Bad Blood?

-28 lines of pensive thinking on the 28-day cycle.

Someone, please explain to me,

Why do you bedeck me in the family’s most treasured woven sarees and trinkets
And drench me in your blessings and your presents,
Only to tell me that I will now be declared as impure for the next five days
And to steer clear of the Lord’s abode or the proximity of my very own father?

Imagine a world where people cherished menstruation all through a girls journey
Into her every step of her womanhood
As much as the false facade they pin to this frivolous thing they call
The ‘manjal neerattu vizha’.

If you’d ask me I’d say,
A woman’s period shouldn’t have any form of existence at all in Euphemism’s vocabulary.

I wish to see the light of a day when,
I don’t have to guard the blood stain on the back of my pants with my life.
When girls can exchange sanitary napkins like the hum-drum items they ought to be treated as,
Without having to whisper and transact or
Having to inconspicuously slip them into one another’s bags.

I wish to live through a day when,
The sign of a woman bleeding is considered as beautiful and effeminate,
As her jet black hair that cascades down her shoulders, her bosom and all the way to her navel;
As the faint tinkle of a thin golden anklet that perfectly crowns her petite ankles.

Have you ever witnessed the joy on an expectant mother’s face,
When she finally gets around to buying that rosewood crib for her baby-to-be to sleep in,
And how she makes sure the linen on the crib is the finest of the finest?
….
See the parallelism yet?

Don’t build us a shrine or colour the Brahmaputra red
In a futile attempt to celebrate menstruation or motherhood,
But spare us of your impaired judgment, and just let us bleed.

Period.

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