Featuring Sarbajit Chowdhury || The Gender Jail || SIV Writers

Scribbling Inner Voice (SIV)

More about Sarbajit : Sarbajit Chowdhury is an alumnus of St. Xavier’s School and college Burdwan. Currently he has completed his post-graduation from university of Burdwan. He did his debut with the book SPEAKING FROM THE AUTUMN OF MY LIFE. He has been waiting since three years to launch his next. He has been awarded eight awards for his DEBUT BOOK:-

1. INDIAN LITERARY AWARD 2020- BEST POETRY BOOK 2020

2. SAHITYA KOSH SAMMAN AWARD 2021

3. INDIAN PRIME AUTHOR AWARD 2021

4. TOP 100 RESEARCHER AWARD 2021

5. BHARTIYA YOUTH FACE 2021.

6. ELITE BOOK AWARDS- BEST AUTHOR POETRY 2021

7. INDIAN PRIDE AWARDS 2021

8. INDIA YOUTHESTA AWARD FOR BEST BUDDING WRITER 2021.

He has also been featured by Times of India, Hindustan Times, Maxtern Media, Foxstory India, The News Now and several other magazines and newspapers.

He is a big foodie and a music lover. He munches on the Aparna Sen and Rituporno Ghosh films. He loves to watch goof films and is a vociferous reader. He is also pursuing his academics besides being a writer and also aims at becoming a professor someday. In his free time he loves to learn Kathak and is taking training in it.

Gender Jail :

I was born in a room with bars,

Dank walls and a window high on it.

I had my parents to love,

To teach me what's right and wrong?.

I imagine they were happy to have me,

And would stuff me with all they havehad.

Time goes by with each passing day,

Now I have a separate hay to lay.

My baba, brought me a blue shirt,

I said ""I like not this dirty Colour,"",

""I want some pink, my favourite colour."",

His hand landed on my face,

And my eyes welled up.

When I washed the dishes to help maa,

The aunty said, this is the work of girls,

When my house help was carrying a baby in her womb,

I wanted to help her cook, ;

The uncle said, this is not what a man does!

My dad showed shot out red eyes,

And I refrained from doing all this.

As I loved to sit and chat, not play,

My friends said asked, are you a boy or gay?

Oh! Poor boy you are!

My teachers said asked, why are you like girls?

Go run like boys in the ground,.

When I felt embarrassed and cried,

They all said he is a problematic child.

When, life became too heavy,

I decided to slit my wrist open,

And the head said, ""wantWant to die like a girl?""

I felt like what the heck?

Boys have a different way?

I felt I am wrong, may be the most wrong.

As I grew, I realized we are born in jails, ;

May be the boys are born in a blue jail,

And Girls girls in a flowery pink jail.

And like me, whoever wants to break free,

Was always questioned and re-questioned.

I made a pledge: our child will not be born in jail,

He It will choose colour, and paint his its life,

Like a free spirit, like a happy human.