That Indian Girl

Get her to study

Else no one to marry her

With that dusky skin

No married life; maybe a good career

Said my relatives who want the best for me

These are the kind of sick people who we have to call our family.


That’s just silly

A woman can do both

Be perfect as a housewife

And have a kickass career growth


Why is it assumed

That it’s beauty or brains

A woman can have both

And rule the world and slay.


Her skin does not determine

How much love she would get

It’s what is under that skin

That only the right people would appreciate.


A real man would not be intimidated by her

But rather support her and be ‘partners in crime’ forever.

However, with every strength, comes a weakness,

So she got over thinking and thinking beyond endless.


The world knows that and seeds self doubts in us.

It breaks us from inside and puts us on self destruct.

The world wants us weak; wants us suppressed

The idea, that as a brown girl, we are only meant to impress.


Sit properly, dress decently, eat slowly and talk softly

Oh Fuck You, dear society, you sound so very ghastly.


I cuss and I yell

And it may be hard to tell

Whether I am still the “good girl”

Or to the society, a filthy rebel.


But rebels are the ones, who make history

Sometimes as a badass and sometimes as a lady

No wonder to a man, we still remain a mystery


So as one of the many “Indian Girls”

From the one with straight hair to the one with curls

From the one cute as a button to the “sexy bomb”

From the one with sharp angles to the one with the curves

From the one as white as snow to the one as dark as the peaceful night sky

We are all on our own

To succeed and fly high.


Photo credits:


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