My birth was an ill-fated ugliness

Published: April 1, 2018
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Now that I have accepted my identity, Respect is not part of my priority. PHOTO: SHUTTERSTOCK

The kiss from the scorching sun was now a routine,

For there was no shelter that could block it from me;

Ugliness not just defined my face,

As my birth was no less than an ugly fate.

 

Amidst the chaotic environment, I was trained,

And repeatedly told that it was no shame,

Because survival on your own is something only the bold can do,

And if I resist, then society would crumple me, like a toy of play dough.

 

The countless tears I hid silently,

Were considered useless and unworthy.

The smile I gave with a one clap gesture,

Had unknowingly become my unique signature.

 

A thick coat of red lipstick and cheap face powder,

Sufficed to invite countless ridicules and sneers;

The hoots, whistles and curses from passers-by,

Came with the package that used to make me cry.

 

Now that I have accepted my identity,

Respect is not part of my priority;

I do the forbidden with a lot of bitterness,

Because I am a transgender; an ill-fated ugliness.

Tuba Faizan

Tuba Faizan

Pursuing a degree in electronic engineering from NED University of Engineering and Technology. An ardent writer, reader and a keen observer. Dan Brown and Khalid Hosseini never fail to inspire her. Apart from playing with circuits, she regularly blogs at tubafaizan.wordpress.com/

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