I am girl. The word ‘girl’ brings the images of thousand damsels that ‘men’ lust to the mind, those pretty models showing off their insignificant figures that are meant to appeal to ‘men’, flimsy frame swaying to impress the ‘men’ craving her body like a monster in search of fresh flesh, the petrified little woman who isn’t aware of what is happening to her, the shallow lady hiding behind the door; covered in attire in case those ‘men’ don’t get their lustrous eyes on her, the teenager who is meant to stay at home while the ‘men’ of their family enjoy the wonders of the outside world while she hides from other ‘men’ just like them.
Made of the same substance, have the same heart, same skin, same hair yet her position remains so low.
“Why?” is the question that remains in minds like mine.
In the era of men we raise our voice and question you, “Why?”
Standing with my army that overshadows your self made superior figure we ask you, “WHY?” You wanted a ‘strong lady’ by your side to fulfil your inner desires while she remains silent but the ‘strong lady’ has raised her voice and she asks you. “Why?”
Don’t shame me for trying to ask a simple question. We were always told asking questions is crucial in understanding something. Here I am trying to understand your mind.
Don’t yell at me; I’m only doing what I’m taught to do.
Don’t raise your hand at me; You have no right to do that. All I did was ask you a question that my mind is fraught with.
I did nothing but ask you one question “Why?”
I am a girl and I ask all of you. “Why?”
“Everyone wants a strong woman until she actually stands up, flexes her muscles, projects her voice
Suddenly she is too much. She has forgotten her place. You love those woman ask ideas, as fantasies but not as breathing living human beings threatening to be even better than you could be.”