Its not that we were poor
And we couldn’t afford
It’s the discrimination
That hurts me the most.
While my brother stood and chose
His toy red pushback car
I was told
that I could have my doll no more.
How I walked the footpath crestfallen and sad
Tear eyed ,angry feeling broken and sorry from within,
Walking the lane at chembur station
Looking at the toy kitchenwares
And boxes with dolls within,
Crying on my flight
For being born a girl
Who couldn’t fight
And see any more light.