“Why are you touching it?” cried Ma from afar.

She came hurriedly to the altar

And snatched the idol from me.

“Don’t you know?

Bleeding women can’t touch God.

Bleeding women are considered unholy.”

That made me think-

This wasn’t the first time I heard the word

It was echoed at cousin Rita’s wedding.

They blamed her

For not bleeding on the wedding night

And cursed her for the unholiness spreading.

Which reminds me- not very long ago

I had offered alms to a woman

And shaken her hand when Baba pulled me back.

“These aren’t real women!” he cried.

“These are just men dressed up.

Don’t ever touch anyone from this unholy pack!”

And only yesterday

We cremated my sister who died

From the grief of bearing an unholy daughter.

Her in-laws blamed her

For being unable to gift them a son

They simply couldn’t put their family name up for slaughter.

I realized I had been lost for some time.

So I handed the idol back to Ma

And asked her to look at me.

"Don't you know?

Bleeding or not-no matter who we are

We women were born unholy."