Not Durga, Not Lakshmi

While walking through rural Haryana, I was deeply struck by the names given to young girls: names like Antima, Kaafi, Maafi, Batheri, and Kshama. The irony of these names—synonyms for apology and regret—contrasted sharply with the lofty rhetoric of empowerment. This poem emerges from that memory, a stark reflection on the hollow celebrations of Women’s Day and the harsh reality many women endure.

And while we sit

in our plush cabins,

dressed in the choicest garms,

talking about empowerment, 

inspiration and elevation 

of "we, the women", 

a girl is born

in the rural remotes,

and for the rest of her life, 

she will be called, 

no,

not by the names of Durga or Lakshmi, 

but by the synonyms

of apology and regret.

Happy women's day.

Sounds so hollow...right???

Welfare unto all 

Rab rakha 

She is.

She is.
And her being is sufficient.
Complete.
Adequate.
Rather abundant,
plentiful in all respects.
She is..
The horde of possibilities
that this sentence offers,
all the adjectives that you can think of.
Yes! She is each one of them.
Ace. Adept. Accomplished.
So, she is.
And it is because she is
that we are.
Period.

The lament of a sister

We'll get you a brother,
They promised;
Running errands
Outside our nest,
Pushing my wedding-cart,
Running our family-name,
Sustaining their withering souls;
Never lamenting
The sisters I could have had,
Not even once.
Its okay, I offered.
Its fun catching fireflies alone.