It was the first time,
But before it could actually sink in,
I was told to wash the red stained bed sheet, blanket and clothes,
With my sore and aching body,
I tried hard to make those stains vanish.
For a few days,
My bedroom was the secluded ‘period’ room,
With another set of secluded ‘period’ bedding,
I wasn’t allowed into the kitchen,
Or even into the temples,
Where most sinners found peace.
I had a happy time within those secluded walls,
I’d say luxurious (if we ignore the part of washing everything that I touched),
That time of the month where all those worn out things were again in use.
I couldn’t touch anything,
I couldn’t do anything,
I couldn’t interrupt,
For the sake of purity.
I wonder if they could consider it as vermillion at times.
So I went to the mall,
The only place I was allowed into,
Because nobody knew the inside story.
I was a first timer,
And hence the irresponsibility.
My friend constantly covered me from behind,
While I blabbered questions,
He didn’t say anything.
At home, seeing the red stain on my skirt.
I couldn’t stop smiling.
Tired and sleepy.
I went to bed.
As my day as a celebrity ends,
I planned how I am going to celebrate my daughter’s first day!
Maybe wrap her and cuddle her.
Editor: Divya Rosaline