By Shruti Chandra
She bled for the first time when she was ten;
That day she knew the bitter truth:
She had lost control over her body and her destiny, too.
Day after day, month after month she would now bleed
Alone in her pain shunned from the rest
Into a hut she lay writhing in pain,
When she needed comfort of her bed.
She stained her dress as she bled;
People said this pain was a blessing from Him –
For now she could give birth to a life.
But she was also made aware
Of how different and weak she was.
From a little girl she had become a commodity
Who must now be protected from the gaze of this world,
Who must now leave the company of playmates,
Prepare herself for wifely duties and motherhood.
Shruti Chandra is a PhD scholar at JNU. Her research interest lies in Gender and Politics. She is deeply passionate about poetry and likes to be addressed as Ms Dehlavi, after the city of Khusrao and Ghalib.
Cafe Dissensus Everyday is the blog of Cafe Dissensus magazine, based in New York City, USA. All materials on the site are protected under Creative Commons License.
Read the latest issue of Cafe Dissensus Magazine on ‘Women’s Writing from North East India’, edited by Dr. Namrata Pathak, NEHU, Shillong, India.