The Woman

They peeled off my white coat
They rolled up and locked in my masters
They were not of my blood
Yet they could make me walk on a thread.

They forced on me adornments
Glittering robes and glistening shades
I could just scream at the figure
Staring at me from the mirror.

I am no more the girl of books
I am ‘the woman ‘ of a new house
Dream no more for you,they said,
Dream for your baby and his world.

Though ladles replaced my pens,
Though the broom replaced my books,
I stood firmer than ever
For I have built with fantasies,a tower.

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About Fathima Manal

Dreams,fantasies,words and rhythm-other than skin,bones and muscles I am made up of these.With every drop of blood that my heart pumps,a new dream forms in me.With every breathe,i take the surroundings too inside me.And my poems are just the minute regurgitants of what i accumulate within. I am a doctor from Kerala,India,who should not be supposed to but is in deeply love with words and books more than medical books.Hope you enjoy my poems......

7 thoughts on “The Woman

  1. Mohammad ashraf

    Again the capitalist society shows its hegemony,and again the target is fair sex. . .but she is no longer now a nightingale. .she has metamorphosed into a hawk that sees the vision of a possible better future. . .Her life force can’t be suppressed.she is the new woman.she is going to break the shackles of social tyrrany..all this is typified by the last line.and there i think that the title is misleading. . .she is not a woman but a superwoman. . .it is not blood but white milk that runs through her veins!

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