Beautiful women
have cracked fingers and feet,
they stink of cow dung
reek of spices and salty sweat
because they have to return to work
right after they’ve showered–
twice a day.
They slog in the fields through pregnancies,
birth children anywhere with little help
and breastfeed their children
which is but natural for them.

Beautiful women don’t freak out
seeing the first grey hair
and the first wrinkle,
they enjoy decorating themselves
not as means
but to an end in itself;
they look quickly in the mirror
after the day’s work
and sometimes forget even that.

Beautiful women fly planes,
run political offices, teach,
do business,
become medical practitioners,
play all sports and games,
reach mountain tops,
and the Moon.
They think of men
as people possessing different bodies;
they do not try hard
or use cheap tactics to snare them.
Comfortable in their skin
they understand the language of love
and enjoy the company
of men they choose
as partners in life.

Beautiful women question
and answer
first to themselves
and then to the world
soberly but sternly
that it is not their fault
if marriage didn’t happen to them
if they only had one child
if they only had daughters
if after many procedures they could not bear children
if adoption is their first choice
if the husbands left them
for other women
if they were busy doing other good things
than cooking and knitting
if they want to be monks.

Beautiful women
are friends to other women,
they have a code
which they can access
each time there’s
a danger alert.
I will tell you
that one of them
is to throw
powdered-red-hot-chilli-peppers
in the Devil’s eyes.

(The sketch is made with pen and crayons on a hot-pressed paper)