What Is Our Fault?
What Is Our Fault?3 mins 231 3 mins 231
I am a girl.
Yes, I am a girl.
You people identified me
As a girl
When I was a little fetus
Inside my mother’s womb.
Save my mother, you people decided
To finish me at the beginning,
Thought that I had no right to be born
In the afflicted world.
But my mother protested,
And I opened my eyes.
My mother smiled, cried, became worried;
Your patriarchal society became angry.
Then I gradually started to grow up;
And you people threw a lot of restrictions
On my daily living.
Again with my mother’s effort
I dipped myself in the light of education.
Your society proposed that it was enough,
And I should be married.
One more time my mother’s voice was raised-
Your family agreed to drive us away-
My mother gave her consent
With one dangerous condition
That my learning would not be stopped.
You people nodded your heads
That it would solely be upon my in-laws.
You would not interfere.
Then I was married to a man,
Half-loving, more indifferent
To my wretchedness.
After one year the history was repeated-
There I was enforced to leave all and everything-
My husband, in-laws, my home,
And your so-called civilized society
To commence a new life
With my ill-fated new-born daughter.
I spent a hard livelihood thereafter;
Alone nurtured my girl-child
Avoiding the red eyes of society.
Perhaps you people got the news, perhaps not
That yesterday I got an appointment letter
For a decent service.
Now I fear nobody except Him.
I have got strong wings to fly high
In the open blue sky.
But one question still pricks me that
What is my mother’s fault?
What is my fault?
Even what is my daughter’s fault?
What is the fault of millions of girls like us?
Is it that we are born as girls?
Are we really the burden of this patriarchal society?
If you know the answer, please, call me—
I will surely reach your doors to hear your reply.