Me too,
In public places –
As preying eyes fall
On my breasts
And neon bra strap.
Me too,
When people look away
And blame women for having a vagina
Because
In her kurti,
T-shirt,
Burqha,
Skirt,
Dress
Or whatever else she wears (or doesn’t) –
It happens to be her fault.
It happens to be my fault.
Me too,
In the metro,
In a bar
Looks that want
To undress you from afar.
Me too,
When I say no to a drink
And get followed around instead.
Me too,
When some cheap Bollywood song
Is sung to gather my attention
Just because…
Me too,
When my naa means naa
But you still think it’s haan
And message me online
To be a fraaand.
Me too,
In the many times
I let go of your prying eyes.
Me too,
When I smoked a cigarette
Drank some beer
And you thought you could,
In that moment,
Be more than just a friend.
Me too,
So many times –
Times that I can’t count.
Me too,
When we have to text and call
Every time to inform our loved ones,
That we’re safe and sound.
I’m screaming here, ‘me too’
Like my fellow womenfolk.
But how many ‘me too’s
Would it take
For this to just fucking stop
Today?