The cage

They eulogise her in their living room debates

Endorse her as a role model, who never errs

When conversation thickens, they slyly profess

How they crafted the Durga from the ordinary clay


They dole out tips and tricks to the miracle

Quoting assiduously to their stunned circle

‘Mix six tablespoons each of scorn and criticism

Add a cup of guilt-tripping, and the spell is done’


They boast of the incantation, its magical effects

A bait at the ready to appropriate differences

How it moulds her into an ever-whirring machine

A Goddess donning myriad hats with equanimity


They proudly describe her versatile cape

Complete with an instruction manual, intricate

They hail a woman’s multi-tasking superpower

As she glides through, juggling multiple sphere


She wears the chef’s hat, catering to every whim

Adapts to the rebirth, as the baby is born

She focuses resolutely, in the onerous cubicle

Struggling to stay true to her multifarious roles


At the slightest slip, she’s judged and condemned

Her behaviour is measured with an insatiable gauge

‘Done poorly here, a terrible error there’ they adjudge

Administering ‘heaps of dedication and diligence’.


While they coldly dissect her blatant failures

Behind closed doors, she sheds long-withheld tears

She laments the years lost, the futile optimism

And longs to break free of the ‘superwoman’ prison.


Picture credit : Martin Adams (


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  1. Bravo Moonmoon darling. You have hit the nail on the head with this one. They put us on pedestals only so that we can crumble to pieces when we miss a step and fall. We are no ‘durgas’ we are regular human beings, why don’t they get that at all.
    ‘Whirring machines’ that leave us whining all the time.
    The Superwoman title is superfluous.
    Well done my dear.💚

  2. A very realistic picture of women eulogized on public stages and I’ll treated behind doors. Your piece is beyond compare in the way it depicts the hypocrisy that bind and shackle women. 💚💚💚

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