She came out with a blush on her cheeks.. Let the blush not turn into blood.. She whined melodiously.. Let the melody not turn into a shriek of cry.. She ran around the house with a doll in her hand.. Let that doll not burn to ashes in the flames of desires for a boy.. She always played with her mother’s bangles.. Let the bangles not burden her own fair , tender wrists.. She looked up at her father with a sense full of pride.. Let the pride not change in fear and disgust..
She let her eyes get dazzled with dreams in them.. Let the society’s truth not blind the eyes.. She had a heart beating to live.. Let the heart not change into a lifeless stone..
Why is the mother’s smile shrunk and faded when the nurse says “Congratulations! It’s a baby girl.” Why do the eyes lose the spark in them when the angel is placed over in the lap? Why does the father start feeling heavy in his chest when he sees the girl for the first time? Why do his shoulders stoop down when he is driving home with a new family member? Why does the neighborhood start chattering about the mother’s inability to bring an heir of the family in this viscous world? Why?
A daughter is no more a commodity to be given away to another house measured in some kilos of dowry. She has to be a woman of matter and knowledge and substance. She is no more a piece of gold to be locked up. She has to be let out of the doors.. in the sunshine , against the mountains , amidst the swaying lushy trees , to flow with the river and chirp with birds. She no more needs a man to give her a shelter of support. She has to fight her own way out in this sham world full of criticism. She no more needs her husband’s surname to legalise her existence. She has to learn to carry her identity with a blast of dignity. She no more needs burning tongs in her hands. She has to learn to survive with a pen held in her fingers. She no more needs to cover her face with a veil. She needs to walk out of the perplexing myth of dressing her respect out. She no more needs to lower her voice. She has to let the world hear her opinion loud and strong. She no more needs to be a wife or a mother first. She has to be a woman driven by her desires. Let a relationship not unveil her identity in public. Let her work , her character do the job. Because she has to be a woman, no more a slave.
Give her a chance and see her shine bright in the darkness of evil customs. Give her a chance and see her dance around in the boredom of this manly monotony. Give her chance and see her stand out in the crowd. Give her a chance and see how she takes the honor of her family ahead. Give her a chance and see her rule. Rule you, rule me , rule us and rule this world!
