'Hum lavo se kahe na paaye unse haal ye dil kabhi Aur woh samjhe nahin yeh khamoshi kya cheese hai' (I couldn't tell her what my heart echoed and she never understood the language of my silence.)

Silence is golden, they say. So,

Is the silence of a mother who has lost her young son in a road fight, golden?

Is the silence of a girl child who is being repeatedly molested by her neighbor, golden?

Is the silence of a widow who has lost her husband, an innocent victim of communal riots, golden?

Is the silence of an officer who is a witness to corruption in his organization, golden?

How long do we live in these myths in order to avoid looking at the harsh realities?

How long do we act 'brave and smart' and tell others "what has to happen, happens."?

How long do we stretch our lips till our muscles pain, when the world inside us is crashing down?

If silence is golden, then what is the price that we pay for it?

The pain, the suffering, the agony that becomes a part of our life?

The death of dreams, where hopes are just an illusion?

The trauma of a forcefully forgotten childhood?

The conflict of inner and outer voices?

Its time we stood up for our rights. Its time we said, "all is not okay and I have the right to crib." Its time that we realize that our vulnerability is not our weakness, its our strength. Its time we appreciate that its okay to reach out and ask for help, its okay to mess up, its okay to feel like a crap and its okay to complain and cry and fight and....

Its okay to express.

It's time we accept that we are human.