What happens when we commodify and perfect beauty? It ceases to be human and is transformed into a mannequin, says Harinder, in this poem – exclusively for Different Truths.
She was born a moon-faced doll, And grew up into a maiden tall Everyone around her made a great fuss And she grew up picture-perfect, thus She was taught to walk with grace She used a beauty scrub on the face She was not given the freedom To go alone to the mart And a planned diet was made for her According to the diet chart She was asked to smile in a particular way And given instructions night and day Even if a lock of hair dared to touch her white skin It was punished and caught in a hairpin The mirror would call out her name It longed to have a good look at her While she looked at herself in its frame Over time, she looked like A painting on the wall Cold, heartless! She wouldn’t respond to a call She had feeling organs but on a silent mode And she had become as stiff as the cardboard She was delicate and thin with a perfect chin A lady who wanted to live like a woman But it was reduced to just a Mannequin.
Picture design by Anumita Roy, Different Truths