A Fictional Idea Of Revolution

You say you're a revolutionary

A rebel born, to obliterate a system rigged against you

But then, unlike revolutionaries & rebels, your mutiny needs documented validation

Stories you keep telling the world, screaming your rebellion into the void of social media, and onto the screens of people, who make up the very system you so badly want to obliterate

It's funny, isn't it; even your revolution against the system has any meaning only when that very system approves of it

Do you think that's how Renaissance really happened, or the French Revolution

You are no rebel; your idea of revolution is as deluded as a religious bigot's idea of secularism

You are as much as rebel as Jeffrey Dahmer was a social worker

It's funny how your ideas of revolution have convinced you that gender is the enemy

In a world of binaries, you are the white pitted against a world of black

You support the non-binaries not because you understand them, but because you need them, fellow comorades in your fancy revolution

In a world that's anything but black and white; shades of greys, tinges of brown, hints of blue, at best

Let's go down the memory lane for a minute, yeah

Let's scratch beneath the shallow surface of those convenient memories until it hurts

Wasn't it your very own gender that told you how to be your gender

Wasn't it your very own gender that told you to not visit temples and not enter the kitchen, those five days every month

Wasn't it your very own gender that shamed you into household chores

Wasn't it your very own gender that fucked your love in the name of friendship

And yet, somehow, you keep telling yourself, the other gender is the problem, the enemy

When in reality, the real enemy is the idea

The idea of your supposed identity

The idea of how a certain identity has to be to identify as such

And that idea, my love, wasn't born in a singular gender

For births need two genders, the blacks and the whites, to birth

You scream your struggles in the convenience of your privileges

While you exploit the very gender you claim to be an advocate of

You say cooking and cleaning aren't gender roles, and yet you still prefer a specific gender to cook you your meals and clean your house

You claim equal pay while you deprive your very own gender of a hike, because cooking and cleaning doesn't come with performance appraisals

It's funny isn't it, how the ones who need a revolution have no idea of such ideas

And the ones who do, keep exploiting them while crying victims to the very system that enables you live a glorious life of meticulous hypocrisy

You will say I'm gaslighting you, because gaslighting is the new mansplaining, and everything that doesn't align to your faith system is gaslighting

I could tell you, it's called having a different opinion, if you'd indulge

But then this is your monologue, and I am the enemy, and no matter what the logic or the rationale, it's a battle you've won even before you fought it

A battle you need, because what is revolution, if not a war, and what is a war, without an enemy

Not an idea, because ideas can't be fought, but a body of flesh, that you can pierce right through, as and when it suits your convenience

And yet, you are the victim

Pavlov's Dog

Imagine if you for once, said what you meant

Imagine how many times over and over again, your caustic flares would have engulfed the world you're so reluctantly a co-existence in

But then, actions have consequences, and consequences aren't about conveniences

So you wrap your morbidly obese ego in a flimsy foil of morality, and pat yourself on the back for being nice

You say you want justice

But what you really want is vengeance

Justice is a concept, vengeance is an actuality

And concepts can't satiate the filthy slime of hate creeping up your guts, in your intestines

You know whoever said "an eye for an eye makes the world blind" was a rather audacious motherfucker

Once you've lost an eye, you'd rather have the world blind than preach peace in pen and paper

You say you want equality, equity

But what you really want is the privilege, but not the accountability that comes alongside

Privilege without accountability is an airplane without the wings: it's so absurd it's borderline delusional

But then the line between being empowered and being gaslit into greatness is rather thin

As thin as that foil of morality you wrap around like a pointless endorsement of nicety 

Morality is a great excuse; the goddamn ace in the pack of cards up the sleeve of your shrewd self-esteem

Morality is the greatest of all conditioned reflexes the whole of humanity has ever known; the one where you are Pavlov and you are the dog