Hello, Can you hear me? [Yes] Are you a feminist ?"

At 6 in the morning

Amidst her dreams 

Half asleep 

Riya hears the voices 

Of the dishes being cleaned. 

The dishes

Cracking up to make the world collide. 

Her mother, 

Following her routine

For other's needs,

She has always been keen 

Leans through the door. 

Sees her sleeping 

She thinks a little more 

'Utho beta, 

School nahi jaana?' 

And she's shaken into reality 

Their hands meet each other 

And she could touch the traces of discomfort. 

She's burning with a fever 

A quiver so strong. 

That even god kneels down. 

Their eyes battle with each other

And without a word exchanged, 

She asks Riya, 

'Are you a feminist?' 

Riya picks up her school bag 

In a jiffy 

And stuffs the sandwich,

In her mouth. 

She sings her favourite song.

As she rides the bicycle 

Looks by the side. 

Sees a father, tyrannical 

He is beating his daughter 

For talking about the nearby school. 

Shocked and triggered 

Riya looks at that adult fool 

That girl cries 

A cry so strong 

That even good kneels down. 

She looks into her eyes. 

And with every tear falling down. 

She asks Riya

"Are you a feminist?" 

Every now and then 

Riya feels perplexed. 

Leans by the classroom bench 

Thinking about

The society's resistance, entrenched. 

The school bell rings 

And she gets back to home. 

One step forward 

And she feels masculinity all around.

The living room, 

Filled with unfamiliar men. 

And two women of the house. 

'They are from the village' 

Her mother takes her aside, 

And tells what's that all about. 

'They are furious and filled with rage. 

For, they are negotiating on the ancestral land.' 

The silence is broken 

When her grandmother takes a stand. 

'The land is possessed by the whole village and not just by us' 

She apparently let's the glory of the grandfather 

Down. 

He shuts her up. 

By saying what not 

The old woman realizes, 

What she forgot.

He gives her a look, infuriated. 

A look so strong. 

That even god kneels down. 

Her shaking hands and teary red eyes. 

Meet Riya. 

Without a word exchanged, 

They ask her, 

'Are you a feminist?' 

Riya stands there, 

With her fist clenched. 

Looks into each and every eye. 

Wants them, to feel a wrench. 

Shouts to the top of her lungs. 

'Crap!' 

She looks at the floor. 

And with every tear lost. 

She asks, 

'Am I a feminist?

Can I be a feminist? 

Will they let me be a feminist?' 

a.s