Freedom

There’s a picture I wish to post

A comment that I want to type

To express the happiness I had

On that day

When it was my birthday

I was wearing a blue spaghetti top

And a pair of shorts,

The picture that I had

Says a thousand words

It’s me, holding two shopping bags

And a bottle of vodka in my hand.

But today, I didn’t have the courage

To put that picture on social media

Wondering what people would think

Or whether my parents would get to know

You see?

We’re all tied in a free world,

We’re all sad in a happy world

And we’re all stereotypical in a modern world.

“You can choose whatever piece of clothing you want to, darling.”

Says mumma

But when I chose a pair of shorts or spaghetti

She refuses.

“Why can’t I wear this?” I ask

“Because we boys would stare at you creepily when you wear that.” Replies she.

Welcome to our world

Where we choose our freedom

Our clothes, our comments,

Our body shapes, our looks

According to the boy’s wishes.

Welcome; to this place

Where we’re taught to take care of ourselves

Where we’re told not show too much cleavage

Where we’re not allowed to show our legs

(Even when we take the goddamn pain of getting those body parts waxed each month)
“Why?”

Oh, because boys would ogle at you, and you’re not ‘that type of a girl’.

So, give me my answers

Tell me how bounded I have to be

Till what time,

Just because I was born a girl?

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3 thoughts on “Freedom

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