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A poem about a woman born in grim realities of patriarchy, but finally finds enough strength to rise from her own ashes.
Enchanted by the sky tonight
In my bed I held him tight
I held him like an hourglass
The more I clinch, the more I lost
The way he looked into my eyes
I didn’t feel like a gift, but prize
I told myself he was the one
Ardor at heart had just begun
I dressed in red, a glittering sight
A papermatche, empty inside
Through eyes I flirt
My smile would hurt
My soul would shrink inside
A hollow bride
The day was cursed
As mother nursed
The rest would grieve and mourn
Wish they had known
I could be more
Than a burden and décor
Grew up in shadows, born to strife
Why should I lose? Why should I hide?
My heart ripped and voice crushed
The blood mistaken for blush
My fate was sealed
My dreams were peeled
Cadaver with a purl
An empty girl
Never born, never knew why
I heard a scream, a squeal and a sigh
It was a happy end for some
I saw my cradle frail and numb
She wept, she moaned, she shivered in pain
Like a casket she would remain
“Why didn’t you use the lion and sword?
Like your picture on the wall?”
That isn’t me she exclaimed
My pride is dead, my courage slain
“Oh mother what I see in you
A millions stars and a million new”
No my child that is not true
Even if I could I wouldn’t undo
To save your life from vicious fumes
(I chose to be) – A wounded womb
She didn’t believe what she was told
She was the clay they could not mould
To every rule she had a why
As the world would vilify
She read the tales of a braver lass
‘Who knew her cage was made of glass
For glass to melt she would need the sun
As she grew, so did the passion
From the stars she borrowed light
Until one day, it grew so bright
The night had turned into day
It was then the earth flourished they say’
The fable stirred her anxious mind
She gathered all that she could find
She made herself a pair of wings
Then touched the sky and rode the winds
She rose from fire, like a beacon
A fearless woman!
First published here
Cover image via Shutterstock
Writer, marketer, foodie, traveler and amateur photographer, Indrakshi is always on a lookout for new opportunities and adventures in life. Currently living away from her motherland, she carries India in her heart wherever she is. read more...
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Neena was the sole caregiver of Amma and though one would think that Amma was dependent on her, Neena felt otherwise.
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“I usually write during night”, says author Nivedita Louis during our conversation. Chuckling she continues,” It’s easier then to focus solely on writing. Nivedita Louis is a writer, with varied interests and one of the founders of Her Stories, a feminist publishing house, based in Chennai.
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Nivedita was born and raised in a small town in Tamil Nadu. It was for schooling that she first arrived in Chennai. Then known as Madras, she recalls being awed by the city. Her love-story with the city, its people and thus began which continues till date. She credits her perseverance and passion to make a difference to her days as a vocational student among the elite sections of Madras.
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