Poem: Being a woman

Poem: Being a woman

“It is a GIRL”

I heard the nurse say.

And somewhere inside the womb

I felt my mother’s tear drop on my cheek.

I heard my grandmother’s scream

And sensed my father’s anger.

“I’m sorry” said my mother

Like it was her fault.

I listened to their plans

Whether to kill me today or tomorrow.

But I wasn’t even born yet!

I begged,and pleaded,and cried from inside

But my tiny voice was unheard.

She heard it, my mother,heard it.

And she had a will to protect me.

She protested,but all 

she received, was TORTURE.

I begged the almighty,and he

Granted me this one wish.

They agreed,my father and grandmother.

But little did I know that

This birth,

Was going to be worse than foeticide .

The day I was born.I saw crying faces.

Instead of the smiles and cheers,

There were anger and tears.

I saw my grandmother disgusted,

And my aunt,angered.

My mother gave birth to a son,an year later.

And I saw what a BIRTH actually meant.

Sweets were shared,smiles all over,

Celebrations took place,and not

a single tear was shed that day.

He was taught with pride,

And I as a compulsion.

He was loved,and I was just a shameful burden.

He was the apple of everyone’s eye,

And I, a thorny stem.

They got rid of me, 

when I was still young,and

married me to someone double my age.

He died soon enough,and I 

was forced to wrap myself

In the wrath of fires.

But I escaped,

I had another life inside me already.

I had to give a BIRTH.

I never went to the doctor,

To care what gender it was.

I wanted to welcome my child to this world.

To my fortune,I received both.

I thanked the almighty,for this bounty.

My daughter, was an Angel

And my son, a miracle.

I loved them both.

When they grew up, things changed,

I was old and wrinkled,and both of them, utterly beautiful.

My daughter,loved me.

Walked with me,and spoke to me.

But,my son,loved himself.

He screamed like my father,

And looked at me with disgust.

Both of them got married soon,

I had to send away my Angel,

And bring home my son’s bride.

They kicked me out of the home,soon.

For my voice,stammered,my hands shivered.

And I needed care and time,

But they were busy.

My daughter held  me that day,

And took me to her house.

Loved me like a child, made me feel blessed

I thanked the almighty,for this bounty..

In a matter of time,she was 

To give BIRTH to a child.

The doctors said it was to be a SON.

Surprisingly, none of us celebrated.

Because,all of us knew who cared.

But we did also know that not everyone was alike.

Her son,was an Angel too. 

And he remained so,even when he grew up.


I slept peacefully that night,

And never woke up.

Being a woman,

is hard.

But letting someone be one,

Is harder.

But nothing wonderful,

has ever been easy.

That’s what BEING A WOMAN is all about

Author Profile

Prachi Behrani
Prachi has had a love for writing ever since she was a child. Published two books, Somewhere in my Heart and The Unsaid, both of poetry.
Latest entries

We love hearing from you! You can also reply anonymously skipping the details!

%d bloggers like this: