Yes, yes, we are celebrating women.
Everyday when we wake up and line our eyes with kohl, we are celebrating our eyes; draping ourselves in colored fabrics, celebrating our curves; washing our hair to shine those tresses, we are celebrating what the poets call ‘zalim gesuon’ or cruel tresses.
The eyes are often referred to as the goblet of wine, able to slay with one look.
Un ras bhari aakhon mein haya khel rahi hai
Do zeher ke pyalon mein kaza khel rahi hai
In those nectar filled eyes, shyness plays around
Like in two goblets of poison, death is playing around
Ada, or andaz of women, often called innocent yet badass:
Is sadgi pe kaun na mar jaaye ae khuda
ladte hai aur haath mein talwar bhi nahi
For this simplicity who will not lay their life o lord
They fight without even a weapon in hand
And poets have never been more kind to the lips, entitling them with the power to change seasons.
Yun Muskuraye jaan si kaliyon pe padh gayi
Yun lab-kusha huye ki gulistaan bana diya