My Ceiling is Not Your Son's Playground

A poem about the different expectations we keep for girls and boys in the same family.

Sreenivasan Jain

A poem about the different expectations we keep for girls and boys in the same family.

Next time, when you call me back home before 11 at night, make sure he is not getting ready to leave the house at the same time.

When you start to save up for my big fat wedding, make sure you don’t have another set of savings for his MBA abroad.

Next time you ask me to pull up my blouse and put my knees together, make sure you also ask him to mind his gaze, his dick, his business.

Next time you ask me if I am a virgin, make sure you have not smugly justified the condoms you found tucked away in his closet.

Next time you ask me to slow down in my career, or I might intimidate him, make sure you are not boasting about his next promotion on your Whatsapp groups.

Don’t slow him down but if I wish to run faster, laugh louder, jump higher, make sure that my ceiling is not his playground.

Anahita Mehra is a public policy researcher and currently pursuing law from Faculty of Law, Delhi University. She tweets @anahita_mehra.

Featured image credit: Jon Tyson/Unsplash

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