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Who Am I?

by Gargi Sidana


Image is of a mannequin's upper body with no arms. The mannequin has cracks all over with gold filled between.
Image credit: Simon Lee on Unsplash

Naphthalene balls soaked in the mind’s socket

Am I the wrong pair of chromosomes looming in the mother’s locket?

I reminiscence a faint memory of flushing away a filthy brocket

Mannequin breasts lie hidden under the crimson fabric,

Fabricated in the rosemary blossoms; coveted by the hawk

Pouring the red moon on their lips; everyone gawks with an urge to lick

Bottle gourd desire lies buried deep inside chiffon attire.

Facial nerves scream a little bit louder; exposing masculine hair

Countless eyes fixed like I am ghastly inhumane yearning to snare,

Strolling in murky streets, and scowling in the inner heat,

Not much whiteness on broad cheeks; not so much traction on a lot of iris tweeze

Who knows where to find tranquillity and how to wipe out this crisis?

We strive to seek love and endurance in people,

For uncivilised people like me.

Am I born to suffer, to persecute and shovel down from the cliff?

We are brought to segregate, nestle on filthy roads and succumb to bluffs.

Death comes like androgynes lurking to scoff at my oblong state,

Carrion beetles and crickets, flesh flies being a funeral for my corpse

Is this my unfathomable fate or destiny to live like a scapegoat?

Is this my foible wish to demand life just like you endure?

Or my naive, eccentric thought of giving them the authority to call humans.


***


Black and white photo of the author, Gargi Sidana.
Gargi Sidana



Gargi Sidana is a voracious reader and a skilled writer from India. Her poems were chosen for the OPA Anthology, Iceblink Literary Journal and Spillword Press.

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