The Metamorphosis…

To ask about how many times a person will choose to bleed will be vague… But to ask how many times a girl will bleed will be out of line!

She bleeds from the day she is born.
From the day she is named a woman.
From the day she becomes a mother.
And countless times thereafter—quietly,
at heart, for a lifetime.

Rarely does anyone ask whether there is still blood left in her veins to survive.

Many only know the Pupa and the butterfly, and the cycle of Metamorphosis still remains unknown.

Ayna too, is a trans embodiment of that Metamorphosis, from a pupa, who may have bled several times, who might have transformed into a butterfly, but for the lifetime of an eternity.

It was somewhere between her late teens and early twenties, that she bled and lost her consciousness for the first time.

Her cheeks still had a pink tint and her hair smelled of the Summer Gujarat lanes. It was at that time of her life, when she believed holding her kaku’s hand will keep all the dark spirits away as her mother said. Never did she imagine, she will be thrown away to the hollowness of such darkness.

It was the War of a Century, not yet glorified in the Pages of History. She was all red, covered in the blood of her dearest families, sitting helpless, staring at their lifeless bodies. From there, she was dragged up by them. They tore her clothes, ripped her soul and shattered her, again throwing her back into that blood soaked field.

Maybe she went blue and her veins became pale after that. But her heart still had a feeble beat.

Again , it was sometime during the blooming of a Love in her life, she bled for the second time.

Ayna was sitting with her dearest one , who officially became a part of her life, only a few days ago , somewhere along the vastness of Kashmir peaks.

They snatched him from her, shot him and he died, killing her for the second time.

The silence produced by the disappearance of that feeble heartbeat, she still had, was much louder than that gunshot.

And when it happened again, the whole world was watching, the still unbloomed buds of her soul , being plucked away. It was as clear as a night sky in Gaza. She was splashed in the blood of her unborn child in the womb. The warmth of her bosom was still in the chest of her child, punctured by Multiple bullets. All her little ones who went to the School, had their books marked with the blood of the most vicious cause.

Only after losing the last drop of blood in her soul, Ayna realised, the red around her was not because of the blood she dripped, but the red of Autonomy, Authority and Religion.

It was then she transformed into a butterfly. She might have lost the last drop of blood in her body, but what fueled her skin, flesh and bones was the newly found fire within her soul.

It melted her;But ignited her eyes fiercely.
The reflection of the flames from her pupil burned all the eyes that dared to judge her.

And she developed wings at last; Wings that were flame red..
Wings that could take her all around Kurukshethra without failing.

Ayna looked down the ground for one last time; to just roughly estimate the blood she was drained off and the souls she lost.

The she flew high, spread her wings of flame to burn down and rewrite every page of Autonomy, Authority and Religion; whatever caused her bloodshed.

A rainbow was faintly visible along the horizon she soared..

~Anjana B Murali~
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Anjana's Introduction : I am Anjana B Murali. A 2nd Year medico, who loves to scribble during free time. If you liked this please check my more works on Instagram (ID : @_still-spellbound, Personal id: anjanaa_b_)

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