Saturday, April 22, 2017

The Colour Of My Skin

The colour of my skin,
Didn’t matter to me,
‘Coz when I was born,
I was colour free! 

Then eventually,
The colour of my skin,
began to take shape
and come into being,

It crawled into,
the definition of my beauty,
Unwelcomed, unplanned,
It became part of my identity! 

There were some people,
Who liked and disliked me,
For the colour of my skin,
The 'inner me', failing to see!

They said, ‘coz I was dark,
I wasn’t pretty,
Little did they know,
I was way too witty...!

I continued to rise above,
The colour of my skin,
Not letting it bother,
The young woman within! 

Just when I thought,
I had conquered,
The colour of my skin,
Another place, I entered.

A nation, that thrived
On its diversity,
But undermined it too,
By tolerating perversity! 

I faced a new reality,
Now my race was linked
To the colour of my skin,
In a manner very distinct! 

The colour of my skin,
developed into a bigger affair,
Somehow, it represented my being,
In a manner not quite fair! 

People of the new place,
Were more discreet,
Without mentioning my colour,
They made it hard for me to compete. 

Recently, I was handcuffed,
By a white turned scarlet!

And every now and then,
I feel a subtle ‘something’
Hampers my advances, with which 
My capacity has to do nothing. 

I am often left confused,
Is it my colour or is it me?
If it's me, I will improve,
But my colour, will still be. 

There are days,
When I am weak,
I wish for another colour,
Or plan to leave.

But how can I give up,
We have to build on
the struggle of millions,
Who, despite all, marched on! 

Thanks to their fight,
There’s still hope,
Their pain gives me courage,
Their resilience inspires me to cope.

And how I can give up,
I know my seed will grow,
With the same colour of my skin,
For him, this wall I have to blow! 

Maybe one day,
The colours of our skin,
Will be just that,
And we will be appraised from within! 



Tuesday, April 18, 2017

I am Many Women

I am the little girl,
who was told,
She was silver,
and her brother was gold.

I am also the girl,
who let her silver
be carved and polished,
and look she too does shimmer!

I am the young woman,
who couldn't follow her heart,
because she was a woman
and wasn't as smart.

I am also her,
who didn't stop dreaming,
Created her own world,
and continued devising.

I am the woman,
who was exploited
by the one she loved
'coz she was taken for granted.

I am also the woman,
who fought a good fight,
to protect her dignity,
and made things right!

I am the assistant,
who was paid less with money,
but lots with complements,
Did her work get appreciation any?

I am also the assistant,
who left the job one day,
not because she gave up,
but 'coz she were to fly away!

I am the female worker,
whose capability was questioned
because she was a battered one,
Yes, her boss was cautioned!

I am also the same worker,
who proved herself every time,
became her own competition,
To her side converted the clime.

I am the wife,
who turned stale,
felt rejected,
was her honor so frail?

I am also the wife,
who decided she wasn't
a meal that becomes stale,
but a reality that is always current!

I am the mother,
who became a nuisance,
for a son who's becoming a man,
shaking her very existence.

I am also the mother,
who will teach him one lesson,
that he not only respects her
but each and every woman!

I am many women,
and I will always rise,
be victorious on this earth
and conquer the skies!
 
 

I am not OK

I am writing this on behalf of thousands of people, particularly the humanitarian workers around the world, who are not perfectly ok. Many o...