Take off your clothes.
Every single piece of it.
From head to toe.
Remove your bright pink bindi, and relieve the pressure.
Open the pallu of your orange saree, and unburden your shoulders.
Unbutton your blouse, that has been holding it together.
Finally, pull that string, and let your petticoat take the fall.
Step away from it, and bare it all.
Walk towards the bathroom, drown yourself in the coldness of the water.
Soak in your bruises, just like the hope of a better future.
Let the water wash every inch of the noise that you have on your body.
Just like your insecurities.
Touch every inch of the body with soap, like you always wanted to be touched.
Cry, shout, scream. This time, willingly.
Wipe your body with care, just like you do for your tears.
Liberating? Isn’t it?
Step out, this time with more courage.
Don’t wear anything.
Stand in front of the mirror and look at yourself.
Fall in love with your body, befriend your almost dying soul.
Move your lips and say your name. The name, that not many know.
Wear the colour that you know, and that knows you.
Absorb that familiar feeling which no amount of colour can give.
Be nude. This time, by choice.