My Women

One day, she was born That's when I realized how the male chauvinists mourn. To me, she is the symbol of peace, tranquility and love, and, sometimes....she reminds me of the peaceful dove. Well, she is sixty-nine now. And, only she knows what its like to look at her wrinkled face everyday, realising the fact that that face too.... once resembled the moon. She was forty-eight once..... And, only she knows what its like to live for her children, without expecting anything in return, because, she believes that her children will live a life she couldn't. She was younger, when she became a teacher. And, only she knows what it feels like to see her students happy, when they tell her, you helped us improve. She was seventeen-eighteen once...... She knows the tears behind body-shaming and cat-calling. She knows the struggle that goes into proving her identity and showing her power... she knows that she is not alone and, she will get there...... one day..... I thank her for all she's done for me. I thank her for being herself. I get inspired by her in all her roles. For, she tells me the wonder of living for others. She tells me that no matter how hard it gets, you must be humane, you must be kind, and darling, that's your superpower! But, you know what... She forgets that she too is a human Maybe that's why they say..... sacrifice is the name of woman...."