empathy

A poem for all those girls who ever felt insecure about the way they look

Painting by Thomas Saliot

 

 

I am not

just the colour of my skin, you judge

whether it is an exotic-looking earthy brown

or the colour of the dried up mud on roads you walk over.

I am not

just the make-up I put on, you judge

whether it accentuates my already sharp features

or just covers up the ugly blemishes scarring my appearance.

I am not

just the thick eyebrows, you judge

whether they make a fashionably bold statement

or hideously take up too much space on my unkempt face.

I am not

just the bindi on my forehead, you judge

whether it’s another pretty accessory amongst others

or an unsophisticated display of traditions not “in” anymore.

I am not

just the slick, oiled hair, you judge

whether it’s the secret to my shiny, lustrous mane

or makes my head smell repulsive as a bag of rotting coconuts.

I am not

just the saree I adorn, you judge

whether it’s an elegant piece of clothing

or a gaudy piece of cloth carelessly draped around my body.

I am not

just another Indian girl, you judge

whether you can one day get married to

or not even deserving of a second glance, much less bring home.

I am so much more.

But because you did not make an attempt at all

to look beyond what you only saw with your one-dimensional eyes,

I am not.

—

Submitted to ArtParasites by Keerthana

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