"Is it my fault that I am a woman?"
Poetry by Parneet Kaur A younger me, Just two hours ago, Sitting in my pretty little dressing room, Blushing my cheeks and painting my eyes, Brilliantly thought of wearing a pretty dress, And go out with my girls tonight. I then opened a window, and cool breeze touched my each limb, Freezing my nerves and weaving something in me. Just as metamorphosis happens With powers of the supreme Bacchus, In turning Pentheus into a boar in Ovid's "Metamorphosis". I metamorphosed my musical notes inside me, Into deep silences no one could hear and I realized, I couldn't step out, I am bound within frames of my life. "Eh, going out is a thought of self-asphyxiation." My spirit said to me. When I move out at night, Wandering through the shady roads at 12 a.m. with my favorite red dress, In a such an unknown world, I fear from a bus that is passing by. I feel perilous and my thoughts take me back to imagination of son's of mothers, And the rod, And the gang of th
