The Stare

Have you ever paid attention to the men?

Never mind men, have you seen boys how young

Yet confident they are when they talk

To a random stranger they come across on the walk?

I saw my little teddy bears, my brothers,

Grow into these, little teddy bears.

But they know how to talk with that ease

You know, casual, that upper hand voice

Even when you hear them say "please"

Of course not when they talk to me

But to that stranger on the walk

To whom they act confident and all.

Why to that stranger of them all

Would they act confident and all?

That strange stare of that stranger,

That stare like he was some kind of danger.

And that's when it struck me

All animals in any danger show possession and power

And confidence and all just like my bears.

They showed comfort every time they were scared.

They had no 'dopatta' around their breasts to adjust.

They had to learn to live broadening their chests.

Their deep voice never trembles when they're hurt

And God! All this is such a painful art.

They've always tried to be strong

Or they pretended so, all life long.

But the sweat on their forehead every time that stare

Of someone checking them out is always there.

Of course,

They cannot evoke the 'maa behen' respect in those animals

So they Man it up and Man it all

But being Man is not the solution to the confusion

Of whether a molester in all his frustration

Would always hunt a girl down

If you pay attention and look around.

For what I saw in the news things that happened in Kasur

And people posting stories with hashtag "Me Too"

Doesn't seem like anyone is safe

When such beasts are out untamed.

A week ago I read how a scholar

Well known for spiritual matters

Grabbed a young soul in his hands as it fluttered

In the back seat of a car. And then, it shattered.

They might have thrown him wingless after they were done.

And for rest of the life he will trust no one.

These young boys, these young souls, these young winged dreams

When they see someone looking at them like they are they feast

And they have this little courage to share or speak

Of what they go through. How they deal

with all this?

What if my little teddy bears have grown up

To grow enough to remain silent and never open up?

And may be

May be just like I roll my eyes or frown

Every time I sense danger around.

And just like I walk with my shoulders squeezing,

Curling into my body so it's not revealing any targets for them to hunt.

May be

Just like that my boys are "Confident" 

The Stare

- By Kayenat Hameed Khan

This poem was performed in PenWomen Workshop arranged by Young Women Writers' Forum in collaboration with "Ideas" and "Words and Metaphors".