Be a Human

I had smiled at the twins

The beautiful children I had borne

They had been covered in pink robes

That matched their skin tone.

My little twins had my eyes

Yet they both saw the world differently

My son loved the big fluffy monkey

My daughter loved the kangaroo and her baby.

Then came toys that weren’t living

Toys with wheels, toys with lights

Their strives to get to the best model 

Led to some noisy, violent fights.

At night, I would sit by their bedside

And listen to stories of their developing acumen

There would be pauses for my advice in some

Where I would suggest them to do what is human.

As my twins grew older

They looked more different from each other

My daughter’s body experienced changes

That differed her from her brother.

My daughter’s dresses fitted her curves perfectly

My son’s broad shoulders lifted his blazer flawlessly.

My daughter preferred to keep her eyebrows aligned

My son preferred to keep a beard on his jawline.

My twins were growing up into humans

Whom their mother was proud of

My girl was emerging into a debater

My boy was becoming an artist and painter.

There came a phase in my son’s life

When he faced a heartbreak

His sister wiped his tears for him

Every time he had an outbreak.

When he got angry with himself

For getting affected that way

His sister would remind him

What their mother used to say.

“Mother wanted us to become

More human with every passing day

And when humans face heartbreak

They all get affected this way.”

The broad shoulders and jawline beard 

Now adorned a fashion designer

The acclaimed school debater 

Grew up into an administrator.

My son fell in love with a woman

Who became a spine for his back

My daughter worked for her nation

And set her district on the right track.

Soon I got to see my little grand daughter

In robes that matched her skin tone

Her parents took leave from work

As they couldn’t leave her alone.

My son sat with his daughter 

And told her a story every day

Until one day he narrated a tale

That sounded quite astray.

“Long long ago, once upon a time

Girls and boys were not considered alike

Girls were asked to be soft or quiet

And only then would they become ‘lady-like’.

They were given vinyl toys to play with

Whom they dressed up, the way we dress you up

They weren’t sent out to play with friends

Were instead asked to cook like a grown up.

Boys of that time were strange too

They did not have clothes in shades of pink

They were told that they won’t become men if they cried

And their tears had to remain on the brink.”

When my son’s little daughter asked her father

“Why did they treat their girls and boys this way?”

He said,- “They were busy growing up to be men and ladies

And forgot to be human with every passing day.”