What is a woman after all,
In a man’s hand she is just like a doll.
She does not have an identity of her own,
Full of pain is her life's sojourn.
Why does she have to live this life?
Only as a daughter, sister, mother or a wife.
Can’t she be independent, can’t she be free,
Getting rid of her sufferings, pain and agony.
Why is it that a woman always has to compromise?
To sustain relationships and ties.
One day she will have to come out of her shell,
So that the world can proudly tell,
"She is a woman and she is our pride,
She is the gift who lights up our life."
