She had several masks hanging from the wall,
Their faces, drooping;
Each perfect enough to impeccably cover her skull,
Characterized by age old lines;
Each line recounted a memory-
Told a story,
Horrible or sad,
Happiness or envy,
Horrific or mad,
Intimidation or just plain bad.
“Which one should I wear today?”, she resonated with the question;
The other day she was raped,
She wore the wrong mask;
She smiled as the cold unforgiving steel,
Pricked her navel,
She forgot to bring the mask of desperation and anger;
In an evenly mixed ratio-
A bad mistake on her part.
Or the mask she wore whenever somebody shamed her overbearing curves;
Or the one she wore
Whenever a beautiful stranger knocked on her door.
“A lone wolf or a midnight owl?”
“The mask of rebellion or darkness’s cowl?”
She touched each one of them, and decided
“Why not wear ‘herself’ today? For a change”
Why today, of all days, she decided to feel strange?
Soaking with sweat and uneasiness, she found it difficult
To be herself. After all the masks she wore;
She could not wear her own face any more.
Art- Reya Ahmed
Poem- Biswadeep
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Biswa Writes 