While It Rains

Fair Play (2023) reads like a quiet manifesto—a rulebook written between the lines—for the women who dare to build both a home and a name. In the climax, chaos erupts. His voice rises in rage, hers follows not in fear, but as fire. What begins as noise becomes clarity. The argument doesn't break her—it bares her. Amidst the wreckage of expectations, she speaks. Not softly. Not to soothe. But to be heard. You hold on to relationships until they stop holding you. And when they don't work anymore, you don’t drag the wreckage around. You drop the emotional baggage right there, on the floor where you take your stand. You end it right . You speak—loudly and clearly—about the rights you were denied, the duties you fulfilled, the hurt you absorbed. You demand apologies. You call out the harm. You don’t let them walk away without accountability. Not because their remorse means everything, but because your dignity does. You don’t carry the guilt that isn’t yours to bear. What’s past ...

Her love, I cannot deny, Her irrationality, I cannot withstand. He, an ungrateful master to her. She, an unequal half to him. Love went unquestioned in their bond, a bond I was born from. My source, I both loathe and fear— Will it one day become my end? Has my quest for reason killed my will to honour what society deems sacred? To you, I may seem defiant, but perhaps I defend my defiance with reason. And I must remember: The rationale is not in retreat— But in becoming.