Then And There, I Have Thoughts

Why would I give birth to her to turn her into my own pitiful image?

‘No, I never want a daughter’

‘Oh are you one of those sexist type?’

‘Me? No! I am one of those feminist type.

Why give birth to a child if it’s to make her believe that she is

Just a puppet that should dance to your patriarchal musings?

To get her raped?

To silence he cries  and make her deaf and dumb?

Like you made me blind?

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I was born with dreams that could fly high

And happiness that filled my heart

I was born with a voice that was as loud as thunders

And smile like those lightnings

I was born invincible

Yet I became invisible

Like the wind that might caress her tired face;

On a day her boss yelled at her. Why you ask? Because

she is “just” a girl

Or on the day  her father tells her to stay quiet and be a girl

Or the day she might be touched for the mere pleasure of that

middle aged man in the bus

Or the day she would know that she is “just a girl”

And she is made to “behave” like one.

What would I tell her when she storms into my room and

ask me, ” Why did you give birth to a cursed soul?”

She would brood over her unattainable freedom

And fall into the pit of melancholy

Why would I give birth to her to turn her into my own pitiful image?

Image via Unsplash


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