I am Laxmi,
You worship for wealth,
I am Saraswati,
The goddess of knowledge,
I am Mohini,
Worshipped for beauty,
For the grace of my steps,
The curves of my waist,
And for the radiant smile.
I am Shakti,
The half of you,
Carrying the seeds,
The source of life.
I am Ganga,
The chaste and pure,
You take a dip in,
For washing away your sins,
And I am Durga,
The caring and kind,
The mother, protecting her child.
But,
I am the prostitute,
You pay for my body,
The young daughter,
You sell for money,
The wife,
Burnt for dowry,
While you watch it happen,
Standing in the corner quietly.
I am the little girl,
Confined in a room,
Scrubbing the soot-stained stove,
With crushed hopes,
And murdered dreams.
I am the woman,
Whom you dearly loved,
Lying with the face half burnt,
By the acid you threw,
And I am the naked girl,
Found on the streets,
With organs pulled out,
Bleeding to death,
I am the unborn child,
Killed in the womb,
And you can guess the reason why.
I am the woman,
Being groped in public,
By your filthy hands,
And I am the little girl,
Crouching in fear,
Everytime I see your face.
But,
I am Laxmi,
I will walk out anytime,
You displease me.
I am Saraswati,
Who conquers the universe,
Destroying your misogynist world.
I am Mohini,
With same radiant smile,
The curves of my waist,
The grace of my steps,
And with the beautiful half burnt face.
I am Shakti,
Dancing in rage,
Burning in anger,
Destroying things I touch,
Irresistible and unstoppable.
I am Ganga,
Drowning you forever,
Along with your existence,
In my fierce waves,
And I am Durga,
Who turned into Kali,
Slaying the demons,
Who kept multiplying,
Devouring their blood,
And wearing a necklace of their skulls.
For I am a girl,
For I am a woman,
For I am one of the,
Angry Indian Goddesses.
©miss_lost_soul