I was born on a stormy night,
Soaked in blood from outside
But devoid of blood from inside.
Doctor thought, I will not survive the night
But the night did not last long
And, I survived.
I was brought home through dusty road,
Drenched from last night’s rains.
Papa thought, I will have discomfort in rickshaw ride
But the discomfort happened to my family.
Some fretted over a second girl child,
While others prophesied for the third one.
In the hassle of speculations,
I grew up side by side.
Time oscillated between spring and autumn
And, paradoxes transformed to quotidian.
Prayers were chanted and rites were repeated
At places of worship to seek blessings.
My destiny was read again and again
In a corner of the astrologer’s room.
Stones and amulets were passed to me
To remove even the speckle of adversity.
That day at the back of my head
In the crowded spaces,
I found my silver lining
Far away from the Gods and Demons
In the pen and paper.
I picked my pointed Reynolds
To tell the world that I live a life of anomalies.
I thought what difference does it make
In an unclaimed territories
For a child of paradox
To narrate some of them.