feminismFrom Print Edition

Aakriti Pasricha

TISS Student

I poop. I have hair everywhere.

Above my lips and below them.

 

I have hair in places you always thought had none.

I have hair in places you want to visit, check out.

 

I have eyebrows that are shaped every three weeks

to look like a curve, a road, a neat path

so that you don’t feel lost when you see me.

 

I also pee. Sometimes I fart.

I sneeze, more than a quiet sound, and then things come out of my nose.

I love laughing out loud even if I sound like a witch.

 

My eyes are not always full of kohl.

Sometimes my lips have more than a coat of gloss,

They have anger, and bitter words.

 

Sometimes, I cry. I’m not always happy and smiling.

There are nights when under the sheets

my hands slip into my underwear,

I masturbate.

 

Some days my shoulders hunch, I don’t always walk straight

And I like to sit with my legs wide open.

Once every month, I menstruate for four days

 

There’s blood, it’s thick and red and dark

And it hurts, and it flows continuously,

Also, my clothes hide it well,

but I have a tummy and marks and scars

from childhood games.

 

Every day you expect me to hide who I am

from you

 

So that I can become an image you can idolize

an object too perfect.

 

But, when you cut me, I bleed.

I’m human.

 

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