Sunita

Sunita walks proudly through the village of Jarel. She has places to go, people to see. She reaches out to point somewhere, quietly yells at someone and grabs the long dark-brown braid that follows the curve of her back.
When she moves, you hear her coming. Her husky voice reassures you somehow that there's a menaing to everything. Nothing to worry about.The determined look in her eye tells me that hers is a spirit of victory and fragility, a perfect paradox of intricate humanity.
She is painfully aware of her circumstances; she lives a life constructed for someone much older than her, much more subdued, much less alive than her. She calls me over in the morning. I imagine her words meaning "come look what I'm doing". Though I lack the understanding of her actual words, there is a clear meaning to all that is between us. The tone of her voice says "come, give me strength to fight just one more battle, get through one more day; you made yesterday just bearable, spare me one more..."
And everyday, I grant it to her. I make no effort to hide my admiration fo rher; I hold her hand and listen to her talk. All I understand from our conversations is that her spirit is being tested - by her own community and the world beyond it. The "chalk police" which she bravely stands up to when they roam aimlessly around the village, sticks swung ready and eyes deliberately ignoring the humanity that is right before them.
Sunita gives her life in exchange for some dignity; she takes the beatings and the abuse simply because it is hers to bare. She carries a wild child in her chest, one that has never lived. The righteousness of her straight back never succumbs, she never breaks in the face of her everyday humiliation. Her defeat shows only in her footsteps which call out to me - "forgive us anything for we are nothing. Stay with us..." Her utlimate vulnerability shows only in the refelction of mine. She starves for my affection, my approval, as I crave hers.
In the end, the hardest part of my goodbye was revealing her naked truth in the midst of her peers. Her dreams and aspirations I had to speak out loud if I wanted the chance to say them at all. The hardest part was unveiling her to the others the way I had always thought she would do herself. It was the hardest part because only then did I realise that she couldn't do it on her own. And then I left.

When I think back now, I remember her like this...

Pretty women wonder
where my secret lies
I'm not cute or built to suit
a fashion model's size
But when I start to tell them
They think I'm telling lies
I say,
It's in the reach of my arms,
The span of my hips,
The stride of my steps,
The curl of my lips.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me

I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
It's in the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing of my waist,
And the joy of my feet.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me

Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can't touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them,
They say they still can't see.
I say,
It's in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me

Now you understand
Just why my head's not bowed.
I don't shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing,
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It's in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
The palm of my hand,
The need for my care.
'Cause I'm a woman
Phenomenally. P
henomenal woman,
That's me

"Phenomenal woman" by Maya Angelou