By Anjana Kumari
Mother...
I feel defeated in this world
By how they treat me for being her
Nothing like you told—
All about the fake smile one must hold
Shirt and skirt without any fold
"Same are we all in skin," you told
Then why do they stare as if mine is gold?
Pride does not belong to me—
It's a masculine thing to be
The whole world for him to be “He”
I can't even roam free
Since they say my brain is in my knee
Unspoken questions sting my soul like a bee
Why am I afraid of the one
Who is born through someone like me?
Am I also going to nurture someone
Inside me—who would make my kind
Feel like she is not free
To spread her wings and fly across those trees?
Yet motherly, I have to be.
Mother...
I feel defeated within me—
What would this world do to her
If I set her free?