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.

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