My Pace, My Space

By Debolina Bal

You say, I am a key
You plugged in
At the tender age of eleven
Or, maybe,

A key
Called Woman,
Jammed into a keyhole
That’s not known.

You turn the key,
And I perform
Antics of a jester,
To eyes on display.

“The key,
Oh, the key,
Is the beginning of your Life,
A potion brewed with magic
And wisps of wistfulness.”

I cannot be the key.
I am yet,
To know the grooves
Inside me.

The grooves that are me,
Those that are human-
That which I am
And not your forged key.

I tell You,
I am only woman,
When the human
In me, is alive.

I am only woman,
When I want to be
And not
when you say I am-
For I am a woman of choice.

Of choices-
To be and not to be,
Of choices-
To feel and grow,
At my pace and space.


  • Beautifully explained “Women” God bless..

  • Your lines speak truth and nothing else .. so beautifully written .. God bless !!

    Arup Kumar Chatterjee

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