Like a tiny doll,
when I am born,
pampered and spoilt,
by father, mother, and brother alike.
From tales of princesses, and
the prince charming,
I am given barbies, and
kitchen sets to grow up with.
I am educated,
in the best of schools,
and there it is when I learn,
that a girl is more than,
the princess, and the vanity case,
given as gifts.
I learn about the gutsy women,
who dared to dream,
of women who fought battles,
and touched the skies in their airplanes,
about a queen, who still rules,
and about a female PM,
who ran the largest democracy.
I learn to dream, and
I learn, about that little part,
in my heart, that wants to dare,
to break the shackles and stereotypes,
to love blue and not the pinks,
and to go out in the world,
to make a difference.
But when I do step out,
there is resistence, from the same,
father, mother, and brother,
who pampered me with all the love.
Then I learn to fight,
the shackles which come with,
the sheltered life.
In the next step, there are the others,
men who leer and lech,
men whose egos fragile as glass, and
women who feel that they deserve more,
and a world which is same no more.
But, I fight.
At each step,
to carve an identity,
to feel the breeze, even if,
it is ridden with salt, it is my own.
I fight, against the
prejudices and judgments against,
my choice of men,
my choice of having sex,
my choice of marraige and babies,
me being strong, but not stubborn.
me being me, and not the other!
I look at myself,
each day in the mirror,
take a deep breath and vow,
to hold my head high, to walk,
in my heels,
to wear that red lipstic, if I please,
to ace that meeting,
to party without a care,
to argue on a point to make a point,
to hold myself high,
in my own eyes.
Because I am a woman,
I fight to survive,
to take each breath,
to choose battles, to win a war,
and to live each moment,
with feirce determination and a tender glow!