Metamorphosis

[writpoeling94]

Hi Maa, Hi Papa,

I know you are hurting, I know you are disappointed in me and I know that you feel cheated out of getting your turn at seeing your daughter married.

I love you both, I will face and do anything that will keep you safe, that will keep you healthy, and that will comfort you. 

But this, this don't ask me for this. I tried, I tried for 7 years, I talked to boys, I talked to men, stroked their ego, shrunk myself and listened to patriarchy disguised as traditions. Listened to how the other gender had it so much worse. Listened to how I should demand less because my beauty wasn't in their spectrum. 

I bared myself, heard about their difficulties, heard about their dreams - their dream wife and their 3BHK metro city dream, heard about equality but with compromise. Heard about equal respect but how their mother was superwoman who did everything. And nobody would come close to her. 

I listened, I listened and listened.

But no one wanted to know about what makes me tick, what makes me think, what makes me happy.

I can't put myself in the box they ask me to. I am too fat for it, too dusky for it, too modern for it. Too feminist for it. Too mentally unstable for it

Too much, yet not enough.

[writpoeling94]

An expired scratch card

Once I discovered reading, I was unstoppable.

In awe of entire worlds that engulfed me, making this world bearable.

I used to collect old books, with writings in margin, some notes, some poems.

The thoughts of people, whose fingers turned the pages, whose read rested on the covers, some vestiges of their realms.

It was in those books, tucked between the pages, I found a scratch card.

With torn corners, some blurry lines but the scratch panel well intact.

I wondered why no one scratched it?

My mind laughed at my fortune, who knew what I would win!

While my heart warred with me, telling me maybe someone lost it, and while I hoarded it, maybe someone was looking for it?

When I finally gave in, and scratched it, my joy was short lived.

For it indeed was a fortune, but with an expired date, blurred enough to not be exact but enough to know the treasure isn't mine.

I still have the scratch card.

But it is time to let you go.

For your heart is just out of my grasp and my love is all but scratched out.

For it wasn't mine to keep.

I should have left it alone.

Some treasures aren't meant to be.

[writpoeling94]

What are big boobs?

Overabundance of natural resources.