Through terrible anguish, enduring it all, I hid myself in the folds of a beautiful sari.
How many tears these eyes shed before I rimmed them with kohl—that news I never let anyone know.
Knowing the whole truth, I never testified in the end.
Half-fed, I went to take exams—never complained to anyone.
My lover would leave me standing on the street, waiting—I never even sulked.
Through the holes in our tin roof, water dripped and dripped my whole life long—I never complained.
When I desperately needed them, my dear friend wouldn't answer the phone.
Having no good sari, I didn't dare go to my rich relative's wedding.
Hungry, I kept waiting, yet never asked my mother for even one more plate of rice.
In my moments of joy, ready to laugh out loud, I found no one to laugh along with me.
I cannot ask, cannot speak up, cannot sulk or complain.
Not everyone can do everything!
I want to become a bird and fly away somewhere. Carrying this human life around, today I am weary.