Ashes of equality

women empowerment, they say

women at the wheel, equals in every way

but are we really?

then why does fire still consume her body for money?

why is her birth celebrated with hollow smiles,

while a boy’s birth carries pride for these pseudo-feminists?

why must she build a house that never feels hers,

where she is an outsider, until her soul splinters?

why must marriage feel like a sudden job,

where she is expected to grow up overnight,

without ever being asked who she is inside?

why is her body still bruised by men

who claim violence as their birthright?

why is she, who runs the home with her hands,

treated as untouchable

for the simple rhythm of her blood,

as though nature itself made her guilty?

and after all this,

men stand tall and proclaim sacrifice.

well, well—

if education in this land means only ink on pages,

what good is it,

when empathy, respect and dignity

remain foreign to its heart?

and then you hear

a woman burnt alive by a man.

and you wonder:

demon and saint, both live within us,

but how can a hand that holds love

also strike with fire?