Its All About Menstruation

By Pooja Jain

That hard-nosed malady in the gut.

The apathy in the knees.

Cramps and twinges one by one.

Temple camouflaged with string of exudation.

Soreness, ants in pants, vehemence and feebleness.

What was it? Was it a period?

Were it to eventualize for the rest of my impulse?

Every week or for every month?

The painful bleeding I never knew or felt before.

A restraint, red tape and merely an isolation.

Menstruation, rebirth of my vagina.

The origination of my womanliness.

Outpouring of rapacious river which waited to burst out.

That chickenheartedness of black eye on clothes.

The distraction of what everyone would say.

One more reason to be vilefied.

One more apprehension to be sidelined.

One more accumen to be outcasted.

One more comprehension to be held back.

One more speculation to be cautioned.

The dynamics of the house would change completely.

The super-excellent woman would suddenly change into godawful

woman.

Transmutation from plenary into profaned woman.

Approaching in the kitchenette not welcomed happily.

Pigging out food in solitary.

Taking food inside the kitchen is considered an offense that too your

touched one.

Facet when you cannot grope anything

Juncture when you cannot hibernate together.

State when palpating money is considered a substandard mortal sin.

Aspect when nudging pickles , making papad or papadum will corrode

and putrified them.

The point when a woman bleeds even her inner recesses of heart

bleeds.

The phase in woman’s lives where no one pop the question about the

inclinations and provisions meant for us.

Pronouncing about periods and carrying pads openly is considered a

skeleton in cupboard .

Woman didn’t expect anything souped-up.

Everyone consider menstruation a messy, muddy and murky topic .

A dreggy issue to be talked about or discussed openly.

That subterranean line drawn at quarter, mosque, church, pagoda and

shrine.

Grouping amongst who bleeds from those who don’t.

Detaching the unalloyed from the alloyed ones.

Failing recognizance and ratification.

So many falls have breezed in and turned to dust.

All lefting a mark on woman .

But the camaraderie is not meant to change with so many ages gone

and still going.

Woman have waited for a change respite from the pain.

So, dear general public and rat race please surmise and presume if a

woman doesn’t bleed than how on earth human race will exist and be

extant.

By Pooja Jain