The turmoil in our soil

The soil I have grown in

Has silhouette so multiple,

Are they diversity of traditions or tantrums

I couldn’t reach its fulcrum.

Tiptoeing my way from eligible 

to getting married,

An overload of rituals,

left my ideologies buried;

With a veil of dos and don’t margining my forehead

Plucking the florals of my thoughts, now shed.

Why in our country, one women enemies the other

Preparing a pyre of their fate for her new well wisher

Decades have passed, its time to rig in a new change

To not perpetuate one’s own miseries to the generation next,

To ignite the flame of revenge.

Treating daughters as a jewel but why foreign,

Does her marriage buy the right,

to lighten the wick of her kin ;

Omnious was not her family before marriage,

But the skeleton of primitive thought

Now is the time to unleash the chain of rot.