She is the folkloric woman,
Passed down from generation to generation.
Body draped in a traditional kanjivaram sari
Or perhaps those so finely woven
In holy Banaras
she is invoked as a Goddess
Devi.
Reigning from the time
That Sita rose from the earth
And Draupadi from the flames.
‘Staining’,
The name of their husbands
The words of the holy books –
Recited
In hushed whispers
Of snakes and stains and women
As one.
She, who holds God in womb
Isn’t allowed to enter the temple
When human life –
Yet to be perfected
Is let go,
In tidal waves of agony.
And when
God’s cries resonate
With those of a newborn child
The stone statues
With flowers incense and prayers
Littered at their feet,
Remain silent.
She bleeds a red river
The colour of her life every month
And yet
When with silent approval
The vermillion in her parting
and the tilak on a man’s forehead
Is accepted
The red that flows and stains
From in between legs
Is silenced.
Porcelain dolls turned Barbies
And the silences turned to those
Of unwanted hands – exploring the geography of her body.
Syllables unspoken in shame.
The silent conversations that giggled
With hypocrisy
Are transient
And as she bleeds
Or when she is raped
It is the screams
In between her legs
On the hospital bed
And the sound of heels
As she walks over
Those who condemned her
The folkloric woman
The goddess
To a silence
Transient
And now broken.

Featured artwork by SSH