Walking down the forest one day
I come across a young man trembling in pain
His unnerving screams being hushed
by the night rain
I rush to him while stones make way through my skin
But save a few scratches he seems just fine
What’s the matter I ask, running out of breath
Nothing he whimpers, just waiting for death
But, you’re just a boy I cry
Nearing your prime, destined to fly
A boy born in this society he replies
Every prick I feel I’m supposed to hide
No more than a warrior protecting his lady’s pride
I am the muscle they say, and I play the part
Carrying heavy loads deep in my heart
A woman can yell at me all she likes
But if I raise my voice I’m ostracised
And all this I should bear with a smile
Because that’s what a gentleman is like
You have no idea through what all I’ve gone
Been called pansy for every shred of emotion that I’ve shown
And if I didn’t then I’m cold and brute, no heart just stone
Wait,
You’re tired of labels, asked I?
I’m a slut if I wear revealing clothes, a whore if I talk to ‘too many’ guys
An attention seeker if I wear makeup
But if I don’t rip my body hair out, I’m not feminine enough
Wherever I go whatever I do, every step of the way I have to prove myself,
Just so they can see
That I’m so much more than a child-bearing factory
Whenever I hear that a sister of mine has been catcalled or wrongly touched,
my blood boils
But then, a shiver runs down my spine
Cause who knows, I may be next in line
When I take a stand I’m fake and complacent if I don’t
Living in a world where being a feminist is a crime
Because who speaks up against the atrocities you’ve endured all your life?
He asks,
So according to you the whole gender is at fault then? (Now I can’t stress this
enough but)
FEMINISM IS NOT ABOUT HATING MEN
Neither is it about establishing supremacy
It is about having a voice
One that is your birthright
One for which I daily have to fight
What we don’t understand is that this society, it attacks us all
It’s not you against me, it’s us against a system that needs to fall
‘Cause when I look at the ground,
I can’t tell his red from mine
And as I look closer, I see
Not a he or she
It’s humanity that bleeds
-Mannat Arora, 17