I was confused about love

I was confused about what love was when it first came because I was taught love from Bollywood movies where Raj gets uncomfortably close to Simran even when she doesn’t want him to. And Raj was supposed to be the good guy and Simran the typical example of an ideal brown girl. I was taught that all girls should want a Raj what I don’t understand is why Raj couldn’t take no for an answer.

I was confused about love when it first came barging through the door.  I was taught by the stories we grew up with that the boy always rushes into your life but I wanted him to knock

I was confused what love was when I heard it had rules (why was my best friend’s ex boyfriend so cute?) And they said you’d get hurt if you disobeyed but they also said love makes you feel good. I was confused about how good it felt when his body pressed too hard against mine, when he told me not to speak, when he raised his hands when my voice was extinguished by those char diwaris. It didn’t feel good at all.

I was taught about love by poems I read about drunken nights and shy eyes but when love came drenched in alcohol talking in his slurred accent something seemed off. Maybe it was just me but I found no beauty in how he slammed my body. I found myself insulted. I found myself weak.

We were grown up in a sisterhood of secrets where we all know the reasons behind circles around our dues but no on says it’s because we were up all nights against our will.

We were taught to hide the obvious facts for the sake of an honour we buy and sell. We were taught to talk in whispers and to cut out the important parts. We were taught to sign the contract but excuse the love part. We were grown up in a place of sincerity to all those that disobeyed the laws of humanity. We were sworn into a society where we never fit in.

I was always confused about love because I grew up with a confused country whose culture tends to revolve around western ideals and eastern morals. A place where I never knew who to identify with because one made me seemed oppressed and the other immoral.

I was taught two separate notions. One taught me love doesn’t exist the other that it hurts. One taught me love is an American idea that marriage is a contract and the other taught me marriage is a joke. I was confused about love because I was taught it centres around marriage in the first place.

I was confused about love because it was taught to me instead of explained. I was confused about love because I was the only one who learnt it.

I was confused because my brother never bothered thinking about it.  He was never educated about the intricacies. No, he was taught only to make money to support his family that he would never be there for, or to make love to random girls that their parents hand picked for this very desire. That’s all he was ever taught by those dramas where the girl obeys every desire of men.  He was taught by Raj to flirt with random girls on the train. His education is the one he gets from school unlike the one I was forced to have. Eventhough I never wanted it.

He is taught numbers and decimals by a teacher that told me I can’t do math. though I’m the one who teaches my brother everyday He is taught that he is strong and powerful and he has been brought up to believe he is while I am consistently reminded that I am a fragile flower My brother was never taught this religion which I have been taught by my Islamiat teacher it’s called chauvinismIslam.

I was confused because my brother was confused. Except of course his confusion could be used as an excuse mine could only be used by the media to churn out another story for the sake of rating and views.


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