REBEL

The darkness has loomed large,
From the cradle to the grave,
In every sphere of my being,
In my controlled laugh,
And in my hidden tears,
The food that was put in front,
And the veil that always tried to cover.
Every gesture, every finger,
Be it inside or the outer world,
Never failed to remind that
I am nothing, just a lower being.
For centuries,
When citizens were defined,
I was deliberately kept out,
For ages,
When religions were prescribed,
I was conveniently ignored.
The beam of knowledge,
Found it hard to pierce the tent of customs that surround me,
The voice of liberation,
Never bothered to come around me.
Few texts written, Who knows when,
Suggested ‘her’ to be hanged, burned, bashed
It justified myself to be cursed, used and served.
‘I’ became the precious ‘thing’
Nothing more than the pride of my owner,
I gained the privilege in the journey of the official moaner.
But now ‘I’ decide to change
Change not just the slice of the rot,
But destroy completely that broken clot,
While you sit and condemn,
While you shout and ordain,
I decide to fight, much more than a victim,
I decide to find respect of being a ‘Woman’.

THE FIGHT

My heart, the first casualty of my ideals,
My burning eye cradle the tears,
I stood by what I felt, and faced
What my heart asked me to follow,
With tears rolling down my cheeks,
I am trying to pacify my emotions,
The anger or the fear that is building up
The loneliness keeps swelling up.
But, like a fighter I have to stand,
With smile on my lips, and
Stubbornness in my eyes,
I know I will do it, as I have always done,
I know I will fight, with me other than none.
-Noor