I tiptoed from childhood to adulthood,
no conscience of the velvets of maturity,
I thought the velvets were warm & slushy,
instead they tuck like needles in the cavity.
Was ever there the warmth, the softness
or just a dilemma pinning me ?
Floating from the time I played with
till the time I was toyed with,
ages never matter, five or fifteen.
Falling slightly like a feather on concrete,
I wondered of escaping,
or was the escape a dilemma holding me
I walked barefoot on the longest path of
where I saw other women in the middle,
past tattooed on their wrists and pain
shrieking from their eyes.
We were walking and walking.
They told acceptance was a necessity.
Or was acceptance a dilemma ,
tugging me, moving me?
Centuries and centuries have passed
cascading nothing but objectification.
Patriarchy couldn’t even answer,
they remain tongue-tied but
How long is the walk, still the question?
Ancestors lay awake in the grave
still to point fingers,
But darling, aren’t our necks already
surrounded by the albatross of their
The journey seems longer than it is,
we seem to be growing like pansies,
on their barren land of hearts,
melting our emotions, sliding them
between the cracks.
Do you think it will change?
Will we ever lay our souls bare
on the green grass without the
fear of being dried and burned?
Can we surpass their calamity of
Or is the calamity a dilemma,
birthed in me?
- Akanksha Kinwaar