{"id":274,"date":"2022-09-20T11:18:05","date_gmt":"2022-09-20T15:18:05","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/pensivejournal.com\/?p=274"},"modified":"2022-09-20T11:18:05","modified_gmt":"2022-09-20T15:18:05","slug":"this-is-india-and-good-girls-do-as-we-say","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/pensivejournal.com\/poetry\/this-is-india-and-good-girls-do-as-we-say\/","title":{"rendered":"This is India and Good Girls Do As We Say"},"content":{"rendered":"
The hair tie wound around my finger
\nSmells of stale biscuit, dried sweat,
\nTears, and aged musty fibre;
\nAnd I cradle a pair of scissors, its blade
\nReflecting the harsh yellow light of
\nThe bathroom bulb above my head.<\/p>\n
I listen; How old is she?<\/em> Oh, she loves to sing and write, they boast.<\/em> But I don\u2019t want to go to another family; My finger-tip pales and whitens, It is for your own good, my gentle girl \u2014<\/em> The hair tie wound around my finger Smells of stale biscuit, dried sweat, Tears, and aged musty fibre; And I cradle a pair of scissors, its blade Reflecting the harsh yellow light of The bathroom bulb above my head. I listen; How old is she? My left shoulder feels the shadow of goosebumps, The hair…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":28,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"issue":[7],"coauthors":[],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\n
\nMy left shoulder feels the shadow of goosebumps,
\nThe hair standing on end, charged
\nWith dreadful anticipation of what is to be.
\nShe is a responsibility, with the family
\nAnxious to barter her to another.<\/p>\n
\nShe has long vantablack locks, is quite fit.<\/em>
\nis 5 feet 7 inches of beauty and grace;<\/em>
\nYou really will love her hair, you know?<\/em>
\nShe is very talented, just graduated,<\/em>
\nand holds a day job. Good income, they say;<\/em>
\nAnd she would be perfect for your family.<\/em><\/p>\n
\nI don\u2019t want to be married to another.
\nI want to dream, and think, and be free,
\nthe girl in the mirror says to me.
\nIt is for your own good, they sweetly reply;<\/em>
\nYou\u2019re perfectly trapped; you must obey;<\/em>
\nThis is India, and good girls do as we say.<\/em><\/p>\n
\nAs the hair tie around my pinkie tightens
\nLike a noose, like a chain, like a wedding ring.
\nAnd I taste perfect unfreedom like bile
\nRising in my throat, my stomach turning,
\nthe bright bulb blinding my smarting eye,
\nAs I grip the wash basin till my knuckles turn white.<\/p>\n
\nEchoes the voice of the household
\nAs they play with my hair, smiling sweetly.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"