Oh darling! What did they tell you
that your eyes, so beautiful are
as if touching the hem
of your floor length gown?
That your legs are always crossed and
you are sitting prim as a rose
looking so like a blooming lily
unless one looks deep into your soul
where tears brim like an ocean
and rage is tumbling around
your spirit that they caged along
with the hole that everyone seems
to make such a hell of a fuss!

Oh darling! what did they tell you
to make you put up your odhna
every time your in-laws come over
you put up a show
to prove that “you” have paid
good price
for what they bought?
and you cook and cook
to find a way to your man’s
only to have him force you over and over
again in the dead of the dark?

Oh darling! What did they tell you
to make you quietly listen when
your children start to talk back to you
and echo their ancestors
caring nothing for your career
and demand that you be at home
every time they are back,
in the guise of motherly love??


Oh darling! What did they tell you
to make you count to ten
and rein in your temper
and not disrespect your elders
when they are the very ones leading you
to your living grave
(with bells and a veil
and a glittery bridegroom
who is probably not gold)
holding your hand and
blackening your face
and crying as if it’s the work of someone else!

Oh darling! Why oh! why do you
act so helpless
when you can bear the pain
that can push out a thousand babies
from between your thighs
from a one inch hole?
When the epics were made
due to the designs of woman,
and you are the culprit
they say who brought
down the world,
why don’t you finally do
what you were blamed for?