It was the year 1996
I was in the first year of college
Undergoing an internship
At an ad agency
With other rookies like me
We talked about books, movies galore
I found I didn’t remember much
Even then, my memory
Was like mercury to touch
All those books
That I’d read
Seemed to have flown
Right out of my head
I talked way too much,
Let my guard down
Enough to create
A scandal in town
One girl told me
“The boss wants you to wear a short skirt”
I used to wear long salwars and didn’t flirt
I felt completely miserable
Coz at heart, I was still a prude
Not interested in getting friendly
With this creepy old married dude.
When I went back to college
I complained to my HOD
Who seemed to think
I was making a mountain
Out of a molehill,
And she smiled benignly at me.
One of the teachers
Came to my house
And tried to tell me
I should complain
Against my boss, the louse!
I wanted to have no part in it
Since by then,
I wanted to forget it all, bit by bit.
One girl from the agency
While I was still there
Had told me disturbing stories about herself
About four guys who 'loved' her
And one of them who wrote her number
On their college compound wall saying,
“Call her, she’s a whore”
I was so distressed to hear that
My thoughts started to swirl
I concluded by then
It’s quite sick to be born a girl
Years have gone by
I’ve grown stronger
And wiser since then
What I observe these days is that
Girls much younger than me
Are so ‘in charge’ and clear
About who they are
They are not filled with fear
Nor are they timid and shy
Those are the qualities
Of the meek, who inwardly die
To survive today
You need to be bold
Else you will be always a doormat
Life’s not about doing as you're told!
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