In a country where naked fakirs have turned rare But the thinking of those days have not Where periods are still not normalized Short, dark, and fat are not adjectives but insults Where millions are not even considered humans And are called Dalits with ease Where sexual harassment is met with doubts and enrages none But a girl's short dress does Where girls don't write enough And women achievements are forgotten in a moment Where cuckoos sing only to attract hunters And thus evolve to be dumb Where friendships are just a conversation away Sporting zero tolerance.
So how do I live?
By seeing the kiss Between a pen and paper In the hands of little girls Leading to immortal offsprings draped in stories of heroines who revolted some silently, some roaring.
In a country of deafening speeches of hate and discrimination. Let's start listening. Pass the mic to dalit men and women. To queer mates. To sexually abused men and women. To people with mental health issues, to those with physical disabilities. To those who have been displaced and oppressed for centuries. Let's celebrate women idols too.