Women, fighting hate.
Wee men, spreading hate.
Social justice warriors all thronging online,
Frightened trolls spewing vitriol so malign,
It makes you wonder,
Exactly how scared are they?
And yet, I cannot help myself.
A memory comes to mind unbidden.
Unfettered woman, she was not.
Educated, ‘modern’, liberal,
All these also, she was not.
But fine skills did she possess.
Niece after niece would beseech,
For her to adorn their hand with patterns.
One, an F1 fan, said in terms of henna,
Her aunt was akin to her one god, Senna.
And yet her daughter did not deign,
To appreciate her mother’s designs.
Too busy she was, freeing others.
The daughter waged war online,
To take down chauvinistic pigs,
And to secure new digs.
She was going abroad, you see.
In Gender Studies, she would major.
After years abroad, she returned home again.
Draped in Gucci, wearing Armani, her bag was now a Fendi.
She was taken aback by the sight,
Of her old home, made anew, a school in the art of Mehndi.
Tired she was, after the flight,
Her mother welcomed her back.
Explained to the daughter, the mother did.
About the entrepreneur nephew,
Who was fascinated by her skills.
And along with investors a few,
Paid away all of the bills.
And thus was born The Mehndi Academy.
So maybe type and click a little less,
And help those around you,
Who may even be family.
It’s easy to whine and complain,
Harder still to accept and change.
The narrative today remains unaltered though.
Women, fighting hate.
Wee men, spreading hate.
However, why not fight a common foe?
The people doing wrong now,
Are sure to die out.
Forget them, and focus on those they leave behind.
It’s important you see, that they know
The importance of being free.
Even if through a bit of mehndi
. . .
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