To Be A Proper Lady

The school was not far, nor was the walk home long

Yet it took her a good half an hour

Stopping to admire every flower

Kick the stones and score imaginary goals

Her small little revenge against those goons

The ones who would not let her play

The ones who said she was a girl 

Jumping into puddles, splashing water,

Grinning wide, thinking of mom’s scolding

Complaining the shirt would never be white again

That the scars on her knees would never be gone

That she’d never be a proper lady like 

Rama aunty’s daughter

But who cared!

Carefree, happy and bubbly

That’s how she wanted to live!

 

This Leo, the one who does not let me be lazy and I, the one who tends to take unnecessary breaks, are doing the UBC together this July. Prodding and prompting each other, we have decided to write about School today.
(Visited 1 times, 1 visits today)
The following two tabs change content below.
Writing to me is therapy, it frightens and comforts at the same time. Liberates like nothing else. A book in my own name is a dream, but a bigger dream would be to write something that haunts the reader even after the last page is turned and the book is shut. I enjoy reading and music, spending time with family whilst battling my social awkwardness.

Latest posts by Bhavya (see all)

18 thoughts on “To Be A Proper Lady

  1. yes, who cares… we are happy as we are … 😉

    Btw, I too have a pic similar to your second one… same expression… but instead of bag it was a ball… Soul sistaaaa <3

  2. Nice poem and I can imagine how it is for kids who are not allowed to explore their energies and are advised to behave in a “certain” way! Thanks!

Leave a Comment

CommentLuv badge

%d bloggers like this: