Body By Shirin Choudhary


There are new craters on my face:
My topography is changing.
I can trace new lines on my inner thighs
That I couldn’t a few months ago.
I try to tell myself
This is merely a part of growing up
And growing into the body of a woman.

Growing into the body of woman,
Woman growing into a body.

My geography is changing
And I am still looking for new codes
To understand how to map this


This landscape
Doesn’t play by old rules anymore.

Growing into the body of woman,
Growing out of it.

I have found a new Key to the map;
I know where to go now.

Growing into the body.
Not of woman anymore.

By Shirin Choudhary


Shirin is a young poet from New Delhi, India. She has recently begun thinking about her gender identity and expression through her poems. She is involved in the queer movement in her city, in the capacities of an artist, activist and a student.

2 thoughts on “Body By Shirin Choudhary

  1. Touched me. Men are just as…okay, probably more vain than women. I am 53 and I am so resentful that my body chooses now, when I finally begin to understand who “me” is, to abandon me to the hourglass and begin deconstruction.

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