Identity
Who am I?
‘Hey boy! come here’, they called
‘sit here,’ they commanded, domineering
Why did they call me a boy? I wondered.
Is it because of my short hair?
‘Hey, girl! don’t play football,’ they commanded
‘Hey, girl! you are a girl, not a boy!’
How did I become a girl?
Is it because of my long hair?
I saw a long-haired ‘girl’ walking,
‘Hello ma’am’, I said.
‘Excuse me boy I am a man’, she said
‘But hey it’s fine, you are such a cutie’
Stereotypes, high in vibes, blurred lines
My hair grows, her hair grows
I am forced to cut it, she is forced to grow it
Who calls on the shots? You or me?
‘Hey boy, come here, there is space’
I sat in a crowded bus, juggling journey
Hairy hands slowly caressing my thighs
‘Hey boy, where is your house?’
‘Bitch! you deserve it, boys are boys’
They said looking at my red torn eyes
‘Girls should behave, don’t wear a showy dress’
Beaten up, they blame the victim
Firmed his grip and caressed by private
Teary-eyed, 14-year-old alone with a predator
A crowded vehicle, yet nobody there
Caught it, the filthy odor of tobacco
I cut my hair because they asked me to
I braided my long-hair because they asked me to
I danced to their tune, smiled at their authority
Long or short the predator catches them all
Who am I? ‘You are a girl,’ they said.
Who am I? ‘You are a boy,’ they said
Girls are weak, housemakers, not ready for outside
Boys are strong, made for the world
What do you call a girl who raised her voice?
You shun her voice, blaming her ‘Manly’
What do you call a boy, sexually abused?
You shun his voice, blaming him ‘Girly’
Who are you to set the standards?
Does your saffron or white robes raise you?
When did conservatism become the heirs?
You Godmen did God say so?
You decide what I am and you use me
You say what to do and you caress me
You ask me to behave and you catch me
You ask me to be strong and you play with my genitals
God-fearing men, fox in sheep clothing
Authority rules, a sham of religion
You are on your own and I am on my own
So, nobody else decides what we are
I am a boy and I will become a woman
I am a girl and I will become a man
Football is my passion, beautiful long hair my beauty
Cooking with a dress, my right with short hair
Your right over me ends when your norms
Didn’t save me from the froth of a predator
Your victim-blame exposes your affinity
Towards the perversion of sexuality
What if I am a mother with a penis
Maternity, not sexuality or gender, what a child needs
What if I am a father with a vagina
Paternity, not sexuality or gender, what a child needs
Stereotypes forming identities, lacking light
The character of choice, the rightful owner
Of who you are, neither is society or community
Nor the religious conservative that heralds in gluttony
