She inside me
by K Satchidanandan
As a child I used to dance
in front of the mirror
in skirt and bangles.
That girl is still dancing inside me.
I conceal her with my hair,
man’s voice and attire.
But at times she leaps out,
breaking every shell,
longing to be addressed as
mother and sister and daughter,
tempting me to befriend
women more than men,
leaving me wondering
whether what I feel
towards some men is just
friendship or intimate love,
being persecuted, resisting,
taking over the anger and tears of
child-brides, widows, prostitutes,
and slain women and
cursing the world of men.
I would have danced in squares
had I not been scared
of men’s stoning.
Abuse me saying I am
neither man nor woman:
I reject gender; God
doesn’t have one.
But I refuse to be used as a cover
for a coward to kill an old man.
K Satchidanandan is a major Indian poet, with twenty-four collections of poetry to his credit, as well as several collections of world poetry in translation. The two primary languages he writes, speaks and thinks in are Malayalam and English. A fearless voice against oppression of all kinds, his many public roles have included being Director of the School of Translation Studies, IGNOU, Delhi, and National Fellow at the Indian Institute of Advanced Studies, Shimla.