For Jyoti Singh.

I’ve been hardened by the earth.
And stood valiantly through the test of times.
I have gleamed in the sun and I have been adorned on your patriarchal whims and fancies.
Im not as feeble as you think me to be.
And you cant break me.
And if you do, the shattered crystals will brighten up with new rage and anger.
But I’m not a diamond, I’m the very earth.
And you cannot push me down
As none lays beneath you
And I’m the potter that carves you 
But you’ve filled the pot with screams and pleads, Of justice from your heinous deeds.
And I’m the earth, the giver of life.
Yet I’m more than it, yet I’m devoid of it.
But I’m not the earth, I’m a flower.
I’m  not gentle and easily hurt.
But that’s how you’ve painted me to be.
You’ve potted me firmly in the ground of your virtues,
And watered me with a lesser opinion of myself.
But oh dear, you’ve forgotten,
That I too have bloomed ,
Into the fruit that feeds you, 
Into the berries that poison you,
And the seeds that will write your fate.
But I am not a flower, I am the metal deep below.
I’ve been soft and you have moulded me.
But I have been strong before you too.
And I will be crude enough to crush you.
And I’m rusted now.
I’ve been twisted and turned,
But now I’m an axe, a knife, a sword
I’m not a cry, a plea, a request.
I’m a shout, I’m a demand, I’m a battle cry.
And I’m not things you can hold in the palms of your hand.
Not a flower, nor iron, not a diamond, nor mud.
I’m a woman. I am Nirbhaya (Fearless)