, emotions we never knew would surface. I write as an instrument of expressing myself, and thoughts. Expression of thought is the most vital things one needs to be comfortable doing. One can’t bottle up one’s emotions to have it displaced upon another object. It needs to be channelized through the right medium, in the right way. Thus, by writing down my feelings I fee