Draped into the covers
of rituals,
behind the veil
of irrationality,
reside somewhere
a body named women,
on the verge of
ferocity;
Not ready to sccumb,
the lady now knows
her virtue,
now she is devoted,
to not be
the last in the queue;
Leaving her alarming fears,
she is on her wildest form;
Believing on her
own spirits,
she is thriving
to be a storm;
Detecting the stepping stones,
she is ready to need no pair,
knowing she is
capable,
she’ll let people
talk and stare;
Throwing away the feminine
fabric,
wrapping herself into courage,
she creates her own define;
Exploiting the blind traditions,
tearing the old pages,
forming her own regulations,
she is inscribing a new chapter;
She is making the word ‘change’
come true,
erasing the blot on womenhood
which was due;
Silence is her enemy,
she’s friends with revolt now,
she won’t think any
challenge as ‘how’;
Broke the jail,
Ripped the curtains,
Shattered the bars,
Splitted the coop,
Smashed the cage,
Yes, she is the body
named- Women;
– Jigyasa Mishra
Petrichor 