Her – Creative Writing : Poem
Written By: Darshika Saxena
I am a girl who is born in the generation
Where Durga, Kali and Saraswati’s hymns are sung in the nation.
But when the same ‘kali’ is born, she is abhorred for her colour and skin tone.
‘Saraswati’ isn’t allowed to go to the school,
Oh, because she is a woman, and women are better with kitchen tools.
Midnight is not the time for women to move out, either you take a man who can be your shroud.
Your short dress is an invitation for people to slut shame you and call you a slattern.
So wear your clothes right, a little loose not tight, you don’t flaunt your curves, keep yourself sacred for you would be a hub.
If someone touches your hand without your concern don’t shout be mum, you are a woman who is meant to be quiet, not express what you aspire to.
The red stain on your skirt would always be mocked
Your chums are something you are supposed to be ashamed of.
It doesn’t complete you as a woman but makes you impure, untouchable and gross.
Oh, I forgot to mention it’s the same blood of which your body is made up off.
So, Agni has married a year ago,
Her husband died of a catastrophe.
And of course, it was all her fault
She was called a bitch, a witch and a rogue.
Polygamy is okay for men, it’s their religious right,
But If a widow marries again, it’s against society’s pride.
She is questioned and her dignity is put at stake,
‘Oh, what a whore she is? How can she start life again?’
We teach our girls to beware, why not make our boys aware,
That colour doesn’t define flair, clothes don’t display character traits, and every woman out there wishes to celebrate her liberty from which she has abstained.
I don’t hate men, I believe not all men are the same,
But there are very few who are reasonably sane, so at last
I wish you all stand with me, to bring the change we dream
A nation filled with nirbhaya’s laughter, not her scream,
A nation witnessing asifa’s mischief, not her funeral scene.
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