This one is long almost 595 words but this one is my favourite.
•-------------------------------------------•
I was made a woman
Or rather say a slut
Often labelled as a whore
Or maybe just an object that men adore
It's immoral for me raise my voice
It's a sin for me to have my own opinion
They say
That I welcome a man if my clothes run short
They say
That my consent is well defined just with the way I dress
They say
That I'm a bitch if my lips look dark and red
Oh! Such a wise society with all the rules finely laid
For the one who bleeds
You cut off my wings and try to pull me down
But no I don't blame you
For caging this bird is just your culture but screwed
No I don't blame you
For fucking me
Without my consent when I am married to you
And still not being sewed for marital rape
After all you've been given the licence on name of marriage
That I'm no more than a vagina with a full time approval
No I don't blame you
For eve teasing me on the busy streets
For I was taught to ignore and shut
Just like all the men do
While you sexually assault me when on the streets I silently move
No I don't blame you
For washing down and forgetting
Nirbhaya, Mariam and all such souls after some time
After all neither our laws took it seriously
If the case shamefully continued for years
Maybe it was okay of you
To raise your hands fearlessly and cause pain and swollen eyes
To the one whose belly aches and legs tremble
Five days a month
After all according to you that is so less
Of all the pain she deserves and already endures
By being a woman
After all she for you, stays nothing
More than a mere toy that completes your physical needs
Maybe it was okay of you
To kick out the same woman when old
Whose wombs were the home to you unconditionally for nine fucking months
And whose hands blessed and grew you throughout your life
Maybe it was okay for you to have faith
And worship the holy Durga
But still raise a finger and do wrong
To the incarnations of her
Maybe these things are just the debt I pay
For being given the privileg to carry a life inside me
I wish the society could understand
That everytime I spread my body parts
Is not an invitation to get piped down by a man
But it can also be my arms that I spread
To share the tender love and sanctity
That I inherited by being a woman.
I was made a woman
But born in a man dominated society
I was born a soldier that bleeds
Maybe not for a war of peace but a war with the society
Which often makes me question
If is it such a disgraceful sin!?
That I was made a woman
It's quite vile of me that even after writing so long
I still have so much to pen down
For the unwanted gifts of society to a woman
Are unfortunately endless in numbers
After all I was made a woman;
-Shay
7/3/19
02:52 a.m.
YOU ARE READING
ANECDOTE • #Wattys2019
PoetryThe soul danced and rejoiced on the melancholic music of its failure all alone in its jungle city and cried over the moon. It counted the stars, hoping someday all of it would be alright but then all the hopes were shattered as the nostalgic feeling...
