She said she was very happy, and when I looked into her eyes, I saw a twinkle there.
I almost believed her.
Then I looked again, the twinkle had dwindled.
And in its place, a hollow look,
She looked tired, worn out and sad.
And then she told me about her escape,
Again, the twinkle appeared,
And stayed as she talked about it.
In that brief moment, she was happy and free.
Then, I asked about the other,
And the gloom look reappeared.
She said that she has days of freedom, 
days of joy, days of total abandon and liberty.
When she is on threshold of her escape.
But, there are also days of enslavement, of gloom, 
of mourning for a paradise lost.
For that was what she had become: a slave to conventions.
Confined to the norms that has been imposed
And knowing that she has to stay in that lost paradise 
which has been turned into a brown iron cage.
And I told her, just like everybody else, to do the right thing
She answered, just like she does to everybody else, 
“I am both bound and freed by the right things”