A Common Story…

I was brought to this world just like everyone else.

Nourished and Nurtured the same way.

But as I entered the Light of the world,

Rules and regulations for me swayed.

I was asked to behave,

Be on time and be Kind.

It’s good to be kind, but my ‘Male counterpart’ was being left behind.

I was puzzled.

“What is they do not grow decent and loving ?”

“It doesn’t matter” – everyone replied.

Growing all through these years with a hint of fear and responsibilities.

Asked to have maturity beyond my Age and I grew so many Fragilities.

My clothes, my statements and my Thoughts were controlled.

Hardly I knew, being a Girl, for what I’ve enrolled.

As I hit puberty everyone around me got scared.

I was beautiful, but no one spared.

I was presented with a list of Do’s and Don’ts.

Thousands of promises I made that I won’t,

Break to cause dishonor to my Family.

My outings were limited, friends checked.

Male friends double checked.

While my ‘Male counterpart’ loitered freely,

Doing what his heart asked him to to.

I grew up and fought a mini battle to study further.

Higher studies are considered another Hurdle,

To get an ideal groom for your ultimate destiny-Marriage.

Time came for the blissful nuptial night.

It was a wonderful sight,

For I thought it’s union of two Souls in love.,

A bond of friendship, care and trust.

I was priced an tagged,

Weighed and my vitals statistics measured.

Got commented for being too lean,

Was mocked for not being fair enough.

“You don’t have long hair” -said one.

Aghast and stunned I sat with all the training of being good in vain.

The enormous price was paid for another ‘Male counterpart’ to take care of me for the rest of the life.

Forgetting the blasphemy I started my life afresh,

Little I knew what’s coming up next !

“Dress up like a Woman, you’re married now”- said my ‘Male counterpart’.

“But you’re dressed up the same way you go to work”.

“So, I’m a man ! I don’t need to”.

“But that’s how I go to work”.

SILENCE…..

That awkward silence taught me to add a mark of red on my head and don myself with multiple ornaments.

That’s a tag- TAKEN !

But somewhere deep inside I carried a tag- BROKEN.

Today I sit back holding my 7 hour old son in my arms.

Perplexed.

I have little idea what should I teach him.

What should I say to him ?

Should I tell him go live your life the way you want ?

or should I ask him to be empathetic ?

My thoughts are tangled

and my fingers mingled

with his.

I will definitely raise him right. But how ?

He must know what’s wrong is wrong !

He will learn that nothing happens as per your own plan.

and not all arguments are justified with the statement- “I’m a Man” !!

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