My short skirt

My freedom,
My comfort,
My feminity,
My confidence,
My enthusiasm,
And my safety net.

When I was twelve
On a sunny beautiful day
My brother screamed at my short skirt,
‘What are you wearing,
GO CHANGE RIGHT NOW!’
For the first time, my short skirt shrinked with,
Insecurity,
Restriction,
Control,
The limits on my rights.

“Mom, please
Why don’t you say something?”
I pleaded with my mom who’s standing right behind.
She did not say a word.

But, well…
What can you do?
When you live in a society
Where
Silence,obedience, and tolerance are
measurement for a good girl behaviour
When the storm comes,
You learn to respond
Not with words but with obedience
Like we always do.

If you repeat something over and over again,
It becomes a norm.
And you get used to it.

My short skirt that enjoys dancing through storms and rain wants to disagree the norms and goes against it.

My short skirt
It neither disturbs nor wants to be disturbed.

Despite the male gaze on my short skirt,
It didn’t bother.
It didn’t beg.
It didn’t seek attention.
It didn’t apologize.
It didn’t cry out loud.
Most importantly, it did not ask for it.
Never asked for it!

My short skirt was torn apart with pain and tears in the name of
Culture,
Family,
Society, and
Rapists.

And just like that
The free-spirited, happy, confident and enthusiastic girl
Vanished along with the short skirt,
As people shout,
Long live Patriarchy!

To
This society,
This Law,
This Culture,
That labelled my short skirt as a dangerous weapon
The girl with the short skirt will just scoff,
PISS OFF!

On the journey to create short skirt as narrow as the mind of the people who judge my short skirt.