Womxn, I hear you, by Suhana Simran

Womxn,

I hear you.

Clenched fists heavy with gold,

pounding and thumping and cracking up

the wall without windows.

Gasps and whispers and screams

slowly oozing out through its fissures into the clear blue sky.

Trodding and trudging

Flying and soaring

(just for a moment).

Rough hands pull them back inside

The fissures cemented, closed off

and utter

deadly

silence.

Womxn,

I know your dreams

that seep through the circuitous patterns of your blood-red, henna-dyed palms,

attempting to swell and surge and rise,

but, wane out too soon,

smudged by piles and piles of doubt

washed over by a downpour of tears.

Womxn,

I know you feel alone

against the world chafing your skin,

scraping off, chiseling off pieces

as if your body were but a wayside stone-

a chance discovery,

of a sculptor seeking glory,

s mere tool in his hands

a means to an end.

I know that painters and sculptors,

poets and artists write odes on your beauty,

your magnificence,

your selflessness,

your self-effacing greatness.

Looking upon you all the while from the outside-

they touch your feet

and then slowly crawl upwards on your body like slime

and then stand aloft on your shoulders

to touch the sky.

You stand there

completely still,

like a marionette-

curled lashes, heavy with droplets,

lifeless eyes,

smiling lips.

Womxn,

I know you are not silent

I know you scream, shriek and shout,

though you are choked and muffled and silenced

again and again and again.

Womxn,

I hear you

There are millions and millions and millions of you

who bleed (or do not),

who cry (or do not),

but, who shout (silently or otherwise),

who stumble, who fall, who collapse,

who arise, who ascend, who soar up

like blazing tongues of fire

burning the sky.

Millions and millions and millions of volcanoes

seething with rage inside and rupturing with dreams

just about to erupt.

---

Suhana Simran is a first-year BA English honours student in Miranda House, University of Delhi. Aside from juggling between debating and academics, she manages to scribble poetry on the back of her notebook from time to time. She has contributed micro tales and flash fiction to quite a few Instagram and Facebook pages and blogs. Besides managing her Wattpad account, she likes to hop into random creative writing and story-telling competitions in and around Delhi. A proud feminist, she has recently started venturing into spoken word poetry and believes that words and art are a powerful medium of disseminating new ideas.