I was born on a stormy night,

Soaked in blood from outside

But devoid of blood from inside.

Doctor thought, I will not survive the night

But the night did not last long

And, I survived.

I was brought home through dusty road,

Drenched from last night’s rains.

Papa thought, I will have discomfort in rickshaw ride

But the discomfort happened to my family.

Some fretted over a second girl child,

While others prophesied for the third one.

In the hassle of speculations,

I grew up side by side.

Time oscillated between spring and autumn

And, paradoxes transformed to quotidian.

Now,

Prayers were chanted and rites were repeated

At places of worship to seek blessings.

My destiny was read again and again

In a corner of the astrologer’s room.

Stones and amulets were passed to me

To remove even the speckle of adversity.

And,

That day at the back of my head

In the crowded spaces,

I found my silver lining

Far away from the Gods and Demons

In the pen and paper.

Thereof,

I picked my pointed Reynolds

To tell the world that I live a life of anomalies.

After all,

I thought what difference does it make

In an unclaimed territories

For a child of paradox

To narrate some of them.