Anasuya Priyadarshini Pradhan
Anasuya, a researcher-cum-poet, presently pursues her research in IIT Roorkee. Love for Language & art, for dance & culture, for people & their lives, she had from her early days.
She has emerged as an author after her debut book “Seasons of Love: A Journey from No-where to Now-here”, is paperback and marketed by Amazon. Her ink has been praised in various national and international magazines, anthologies, blogs, poetry forums & journals. She was the Editor of the annual mouth piece ‘Ayashkanth’ in Ravenshaw University (2010-11), was a member of the official e-newsletter ‘Monday Morning’ in NIT Rourkela and few of her view points were also published in National Dailies. In addition to this, she also manages a Facebook page to her name ‘Anasuya P. Pradhan’.
I GO GIRLISH!
I was given birth,
Bestowed with a life,
Before seeing the sunshine and dew,
I found my world as blue,
The reason was neither new,
Being a girl,
I was a born burden,
That everyone viewed.
I was growing fast,
My stammer deserved a blast,
But the sweet presence was certainly,
Not more than a jest!
There was no jubilance,
No one was merry,
I was left shirk and neglected,
And people hardly bothered!
At the very genesis,
When I began to eat,
Started sharing with my brother,
My favorite chocolates and dish.
I was learning to go girlish,
I learnt to share, learnt to care,
I was taught to compromise,
To give up and cringe.
I was in the voyage of becoming a belle,
Slowly and steadily,
My growth made me bleary,
I was cultured to be within the four walls,
Hardly I was permitted to move,
And I have been treated,
As a prey, as a puppet.
I was sobbing,
I was boggling within,
I was traumatized,
When saw the glimpse of being mean.
I was given with the minimum education,
I was made to learn the household chores,
I burnt my hands while cooking for others,
I slipped up while carrying heavy buckets,
I became sick working restlessly,
Still couldn’t have a voice for myself.
I was forcibly married off,
When asked for higher studies,
And married off with heavy dowry,
As if I was their business object,
Still couldn’t have a voice,
And that was not the end of the story,
I was getting raped legally,
Not once, not twice,
But again and again,
Inside the four walls,
On the bed of roses.
Still failed to have a voice!
I was a slave in the broad day light,
And a mere sex object at night,
I never have a fixed time to go bed,
But I’m bound to wake up at the dawn’s shade!
I keep working,
Keep worshiping my husband,
Keep serving my in-laws,
Sans a holiday,
Sans a sick leave,
Sans a single pause!
I learnt to smile when the days are tough,
But I’m curbed to laugh,
I learnt to empathize,
And make my own wishes minimized.
I’m well versed with softness,
But I’m expected to endure extreme harshness,
I’m the cook,
But I hardly enjoy my food.
I’m the launderette,
But I barely wear my favorite wardrobe,
I’m the care-taker,
But my things are painfully taken care off!
I am in dubiety!
How can the world be so mean?
How can humans go barbarous?
How can my angelic beauty be taunted?
How can my candid heart be repeatedly broken?
How can my body me jeered, assailed, and raped?
Still why am I compelled to keep quiet?
I’m bound to calm my vigor within!
I’m forced to stay mute!
I’m made to be a puppet!
Is it just because I need to go girlish?