I am myself but yet defined
By the classes I put myself into
When I fill in blanks onto forms,
Stating religion, gender, field, and
I don’t shy away because
It makes me and
I am it-
A representative. Of sorts.
I am a Science student
Who runs a poetry blog,
The tentative smile to the pujari across from Sion station
Whilst also adjusting my head scarf,
I am that who when dons a burqa; goes our of her way to offer help because
I am but a representative and
There’s misrepresentation enough.
And my face usually, clear I keep but
I deck up when on a pedestal I have to be
Because beautification doesn’t make me and my kind weak and
Beauty and brain is not a dichotomy and
Though silly, irrational, pointless to some this may seem,
I will do all of this because
Every living minute of my day, I am a representative.
A representative of sorts; trying, struggling, loving, being
A breaker of norms.