Woman Was The First Language
Woman Was The First Language


I don't remember Nani and Nana talking
Because the last time
Nana used his belt
Was to fasten her mouth
Not his trousers
And the last time Nani shed blood
Was not hers
But Nana's
Lying unconsciously
Over the bed, they slept
Together
For the five times, they made love
[babies] [boys]
Years have passed
[along with taunts of 'eating her husband']
Bruises are pale now
Her wrinkles assemble
And collect all the strength
When she smiles
Like Durga screaming
Courage in her bent spine
To clear her throat wet with
Nightmares still stuck inside
For when the sixth time
They went to bed
She knew the difference between
Sex and rape
She knew the language
She was born with.
Saraswati left her teachings
As a precautionary
Over my Didi's skin
So when her boyfriend
Started tracing
His lustful demands over her
She knew the difference between
Holding and grabbing
The former leaves a smile
The latter leaves the impression
Of fingers
And fear in the heart
That stole her sleep
And pushed her confidence
Deep down into the throat
To never let her speak
Again
The language
she was born with
Her steps chained
To the manuals of "good girls"
Her food chained with sleeping pills
Her body covered with
Neon warning tapes
But when the pills turned pale
And manuals turned to ashes
She befriended Kali
And since then
">Burns down the
Hypocrite towers
Of silence and men.
Childhood memories of mummy
Talking about
An uncle moving behind
Every day with his failed attempts
To snatch away her dignity
And her voice ignored
Like a distant echo termed
To be useless
Her memory takes her back
Inside the kitchen
Where her focus was on a
Bidirectional arrow
Tilting between
Geometry and cutlery
Heavy towards the latter
But soon she learned
The language she was born with
And she made paper boats
Out of the patriarchy sheets
And bid goodbye to it
For the career, the future had to offer.
Every woman I meet
Tells me a story
About how
The woman was the first language
God invented
And this time
It ate a poisoned apple
Out of the blooded witch of patriarchy
Making it deaf to
Thunderstorms
Tearing her sky apart
And when somehow
It hears a feeble scream
It makes her know the language
She was born with
Maybe God is a human
Whose mouth has been stitched together
With society's norms
Often waiting for a fire alarm
To scream emergency into its ears
For women have been told
To scream fire during situations
Not under control
But they never tell
That the fire will burn her
And if she lives
To tell her tale
She will discover her own language
And maybe someday
God (and we) will hear her
At her birth
And teach her the
First language
God invented.