Of Snapdragons and Women

We women are like snapdragons,

We are beautiful and we’re wise.

Didn’t like the last word that I used?

Oh yes please, cut that out,

I hope you’ll feel very nice.

We women are like snapdragons

We come in every hue and colour.

From fiery red to purple and pink

And a dainty white pallor.

And in a million other pigments and textures

And varieties do we come.

Don’t like this diversity that you see?

Okay, just make a perfect little mold

And tell us all to follow it,

Like it’s worth more than gold.

We women are like snapdragons;

We will decorate your little house

And make it a living paradise

And every blemish shall we douse.

With our beauty and grace and charm shall we

Cherish your abode, as if it’s our own.

Oh, did I hear an “Excuse me?” from you

The moment I uttered “own”?

I’m sorry I forgot, that’s a blasphemy

For the fate of a slave is written in our blood and bone.

We women are like snapdragons-

As shy as we can possibly get.

We’ll snap our mouths and drown our voice

When you touch us

And feast on our dignity without regret.

We women are like snapdragons –

Like medicine can we work

To treat your ulcers and your haemorrhoids

Wait! We have many, many more perks.

Edible oils can you get from us

And dyes to beautify your attire,

And a million other ways to exploit us,

Shall you come up with, without a tire.

And to this we’ll just humbly nod

And say that we will accept it.

For we are too scared to face your wrath

Throw an insult, we’ll silently receive it.

And thus, when you have killed our colours

And robbed our wisdom and snatched our dreams

And raped our rights and extorted our individuality,

We’d still say there’s a snapdragon within us.

We know you’ll laugh at the failed optimism that we share.

But fear not, I assure you, that hope is not misplaced.

For we are not just the colourful flowers that you see

We are not just the bunch of petals that garnish your homes vividly.

Because every flower that you crush,

Withers away like wilted leaves.

And leaves behind a skull that screams

Of burns and bruises and broken dreams.

And inside each one of us this skull we bear

Of common dreams of unity.

A symbol of the remembrance of

Our fallen sisters of eternity.

Written by Aditi Tarafdar

Edited by Shailaja Yasmine Das

Illustration Credits: JeyRam https://in.pinterest.com/pin/599541769131775567/