And ties her hair like a bun.
Makes tea for everyone,
And coffee for her son.
Water her green plants,
while making the daily plans.
Does the dishes, maybe,
Regardless of her wishes.
Wraps a long piece of cloth around her,
In a way that only she knows how.
Clings on to the back seat of a scooter,
That would take years to master.
At office, its work,work and work.
Back home, its work again.
"It's midnight, let me sleep", she says.
She wakes up with the sun,
And ties her hair like a bun...
Yet they call her the 'average' Indian woman.