As dawn broke over the far horizon, and the sky into a million hues;
As the clouds broke to greet sunshine, and a new hope into a smile..
She set out in search of her broken pieces, to make herself whole again.
Pieces of jewels moulded by years of cautious concern,
surrendered to a bloodless moment,
broken and scattered in the dust,
trampled upon by hurried steps and dormant souls.
Resplendent in their bruised glory,
they shone through their agony,
A slice of confidence crumbled by the unsolicited advice of a well-wisher,
A chunk of dignity ripped off by the vacuous verdict of a trusted one,
A sliver of self-respect shredded by the condescending remark of a companion,
A bit of chastity pulled down by the masked queries of a neighbour.
Stripped of the fallacious trappings of deceit and faithless hopes of illusion,
She emerged stronger, fought harder,
putting together the splintered pieces,
with the glue of grit and grace,
the pride of victory adorning the shadow of a heart-breaking smile;
the sparkle of joy illumining the dusk of her dim, extinguished eyes.
God created woman,
Society honoured her with the title of ‘Superwoman’,
as a deal to shield its insecurities and fears, flaws and blemishes, apathy and indifference.
The path from a woman to superwoman is a pyrrhic bargain,
The spotlight does not a superwoman make,
a tear shed in the darkest corner does,
The red carpet does not a superwoman make,
the black melancholy of despair does,
The frills of pomp and accolades do not a superwoman make,
a silent moment of introspection does,
Editing the soul does not a superwoman make, living in harmony with it does,
Superpowers do not a superwoman make, survival skills do.
A, superwoman is in no elusive race against time for time itself stands still to applaud her,
when she chooses to reward herself,
A superwoman is not a destination,
She’s a journey, an eternal quest for identity and self.
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