Invisible Label

There seems to be a label on me & every female born.


It probably says :

Serving Tips :

  1. Look for a fair, slim pack for better taste.
  2. Best served virgin with seasoning of “modest” clothing and some gold.
  3. Store hidden from concepts of feminism, common-sense, freedom, independence and high self-worth.
  4. Do not educate or let think too much.
Shake well before use to ensure all bubbles of rebellion escape.

Shelf life : Best consumed before 28 years of age.

Warning : Do not buy if package is bloated with individualistic opinions & self-confidence.

Disposal instructions : Punch repeatedly with “your life is spoilt now” needle till all self-esteem ebbs away, wrap in sheets of “dishonor to family” and hang high as example of rotten product specimen for a while before discarding in trash bin.

Only.. I can not see it.. & refuse to see it.



Others introduce me as..

… “my daughter”

… “my friend”

… “my student”

quickly followed by..

… “she is doing her PhD”

To the world, my career defines my identity!

To me?

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