Me –I am a collection of old tales,

        stained by the monochrome

        of the past.

Let me take you through

all the pages

Of those tales.

In the summer of 13

I entered in my

early teens.

With blood dripping down

my legs,

they tagged me as

ladylike and straight.

A disease of society,

constructive sexuality – if I had known.

Head corseted with

braids

high ended uniform that covered

my legs.

Skin show – it’s unlikely!!

Said those who made fun of

my breasts.

Girl those  small

lumps

aren’t going to attract

anyone.

But thank God for those

thick, curly strands.

Feminism – an ideology,

corrupted in practice – if I had known.

Oh! those years of fairy tales.

When  hormones kicked in

I fell in love.

But love embarrassed me.

Pointing and laughing

they strangled

my soul,

love is science – if only I had known.

Mirrors were covered

in melancholy,

as I stuffed my face with

pills and anxiety.

Prescriptions piled up on

the desk

as the monster hollowed

my chest.

Depression? Stop making things up.

In the department

South and Southeast Asia

the tedium was broken.

Shackles became loose.

From spices of India

to the colours of Srilanka.

Egg coffee of Vietnam

to the diversity of Indonesia.

In this world , my world

Gender – not norm

Sex – anatomy

Beauty – not absolute

Colour – not identity

Caste – doesn’t exist.

Me – I am a collection of tales

of discoveries, valour

and courage.

Growth is constant – if only I had known.

                                                                                                                                   ~ Divyangana Bhadra

                                                          Kolkata, India