Since I was born, I heard from people,

You’re innocent, tender, delicate and feeble.

The stereotypically dispiriting notion made me ponder,

Why am I thought to be a vulnerable gender?

 

I got busy in life, I was shown,

Doing house chores, decorating my home.

Learning kneading fine dough and making perfect egg fry,

I grew up thirteen and never thought of touching the sky.

 

I got trendy outfits and added cosmetics to my makeup kit,

Primer, blush, brush, colourful lipsticks, and face tint.

Watching beauty hacks was much fun,

Cleansing, cuticle, cloning, getting my nails done.

 

Life was passing urging me to do something dignified,

And bring forth what yet I have not tried.

I explored my inner self when turned twenty-one,

And vowed to prove it wrong that ‘frailty thy name is women’.

 

A news like a big bang brought me a life transition,

With headline ‘Women are future of space exploration’.

Like the ray of sun mingled with mist of moon,

I have burned the midnight oil to win the fortune.

 

Like Valentina Tereshkova, Sally Ride, Mae Jemison, and Susan Helms,

I opt to be a part of the solar system, Milky Way, and space realms.

Roaming among the meteorites, planets, and stars,

Makes me praise Allah’s magnificent art.

 

The past of space exploration might be largely a male enterprise,

But the future is likely for the females to surprise.