A Yogini

I am seeing it all and it is so strange. They are undressing him. They are doing something I haven’t ever seen.
What are they doing is the question? I have no idea. Such is life; I should not be emotional, else I will break down right here.
I should not have come here to see what has always been prohibited in for my gender.
“Take her away, girls will break down if they see this”, Baba had yelled and Ma had hurriedly covered my eyes with her hand. I hadn’t seen anything expect fumes from the spaces between my mum’s fingers. The smell had been bad; subsequently, I had collapsed.
I should not have come here to see this. What if I collapse again? Who will take care of me?
I am a brave woman now. I should face this. I should be like the sun and the rivers; I should live life without collapsing again.
A faint smell of vodka, I love vodka now. I have become used to it and don’t feel the shame anymore. When you have nothing, you have nothing to worry about. No, I am not losing. I won’t lose. I will hold on tightly, stop and fight with those on my way. I can’t lose at any cost.
“Om Nama Shivaya”, the yogi in black is chanting. Why has he worn such a dreadful dress?