Notes on how to identify an oppressed woman

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.

Comments

The Enchantress said…

Touched

wish I could tell her that you are Beautiful and You too can roar like a Lion

March 28, 2014 at 5:20 AM

IceMaiden said…

This was powerful, in a sad, quiet kind of way. Good writing, Anwesa. :)

March 31, 2014 at 6:34 PM

UNUTTERED WHISPERS

I know it was you, following me all along. I don’t need eyes to see you. It started raining and I paced up. You were anxious about me.You offered me your umbrella with your face hidden.Only if you had understood me ! I never said those three words, but I thought you knew. P.S 1:My first attempt at 55 fiction. P.S : A real big thank you to all blogger friends who made my birthday "A day to remember".

ILLUSIONS OF REALITY...

The more you point out my mistakes, The more you are drawn towards me. The more you try to hurt me, The more you bleed in your heart. The more you run away from me, The more my memories haunt you. The more you want to forget me, The more you are reminded of my presence. The more you want to chase me away, The closer I come to you. The more you hate me, The more you end up loving me. The more you call me an “illusion” The more I dawn as the reality of your life….

CONFESSION OF A WOMAN...

When I'm born,I'm jeered at.When I'm a child,I'm made to believe that my reason for existence is somebody else.While I'm growing up,I'm discouraged to question.My brain and heart are numbed.I cannot die too,since it will bring infamity to my family.People would say,"At this age,what could have forced her to terminate herself ? She failed to materialize her fantasy.Such bad morals." I fast for the well-being of my father and brothers.When I outgrow my frocks,I'm let off to another household.There, I work for others, without pay.I have children but they treat me like a door-mat.Here too,I fast for my husband's and childrens' long,peaceful life.When the man of the house,who happens to be my "husband" dies,I shed a part of my soul.I have no right to live then,I just breathe and sit in a corner.Rest of my life is spent in praying-for death.They say, "Woman needs a man.In childhood,its father.In youth,its husband and in old age,i...

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