Make Up

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“It’s alright,” she said,

Concealing her bruises with foundation.

 

“Am fine,” she said,

Gracefully lining her puffed eyelids.

 

“All good,” she said

Applying lipstick on her trembling wounded lips

 

“Not bad,” she said

Dabbing blush on her listless haggard face.

 

“Am okay”, she said

Wiping a lone tear before it rolled down her cheeks.

 

This was her daily routine- a beguile

Hiding her strifes, she would smile.

 

One more blow, one more slap till she was sore

And she could bear it no more.

 

Her woman power she unleashed,

Her fears she vanquished.

 

And in her billowing saree bid an adieu

To the manipulative aristocratic milieu.

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