Siddhi is pursuing a graduation degree in Mass communication from IP College for Women, Delhi University. She is the Secretary of the Women Development Cell in her college. The composition is an interpretative account of how sexualized and subjugated a Modern Working women feels.
I find pleasure in the churning of my stomach due to skipped meals, I’m thin.
In the sweet ache of my thigh muscles when the treadmill mark crosses the required, I’m fit.
In the marks my a-little-too-tight bra straps leave, I’m 36-24-36.
I find pleasure when the heels bite into my toes, they make me sexy.
When the hot wax almost burns my skin, and when the despicable body hair are torn off my body, I’m still babylike.
I find pleasure in rubbing my dry, red eyes after pulling an all-nighter, I’m hardworking.
In the burns my kitchen vessels leave on the insides of my hand, or are they badges of patriarchal honor?
In the tightening of my back muscles, I had to bend over the laptop for a little too long, I strive to have-it-all.
In the accidental brushes against and sly smiles of my boss, I’m attractive.
I find pleasure in the cries of my offspring, which I wouldn’t admit were deafening, I’m sarvaguna sampanna.
In the forced hickey (read: love bite) my husband gave, an ideal wife.
I find pleasure when the silk dupatta I adored, gags my throat, the same throat which let a paraya tongue into it.
I find pleasure in death, more than I could ever in life.