*Women Like You*
When I was two and ten,
Compared to my twenty and one now.
I read a book through the cracked screen of a third hand phone.
It was a story of a princess who was all pretty and smart
Who became a queen all good and gracious.
And my worldview suddenly changed
I wanted to ride horses and sing ballads of old,
Wield a sword in a white dress
And be a warrior to behold.
And then I grew up
Life welcomed with open arms
With a touch of wild rose charms.
All prickles, and thorns that slid right under my skin,
Burst balloons of fantasy into a reality grim.
I wore high heels and track pants
And painted my lips brown.
Just an ordinary girl in an ordinary town.
Then one day, my mother asks me to click a picture.
Like all mothers do, in 30 different angles and 3 different lightings.
And I realized she was not dissimilar to the queen that I read off.
She wore her femininity as an armor.
In saris or dresses, she was nothing to scoff.
She wore her dignity as a crown
And her duty hung on her waist
Like a sword of excellent taste.
Why did history books never speak of women with such grace?
Women like you all who walk into old rooms
Like they are a Paris Fashion Week ramp.
Who drink confidence in floral teacups
And change new houses into pocket-sized castles
While making it sound like you are just setting simple tents to camp.
Women like you all who embrace war into your wedding vows
And walk in steps of the shadows of men touched by death.
Women like you who make homes out of lego pieces of families
Regardless of blood, color, religion, or language
Carrying the weight of countries in pastel blue baggage.
Women like you who became queens without crowns.
Queens who never had coronations of a million dollars
Who never had knights in shinning armor
As no armor well used gleams bright
But have olive-suited soldiers who fight with all their might.
Queens who look after not just the warriors alive
But handle their ghosts in softened palms
And salted tears.
Women like you who I read in books of fantasy
Searching for a female figure with strength, power, grace, and dignity.
Women like you are
Not young girls deluded of true loves kiss,
Not princesses waiting for the prince to find the right fit,
Not beauties that slept and were forgotten,
Neither lost royalty hidden in towers.
I see myself being someone real.
Someone like you.
A bit flawed like purples in sunsets,
A bit fierce like a wolf prowling her den,
A bit beautiful like butterfly wings,
And a bit grounded like promise rings.
Women Like you
Become stories to girls like me.
Forget Victoria’s Secret, I want to know what water you mix in your tea.
To be multi-dimensional queens, not one, not two but a roomful that I see.
Women like you are forgotten by historians
Because if the world saw what women could be
We would have to rewrite our history.
-Shreeja Singh
