By pointing at my grey-hair,
And telling me that,
My skin stopped glowing.
By showing me my pimple scars,
And pointing at my thinning hair.
And then telling me that it’s out of concern
It’s not a concern, my friend.
It tells me who you really are!
You’re like those thousands
of people who think women
must be beautiful.
Oh! According to your standards of beauty.
Shiny voluminous hair
that’s always picture perfect.
That sits in place how you’ve left it.
A face that glows,
doesn’t matter if the glow is fake.
Eyes lined and lashes curled.
No, they don’t care if it’s fake.
If it’s carcinogenic,
If it’s harmful,
If it’s objectifying you.
No, they just don’t care.
How you look today is what matters,
If you’re pleasing to my eyes,
Long hair, fair skin and oh! that glow.
Scars, marks and tan is not beauty for them
And if you’ve got greys, your life is ruined.
Not married yet? Oh no, what a shame!
It’s not the end.
I have more to say,
More to write,
More to do,
More to beautify.
I work on my mind,
I read more and polish my brain with words.
I practice how to answer your questions,
So that you cannot break me
by your micro-mini standards.
So that you cannot pull me down!
I am a woman of substance,
I beg to differ!
I like my greys,
They are a sign of my intelligence.
They tell you how many books,
I have read.
My ageing skin of wrinkles,
And those slowly developing crow’s feet,
They scream mindfulness,
They show compassion.
My brain explodes with mixed feelings.
And about your concern towards me,
Let me tell you, you’re least concerned.
If you really were, you’d ask me about my,
Work. About my pain,
about my challenges.
You’d give me tips to overcome them.
You’d not be commenting on my beauty.
Because if you knew me the least bit
You’d know what my life is,
What I work towards,
What my values are!
My life is about my values
It’s about the forests,
It’s about words and flying long distances,
Using my paraglider.
My life is of discipline,
Disciple of my mind.
Still, my heart is weak.
It allows me to break rules,
To not follow my own discipline.
My heart breaks from time to time
As a response,
Tears flow down my eyes.
I cry inside when another woman,
Points a finger at me – A woman!
When another woman asks another woman of her beauty,
Asks her to dress up,
Wear a saree, line eyes and apply lipstick
Are we objectifying ourselves?
We should be talking about important matters –
Sports, Politics, Feminism, Work, Life.
There’s a lot to speak.
There’s a lot to do,
There’s a lot to focus on.
I gather all my courage every single day,
To explore a new unheard place.
To seek the voices of animals,
That don’t speak our language,
To understand complexities like climate change.
That’s too much for a brain like yours,
(I am sorry!)
A brain that is still focusing on how
women should look… Err!
Thick, shiny hair. Glowing skin and some natural makeup?
You come to me and tell me that a woman’s life,
Is complete with a child,
That happiness is marriage,
That greatest joy is being with your family,
I must tell you, you’re lucky my friend,
To have it all.
I beg your pardon, I am not like you.
I am not that woman.
I don’t think my greatest happiness
is marriage or a child.
A family? Yes, my family!
What’s my other greatest happiness?
It’s for sure exploring the forests,
Hearing the chirps and the croaks
Yes, I am different.
I am free. Liberated!
If by chance, you see my variation from the norms
The norms that you’re aware of,
Thick hair and makeup!
You’ll see where I am coming from,
It’s shocking at first, I understand.
But the day you start appreciating my difference
I promise I will start accepting your standards. Your views!
Right now, am angry and I just think,
By your standards of beauty,
And pointing fingers at me,
You’re trying to pull me down.
You’re diverting from things that matter to me.
I’d like to tell you that I am such a bitch,
That when you point at my grey hair,
I will answer you back and
Tell you that my grey hair is,
More beautiful than your coloured hair.
That my facial wrinkles are nicer,
And that dark circles are just another
Sign of intelligence!
And healthy skin is disease free. It’s not the glow!
My friend, I want to appeal to you,
To start accepting absurd standards of beauty,
like that of mine.
Because difference is what creates this world,
And difference is what makes our lives valuable!
What you say is true.
That maybe you’re truly concerned about me.
And other women…
I am sorry, I don’t believe you!
And you cannot pull me down by your standards.
I will live with my messy hair,
With hair in my armpits #noshave
I will not line my eyes.
I’d want to call myself – a silver vixen.
The society must learn,
Must get comfortable.
Around women who divert from the norms.