Not for the first time, I sit and wonder
what it would be like—
to be born in a world, or at least a home,
where women were simply
equal.

Where "allowed to work"
was never said.
Where mothers who work
don't carry the whole house
on tired, unthanked shoulders.

Where Sundays are soft for everyone,
where the sun rises in the east
for every single one of us.
Where daughters don’t have to
run interference,
smooth storms that were never theirs.

Where whoever wakes first
makes the morning tea,
no matter the hands or the name.
Where girls choose their clothes
like boys do,
with no second skin of shame.

Where words like feminist
would be meaningless—
because fairness would be breathing,
not battling.

But sadly, here we are.
Still told,
"men will be men,"
still watching women reduced
to a teacup on the table.

Still.
Just close your eyes.
Imagine:
a world where I would not
hate being born a girl.
A world
where things
would simply—
be.