Inspired by the movie „Gangubai Kathiawadi” directed by Sanjay Leela Bhansali (2022) with Alia Bhatt playing the character of Gangubai Kathiawadi
Picture taken from Pinterestposted by the user alia bhatt
The poem contains spoilers from the movie
I go by with many names,
I was many women, and they were all me
A soul so hurt by this word called love
Decietful, hurtful, painful.
I was Ganga,
A girl so happy,
So in love,
So naive.
I danced garba, when my lover
Told me stories about my future
Opportunity arose for me to become and actress
In Bombay, the capital of acting
So we went, I ran from home,
Only to end up left alone,
In a brothel sold by him
By my love, my soul, my light.
I was hurt, betrayed and in pain
I refused to sit again
I cried and cried myself to sleep
Only to be awoke like a sheep.
The owner threatened
That I needed to get over,
She manipulated me
And used my own weaknesses
Making me understand that I had no other option,
So I pulled myself together
And I learnt the art of seduction.
When my first transaction
Earned me some money,
I handed her part of my pay,
Officially becoming Gangu.
I was denying,
I was lying to myself,
That all would be better, And I will escape this hell,
But that faithful day I learned,
When I got burned
By a man’s hand
And almost died if not for my didis
That I cannot escape this life
My destiny now sealed with a knife
That cut deep into my heart
But made me realize the beauty and art
Of how important is that I’m alive.
So I went and sought an ally,
Karim Lala who was a don,
Leader of the underground,
Known by few and feared by all,
And helped me punish the man that hurt
My pride, my body and my life.
That day I was known between my sisters
As a protector and as a witness
Of the dirty and the low,
Of their rights that were so few.
As their day was all relaxed,
The maa of the brothel died,
All the girls that called me didi,
Now were begging me to be the lady,
The mother of the brothel
The mother of all girls,
That were destined to a life so worse.
And that day I had become
Gangubai the protector,
The one that helped
The girls of Kamathipura.
Their future and their right I defended
And for them I fought and fought
With time becoming an image
With safed sarees and laal bindi.
Once a man so kind and sweet,
The only one I’ve ever met,
Who managed to sneak into my heart of stone
And made it bloom into a garden of flowers,
That smelled so beautiful ,
And were so colorful,
That for the first time in a whole long while
I was happy and in love.
It was a silent, soft one
With comforting touches and playful games,
Oh my meri jaan
I love you so much,
That I could die for your heart,
Through your kindness and your understanding
You helped me feel again
A thing that I did not
Since I came to my new home,
Oh jab saiyaan
How I love you so, so much.
He brought me a set of sarees,
And asked me why I wanted white,
Because they all look the same,
They all feel the same.
Then I told him,
That even white has it’s nuances,
Has it’s story and origin
In the nature and in us,
White as a pigeon, white as a swan
White as the smoke
White as the sun,
White as oppression
White as power,
Each shade has it’s story and it’s tale,
And he suggested to me,
To pick the shade of white,
That resembled me the most,
White as the sunlight.
In his eyes,
There’s nothing purer than my whiteness,
As this is a world as dark as I am white.
He was the only one that understood,
My white as a hidden pain,
A streak of red, as blood, and warm as unmet love
That lingered deep inside my soul,
Without a way to come to the top
In a world where I was wronged
But from the need, I adapted to be
The one that cared for each being
With strenght and determination,
With resilience and good intentions.
But my love was never meant to be,
Because my heart is destined to be smashed,
Into pieces every time.
I let my heart be vulnerable
And the garden that so carefully bloomed
Is squashed by the rocks that I had to pull,
Back from the depths to not let myself fall
Into broken pieces and crumble at the feet
Of the patriarchy that undermined my girls.
So I forced a child to get married to my love
To let her escape the life of a prostitute
I crossed my heart and let it sink
Just so I could save one of my kids.
It was the first wedding that took place in Kamathipura
That boosted my popularity
And increased the chances of my winning
The election for mayor of the zone,
The red district where my life is always so torn.
Before the election we also celebrated with garba and music and danced dholida,
Through which my heart finally let loose,
Of all the pieces that were glued together
And I cried until I drop unconscious form the alcohol.
When the election finally arrived
I was chosen mayor
And I gave a speech that was so thoughtful
And encouraging to all the woman
Because when we are the three united
Intelligence, power and wealth
Why do men find in their ego
And think of us as less.
Kamli my closest friend
Was pregnant when I became mayor
And when she gave birth she died so short
We, her sisters cried at her side
For losing a life and gaining another
So when we prepared her,
To be cremated in the morning,
We tied her legs so tight with ropes,
Because men cannot be trusted even with a dead corpse.
I wanted to send my girls to school,
To save them from my life,
My sisters lives,
Our women lives,
And the principal asked for names,
All of them are under my name, Gangubai’s name,
But he still demanded,
A name for the father.
I point dissapointed that a mother’s name is not enough
Even if she sold her soul to give her girl,
A life that their foolish fathers,
Don’t even have the guts to offer.
Finally they were accepted,
And I wanted to speak to someone,
Once close to my heart,
My babu, my amma,
But when I called them,
The line told me I had one minute,
To tell them about what had happened
In the last 10 years.
My amma responded, with a bitter tone,
That she did not want to talk to me,
My father is dead and so am I to her.
I wished to tell her everything,
To tell her how stupid I was,
To tell her what I have been through,
To ask for her forgivness,
To ask her to see her again,
But the call quickly ended,
And I was left crying,
Not even being able to mourn the loss
Of my father and my family,
Once so close to me, now a distant past.
A past so warm and innocent,
That makes me laugh
At how foolish and stubborn I was.
If I knew then, what I know know,
I would not have went with him,
And I would have stayed with my parents.
But this past gave me hope,
The only thing that made me strong,
In this world so cruel and wrong,
The hope that one day,
I can offer my girls the same
Life that I had when I was young,
Full of happiness and empty of worries.
I pulled some ropes,
I talked with some people,
And I managed to get a hearing,
With the prime minister,
Where I pled my case,
And persuaded him,
To give more rights to women like me,
That had, has or will have my life.
He hardly accepted,
But indeed he agreed,
On my conditions and on my cause.
This lead to an interview,
In front of writers,
Form all around India
That asked me triggering questions
Or mocked me openly,
But I swiftly closed their mouths,
An answer took form,
From the deepest parts of my soul
That left the people and the country
Shocked and motivated to the core
Until now, some have taken me away,
And some have sold me.
But from tomorrow, no one will be able to take me away,
And no one will be able to sell me.
We, too, have sacrificed for this country;
We are also human.
We also have dreams. People need to understand this.
We didn’t choose this work out of desire;
It was compulsion.
They applauded me and they cheered me,
For being brave enough to speak my mind,
In a place where patriarchy is still so ever present,
A matriarch decided to fight,
To make room for the maidens, mothers and crones,
To fight for rights of women who had her life,
To fight for the rights of prostitutes,
So that they would stop being seen,
With such bad eyes,
That even their girls would be bullied,
For having such mothers and living such lives.
As I always said,
This is not a life we chose,
But a life that chose us. We have more dignity because we sell it every night,
For the men that can’t stop coming at us.
But that doesn’t give them the right,
To slap and rape and kill us,
To shoo us from the streets,
To destroy our lives because we’re prostitutes.
When I came back,
Kamathipura cheered my luck,
My speech left them swooned,
My words imprinted in their soul,
In their minds and in their actions.
The people organized a parade,
To celebrate my feat,
For womanhood and the people of Kamathipura,
Managing to change the reputation of the place
Form the red zone district
To so much more.
White rose petals flew in the air,
As I stood on the moving platform,
Being cheered and celebrated,
My dear love happily with the girl I married him,
My rival for the mayor smiling at my achievement,
Our rivalry stopping once she saw how I fought,
For our people, for our girls.
I am Gangubai the Mafia Queen
As you may know me,
I also am Gangubai of Kathiawadi, the place I dedicated my life helping,
I also am Gangubai the Protector, as my didis and girls call me.
I go by many names,
But I am the image of a queen,
In safed sarees and big laal bindi,
Fighting for woman and for prostitutes like me.
Love has not been kind to me,
One trading me for money and one I have traded for the safety of my family,
Men call me the loveless one,
Because I cannot love and in their eyes,
I am as cruel as I am powerful.
Loveless, yes, but not in the way they see,
Because to have loved and lost it
Is better that to have never loved at all.
I am loveless, but not because I cannot love
I am loveless because I loved too hard and I always got hurt.
Women call me the helpess one,
Because they understand my pain and loss,
There is no ishq for prostitutes, but only hope,
That someday our lives will be better.
The pyaar that keep us close is special,
It’s a feeling I cannot understand,
And maybe I don’t need to understand it
To know that they are always close to me.
The poem was being written while listening to the songs: „Dholida”, „Jab saiyaan”, „Jhume re Gori”, „Muskurahat”