As a little girl my father cursed me
because of the dowry I would need
my mother never loved me
for I lessened my brothers share
I longed but never went to school
unlike my little brother
who hated the very idea
and tore away his books.
Then one day I was told
tomorrow was my marriage.
I went to another house,
not home.
I was just another Indian girl.

I began to cook, swept and swabbed
while my in-laws constantly cursed
about how less a dowry
my little hands had brought
and how much they had lost.
I made trips back home
not to visit, but collect a booty
a vain attempt to pacify.
I gave birth to one of my kind
unhappiness prevailed once again.
she was not allowed to stay.
I had nothing to say.
I was only another Indian daughter-in-law.

Finding life futile
I stood against all whims.
I wanted freedom
to tear away all ties.
My husband, once supportive
tried hard to throttle my dreams.
I had to follow his family rules
that was the way.
So I remained,
just another Indian wife.

Streaks of grey are peeping through,
my little boy’s now a man.
My husband owns another wife
while I am stranded
just to share life.
I am now a complete Indian woman.

Born an Indian daughter
to be an Indian daughter-in-law
a wife and mother bedecked with flaw
I have completed my cycle.
Will I attain moksha?