Down The Memory Lane

Going down the memory lane,

It all gushes back.

The books tucked behind the shelves,

Hidden, saved from the accusing eyes.

The hours spent with the dishes,

A spoon in hand. No pen.

The wolfish stares of a hundred men.

The hands of society, always holding back.

The chains I fought so hard to break,

Changing shapes with changing time-

The father, the husband and now the son.

The tears – bitter, but never ever weak.

The battles fought for a good chance in life.

The walls, the hurdles, big and small.

But down the memory lane,

Some things do not change –

The smile that does not waver,

The hands that do not shake,

The spirit that cannot be dampened,

The soul that will not be crushed.

Then, now and tomorrow, my voice remains,

I am a woman and proud to be.