A seven-year-old girl stood up
In the midst of the council
She’s chubby faced,
With faint pink cheeks
And a curly hair
She asked the preacher a question
About life, family and cruelty
Quite prudent for a child, I said
I was looking at her, then my heart
Suddenly bleeds
As If a wound dehisced
From a forceful comeback

I saw my nine-year-old self
In a locked room, crying alone
Asking God the same questions
Why are some children mean to other children?
Will I ever get fair and slim?
How will I be accepted ?
All these years I've bagged these queries
That greatly affected my esteem
I felt that I was a fault in the universe
For being different and unpretty

But as years unfold, so as the answers
Life has thought me that I should
Not try to fit in some else’s box
And nurture the strength
That would make me feel alive
To have a bigger room in your heart
For patience and tolerance
And for parents, an extra compassion
For an ailing child
Let them breathe in someone else’s shoulder
If you cannot provide

Life was my teacher
I may not have heard about these before
But experiences geared me up
Towards understanding it
Though sometimes it is learned
The hardest and painful way
The life I’ve led and the preacher
Said the same things