Women do not land
On the land of men
They observe the spreaded sky
From the window of their rooms.
They listen various sounds to differentiate...
Is it bird's song, noise of children or
Laughter of men.
Their tongues silent, but lips vibrate,
Their body speaks - " I need a space".
Cooking is my job, kitchen my room,
Bangles my choice, identity by groom.
The clay is wet, am i comfortable?
Where is my place....?
No problem, its adjustable.