Make Up

You see that lady?

Beautiful,

But masked with layers

Of makeup!

That thick foundation

Of secularism and equality

Over that Intolerant face of hers.

Correcting the flaws of culture,

Lies the concealer of hypocrisy.

Then a little blush, 

To sparkle with dignity,

Hiding the patriarchy.

How do I forget the lipstick?

Red, to hide the blood

Spewed over rape and hatred.

A little mascara over the lashes

That blink silently, denying any clashes

And lastly, eye shadows

To make her look attractive

The sorrow beneath,

Hidden, kept very secretive

That beautiful lady,

Dear people?

She is who I call my mother... India

A mother, waiting to be discovered

To be rescued...