Freedom To Be
Akshita is a nineteen year old overachiever and perfectionist with big dreams, trying to wade through her entangled teenage years. An extrovert, dog lover and travel enthusiast who finds her ultimate home in the poems she can create at any given time of the day.
When you sliced my mother’s stomach open,
picked me out
and cut the umbilical cord
holding me back,
you called it –
F R E E D O M,
mistook my constant wails for excitement,
and wrapped me in an unloving, coarse cloth;
my mother’s womb was softer.
I did not like it;
the entire process of being born
into this world,
at the cost of my mother
hurting and risking;
the same mother
who caressed me
a hundred and fifty times a day,
sang me to sleep
in between her sniffles
and prayed for my peace.
For, she knew
I was going to be a girl
and that my father would scorn,
refuse to hold me in his arms,
lower his eyes
while revealing my sex
to the family,
as if my sex
was a misfortune,
as if my sex
was responsible for all the hardships
in his life,
as if his own sins
didn’t count.
So, why didn’t you
seek my consent
before introducing me
into a world
where you knew
I would have to fight;
fight for keeping my identify alive,
where I would have to
rely on the mercy
of my father’s anger
for not getting thrashed
while humming a song,
or for skipping
two particles of dust
while mopping the floor.
When you called my birth-
F R E E D O M,
did you allow
the patriarchy to rule over my body?
did you allow the patriarchy to control
my letteredness,
my physical and mental health,
the age I get married at,
the children I give birth to
and the number of bruises
I bear on my body?
So, how can YOU claim
to understand the notions
of MY freedom,
when you can’t even
spell it properly?
I wish you’d asked me,
if I ever wanted to be,
if I ever was ready for the injustices
you were going to throw at me,
if I had the strength
to keep myself from being eaten alive.
I wish, you’d given me
the F R E E D O M
to just, be.