Torch
personalities shrivel
to facsimiles
behind honourable facades;
injustice tolerated,
because laundry’s
never washed publicly;
venerated more for
the softness of her voice,
than the truth in her words;
the weight of expectations
presses on each nerve,
kindling a nagging agony
that leaves her
whimpering,
a curled pup
waiting to discover
the wolf fangs
that would either
swallow her into darkness,
or carve her voice
to the howl that breaks
the glass ceiling;
fingers crossed
for the latter
while grieving
for the agony that would,
finally,
unchain the wolf,
we do the only thing we can,
we gift words of power,
of encouragement;
examples that scars
need not always
be on our own skins…
Inspired by the following quote from a Hindi poem
तू आरती की लौ नहीं ,
तू क्रोध की मशाल है *
By Tanveer Ghazi
*You are not the gentle glow of an aarthi (invoking Gods’ benediction), you are the flaming torch of anger.
© Indira Reddy 2020
