She

 

A little lamp was her Sun,

In whose light she tried to read,

A torn book discarded by her brother,

While the darkness, her friend,

Kept patriarchal monsters at bay!


On a quiet night as she read,

Footsteps sent a shiver down her spine,

From the darkness emerged her mother,

Like a deity, her face glowed in light,

Strength and confidence in her poise.


“I want to study, mom,” meekly she whispered,

As tears trickled down her cheeks,

Her mother’s eyes welled up too,

And though she knew the risk of it,

“And study you will!” She declared that night.


A brand new book found its way,

To her tender hands for the very first time,

So mesmerised she was by the scent of paper,

“I’ll make you proud, mom,” she assured,

“I already am, my love. I already am!”

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