To men

I love Hindustan (India). I love the land, its sages, scents, sounds, and their unexpected chaotic beauty in every little nook and corner. My eyes, heart, and soul have been hallowed by this land’s bounty. But by you men of Bharat my body has been assaulted, abused, raped, slapped, pushed, groped, and grabbed way too many times. My body became a safety hazard for me on my own Janam bhumi (birthland). A liability to my sovereignty. My joy violated into silence, again and again, made me abandon my heartland just to be safe in my own skin.

Dear men of Bharat, your wounded lust has broken my body. My body cannot help but mistrust you. It fears your lust. It doubts your intentions, your words. It wants to stay far away from anything that remotely smells like you. Your beautiful brown is sadly, revolting to it.

But you see your wounded lust could never hurt my truth. I am Shakti (Primordial Life Energy). Dear men of Bharat when you penetrated the body of a goddess without consent, she penetrated into your heart without your consent. When my genitals bled from your violation, I felt your spiritual hemorrhage. The pain that you are blind to that drives your violence. The powerlessness that makes you usurp mine by pinning my holy body down. But my power is untouchable by you, your pain and powerlessness.

Are you not tired of the void inside you that violates me, you, and our union? And with each transgression that void deepens more, widening the distance between my body and yours. My heart and yours. Between love and desire. Trust and pleasure.

The ironic secret is - It is Shakti’s essence to naturally desire a celebration of your lust and watch it untame in a container of trust. Can you be brave enough to earn my trust? Are you willing to realize that when made safe by your truth, I lust your lust more than you lust my body? Instead of pinning me down, if you celebrate my sovereignty I will ride your linga (penis) raw in ecstasy. Isn’t that what you want anyway?

My body wants to love you and your beauty as an embodiment of Shiva (Consciousness). See your own pain/fear and weep like a warrior-god and claim your power, oh slumbering Shiva. Stand your heart up before your linga. Shakti did not wait for her Shiva in penance, she waited for his healing and her own. She waited, holding his beauty in her eyes, while cleaning her wounds inflicted by his amnesia.

Heal my god, heal. You already have my love. For Shiva-Shakti are meant to copulate in love, both in the embrace of power, truth, and trust. In consented union, they both dance, their pleasure consecrated for inherent in it is the start of all fucking creation.

Heal your heart, my Shiva. Let’s both forget, nay FREE ourselves from the stale moves of predator and prey passed down from generation to generation. Let’s make wild sacred love remembering the gods and goddesses we are.

Shakti is teaching her yoni (vagina) to trust you slowly, but surely. Heal, my Shiva. Heal. I yearn for our divine union. I know you yearn for it too. May we come together in love, truth, power, freedom, and trust. And may it be so. May it be so!