Them and their theories.

They see my floral dupatta,

which mother had picked from Calcutta,

My oiled parted hair at the mid,

and my cotton kurta not too vivid.

Seeing me walk cautiously,

they exclaim ‘Oh! How femininely’

They smile looking at me approvingly,

and tell their daughters to behave similarly. 

Little do they know I give no damn,

how femininely they think I am.

The moment I dare walk in skirt too small,

I become less of a woman in one call. 

I know not of them nor their theories,

Of how dress and brains are related mysteries,

styling icons are completely dumb divas, 

While, too revealing outfits are reckless Delilahs.  

If only they could see the spirit within,

they would know She is a home.

Strong, calm, generous and a virago,

She certainly is too big for their ego. 

Lots of love,

Prerana