FranKophone

An oppressed woman looks beautiful to the eyes of its predator. She has the most perfect face one can ever imagine. In her eyes, she wears fear. She masks it with kohl. Her nose is held high, lest someone suspects. Her mouth is gagged. She never wails or attracts attention. Her body is marked, ridiculed and trampled upon. In the most remote corner of her heart, she has buried all her dreams and desires. She has lost hope, faith and soul.

No longer do I look forward To wearing my new birthday dress. Impeccably wrapped gifts no longer excite me. I do not cut cakes with numeric candles glowing on it. I ignore most messages, pings and tweets, That remind me of my birthday. With each passing festival I see new trends in the market. Playing with colors or fire is not "my thing" now. I wish no one comes home with a box of sweets in hand. I wish not to be wished at all. I loathe parties thrown by friends, Their birthdays and their weddings. Their house-warming and their baby-showers and their successes. Sipping a drink in hand and Thinking. Reminiscing about chances I had but did not take. Wondering about how lost I am. Where did I lose it ? At fifteen - when I was blissfully unaware ? Or at seventeen ? When I did not know how to do it. Or at twenty one ? When I failed to realize what exactly to do. Sadly I stopped counting after that.

I wish I had a wish. To run wild in wilderness. To walk along hilly paths. To taste the berries of the forbidden tree. To smile for no reason at all. I wish I had a wish.