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Bedecked in finery, I await their arrival,

Ma Baba have their hopes pinned,

Looking forward to this rendezvous since girlhood,

I settle, as an exhibit, to pick and wield.


They size me up, from top to toe,

Beauty and fertility, virtues they desire.

My age, I discern is a thing of strife,

My wisdom in vain, I seem too mature.


Adapt will she, to our home and hearth?

Bear will she his sons, our lineage to last?


They express distrust, oh little do they know,

I’m nurtured and raised, so I bear fruit one day.

Readied for ages to lug all worldly load,

Strong and resilient, I am told to stay.


Nourish and procreate, as abundant as I can be,

Imbibing affront and ache come easy to me,

Because I am Stree…Dhara, Avni, ….Bhumi.


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