The Girl In Me

I'm ecstatic and epigrammatic

I'm unmanageable and unperturbed.

The tomboyish attitude

Within me is unconcerned about

The curtailments promulgated

By the society.

Because my inner- self

Is acquainted

Well- enough

To the limits of my ceiling.

People keep remarking

That

"Beautiful" is something

A girl needs to be.

Really?

Erase that.

I admit,

I'm skinny, dark- complexioned

With black curly hairs.

My skin is dusky and my eyeballs are black.

I love to be dressed in jeans and T-shirt

And a keen lover of shoes and sneakers

Rather than sandals.

But who cares?!

I'm beautiful in my own way!

I'm aggressive, bossy

Annoying, moody

Difficult, 'too- much'

Kind and smart.

I'm straight-forward

And my life

Is an open book

To the society.

But guess what?

A part of me inside

Is a witness of

My skirmishes everyday

With the pun

Of the society.

I had cried alone at nights,

Pillows were

My only companions

Which could hold on

My tears.

The following morning,

I rise up

As a

New substituted girl

Who believes that

Tears actually

Give strength and self- confidence.

I'm a package of

Everything in this universe:

Intelligence, adventure,

Talent, craziness, klutz,

Strength, weakness

And what not.

There are

An eternity of other things

To be other than an 'ideal' beauty.

What is "beautiful", anyway?

It is just a set of letters

Arranged together

To form a word?

I've my own depiction

Of Stunning!

I see beauty

In my eyes

Which sees beauty

In the world.

After all,

Beauty lies

In the eyes

Of the beholder.

And that's the chief preoccupation

Of my inner- self!

There's a part of me

Which is masculine.

There's a part of me

Which is feminine.

Last but not least,

There's a part of me

Which you're unknown of.