A question bug’s me every day,
One who’s answer is only known by me,
An answer which I daresay,
However much it sets me free;
Who am I?
They say your identity is your name,
But to be honest,
God’s gift seems too high a claim;
So, the question still gathers rust.
Who am I?
Then it strikes me, I’m many in one;
I’m my father’s daughter,
The one who taught me to find a place in the sun,
In my life he is the spur.
I am my mother’s second child,
The one who taught me to break the glass ceiling,
Whenever in need her number was dialled;
She told me to achieve everything before wearing the ring.
I am my sister’s shadow,
The one who bravely fought and won her wars,
She is the one who always helped me grow;
She is a lioness who always roars.
I am the reliable friend,
The one who helps and listens;
I always have advice to lend,
And hope to be the one who never fails to stun.
I am the girl who believes,
In a better world, a better future;
The one who hopes happiness is what she achieves,
And to never show a white feather.
I am an Indian;
One who won’t go to foreign shores and leave her country,
And doesn’t blindly defend her actions,
I just hope to one day shake the system’s tree.
I am a Hindu.
One who checks her privilege,
I hope to stop others from getting slew,
And wish to someday build a bridge.
I am the writer,
The one who speaks her truth;
With my dreams growing bigger,
I hope to inspire the youth.
I am strong, resilient and unstoppable;
I am respectful, sensitive and kind;
I am the girl who is smart, witty and sensible;
I am many in one combined.
However, I am fearful,
Of failure and disappointment,
Sometimes life does seem dull,
And I am rarely standing in the front.
I am an introvert,
And talking aloud is not in my comfort zone;
My eyes are easily hurt,
And I despise when things are out of my known.
Lastly, I am a girl,
In a country where majority are men,
And a short skirt makes them clutch their pearls;
Sometimes even common resources are left to be yen.