An island of dreams

They say, every girl takes that wonderful transition from childhood to womanhood the day nature blesses her with the first sign of her fertility. When slowly, the childlike form of her nubile body takes on the characteristics of her mother. It's a tough time for her to decide what to feel? joyous over the prospect of gaining the status of an 'adult' overnight, or sad because her freedom has been taken away? Then before she can think long or think hard, and before she even realizes, she transforms into a woman on her own. She begins to embrace her sexuality, or hide it. Either way, she begins to draw a different kind of attraction from the male members of her family and friends than she did before. For Now she does not get to hear loud exclamations about her cuteness in the patronizing tones of her uncles but  extracts an altogether different kind of emotion which shows through the eyes of men as a glint which sometimes flatters, and sometimes burns her. Gradually she becomes accustomed to it all. Accustomed to the penetrating glances, to the hintful smiles and suggestive sentences thrown at her. This psychological transformation of a woman is as overwhelming in its impact as the physical one.
Furthermore, If a woman fails to transform either way, she becomes misfit for the society. Then she has to fight a battle everyday. This battle is fought between her and everybody else in the day, while in the night time her mind becomes the battlefield and she, just a wounded soldier on the verge of giving in.
The soldier has a secret. She's standing tall and proud and though she'll never admit it, she's looking for a peace treaty that has near-acceptable terms which do not demand a compromise on her freedom to an extent which will suffocate her, yet provide to her the comfort of a companion. So what if that companion is controller of her freedom, her desires and her dreams?
For now, she's tired of fighting battles. The space between her freedom and her tiredness is widening every day. She's not short of will power , but she has to submit to a failing nature has marked her with. She has to stop and love. She has to care for the woman whose womb had been her home. She has to be the reason behind a man's satisfaction and bliss. She has to be held in the cold winter nights, she has to tear down her flesh to produce a life that will replace her.
This is the sea between the beach she is standing on & her island of desires.
The sea is tempting to slip into. Once she's in the sea, she plunges into its depth , mingling with millions of its wilful inhabitants. Thus slowly, over time she loses that distinction which set her apart from others.

Decades later if you ask her if she is happy. She looks up at her kids with proud eyes and shares a smile with her husband that warms the room.
But ever if you ask her, is this the life you dreamt of? She looks into your eyes. And i swear, her eyes has that hollow look of lost dreams. The island of desires which are now alien to the person who created them ; herself.