Breaking the Chauvinistic rules.

So just yesterday,

I found out that I had the right to sweep away,

any doubts about my ability to convey,

work or rather trade,

my ambitions; even if anybody questions why I weighed,

more than just an ounce of the needful, I may;

be what they call - a complete disarray.

And so I carefully staged,

myself; a character in a different play.

And show the world,

how easy it is, to emerge as a lady.

So my gentlemen, sit down;

and watch the blinds being drawn,

don't stir, don't shout;

One thing I really hate, is the male commotion.

You may take my hand,

and kiss a little slower than usual, I understand;

but make sure it's all love and not command,

I'll let you wear my heart on your sleeve, as you demand,

and all the confused interpretations, I'll withstand.

But I'm not a thing to be shoved,

make your bed, or press your clothes,

It's just 8 p.m, and you're not the boss,

just toss a drink and lessen the chaos,

There are worldly affairs, and I'm not bound to agree,

and come in with how you tolerate me,

the moment you wail and it turns derogatory,

the next second I'll flee.

Love is but a piece of grit,

comes with all different shades of feelings with it,

For me, it's just black and blue,

cut the chains, and see where it heads to.

Once my heart was strong and true,

never thought for a while before I gave it to you,

you couldn't make it cold and blustery, in contrast;

it's diamond now, ready to cut hearts of glass.

Not a father, a brother, or a lover

can deter what it takes to be a girl,

Tell me, if my ambitions are so small,

why does it make you perspire?

Who are you to muddle my faith,

if I'm a bride or a thing at stake,

beauty with brains is already a common phrase,

We've got riches, yet you are left to pay,

for the crass assumptions we get to bear everyday.

If I'm stupid, dumb or simply naive,

You've got chances honey, dig a grave;

It's complex- the rules we make,

Femininity is so hard to disclaim.

The belief states: sophistication isn't on my fingertips,

But you expect me to be well-read and do the dish?

My growing affluence isn't just the arrow to my bow,

No wonder you'd lash out when my bra strap shows.

Come stare at my body, it's needless to say,

I'm adorned with plastic crowns and rings of clay;

If I react to disgrace, it's some menace,

wish I could un-invent such biasness.

Look, we have this myriad of dreams;

buckling up on the back seat and negotiating schemes;

sticky notes on dresses of these-

are cliché, now we shall hold the steering wheel.

The drama doesn't just end here, it's only begun;

I'll light the lamp, let the flames burn;

A lot of us do not have the privilege,

laws and normalisation, beyond the reach;

instead of being drowning men who grab at straws,

come, make a life-changing pledge.

#Day27Advent

Image doesn't belong to me.