"She, the Forgotten Sacred"

Once, the world bowed to her light.

She was Lakshmi—the laughter of life,

The grace that turned a house to home,

The warmth behind every striving heart.

She was Saraswati—the melody of wisdom,

Her words wove knowledge into being.

She was Parvati—power patient yet fierce,

Keeper of balance, breaker of chains unseen.

But as ages turned, something shifted—

Reverence hardened into restraint,

And the same hands that once adorned

Built walls around her name.

They said it was care to keep her safe,

But cages are golden even when kind.

From “beloved” she became “obedient,”

Her silence mistaken for divine.

Now, they speak of equality in terms of rights—

Of paychecks, places, and pride.

But is that the essence of our spirit,

Or only the echo of what was denied?

Our truth runs deeper than laws and lists,

Deeper than freedom declared by decree.

The feminine energy isn’t asking for permission—

She is remembering what she was meant to be.

Tell me then, you who fear her strength,

Why call her goddess, yet bind her soul?

Why worship Lakshmi, then quiet her laughter?

Why praise Saraswati, then mute her role?

Why sing to Parvati for grace and love,

Then break the heart of every girl she became?

A girl is not a pet to be tamed,

Not a script to rehearse before the crowd.

She is thunder wrapped in tenderness,

She is truth—unspoken yet loud.

She bleeds, she builds, she weeps, she wars,

Her power burns with gentle flame.

You may call her fragile, but remember—

The universe began when she was named.

Once, women were seen as divine — symbols of wisdom, grace, and strength. They were celebrated as Lakshmi, the goddess of prosperity; Saraswati, the goddess of knowledge; and Parvati, the goddess of power and balance. Their presence was the foundation of happiness and harmony in every home and society.

However, as time passed, this reverence turned into restriction. The hands that once respected women began to control them. Under the guise of protection and care, society began to limit their voices and choices. Love was replaced by obedience, and silence was mistaken for virtue. Women, once seen as sacred, were pushed into roles defined by submission and expectation.

Today, we talk about equality in terms of jobs, rights, and independence — and though that progress matters — the essence of femininity runs deeper. True empowerment is not just about competing for space but rediscovering the strength and dignity that have always existed within. The feminine spirit is not seeking permission from the world; she is remembering her own power.

The poem questions society’s hypocrisy — worshipping goddesses while silencing real women. It reminds us that a girl is not something to be controlled or shaped; she holds the same creative energy that gives life to the world. Her tenderness does not weaken her; it makes her strong in ways that go beyond measure.

Women are not fragile; they are forces of creation, courage, and compassion. The universe itself began with their energy. To honor them truly, society must not just praise them in stories but respect them in reality.

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