Liminal

Ananya Gupta

Kicking the threshold of adolescence, this place feels incongruous
Watching my sister grow, my incessant fascination for her belongings screamed,
Screamed for an identity, lost in this alien body
I feel trapped inside this cage like a sparrow fluttering for freedom
My soul yearns to tear apart through this skin hued wrapping labeled with norms to abide by and inflate my bosoms with air of individuality.
These shoes gulp my feet only to be healed by the soft embrace of her bellies;
this tie clutches my throat suffocating me to death.
I do not approve of this attire or my deflated chest,
My masculinity is conflicted by my feminine desires.
The woman inside screams to be heard and accepted
By this cruel society guarded by myths and taboos, walled by majoritarian rules.

The woman’s lipstick cling to her chapped lips like a bunch of iron filings to a bar magnet,
She places a red circular dot between her dark black brows where her soul rests,
The mirror embraces her beauty.
Alas! The darkness engulfs my existence and scrapes my identity with its sharp canines.
Pedagogical dogmas compel my feminine self to mould itself into a firm man ready to serve this patriarchy.
I wish to fill this liminal space,
The space between my internal realization and external acceptance.
This wrapping makes me claustrophobic.
I long to leave this shield and let my soul wander,
Wander to unraveled places, undiscovered blocks of earth.

I dodge between baskets of external expectations and personal choices like a round air- pumped ball, unaware which basket to hit.
I am confronted with my realities each passing day, approaching phase of transition with the limit tending to zero!
I am transitioning. I am liminal.

This work has been published in Beetle Magazine's July 2020 Issue

Illustration by Dhanashree Pimputkar