Jun 29
They called me rude,
disrespectful,
bold.
But all I did was hold up
a mirror in a classroom
that only ever showed
the filtered angles
of history.
Yes, I’m the girl
who called Gandhi a ‘pick me’.
Because someone had to say it.
Three satyagrahas,
and only one worked.
Salt was his only seasoning of success.
But he still acted like he invented
morality.
A fast unto death—
how is that not dramatic?
But if I raise my voice in a debate,
I'm the hysterical one?
Please.
You want to talk self-control,
but ignore how he slept beside
young girls
as some twisted, spiritual experiment—
trying to test his strength
or his shame?
That’s not peace.
That’s a power trip
dressed in a dhoti.
And still—
I’m the one scolded
for “slandering”
a figure we never even saw
in full light.
Your history books
hid the shadows.
But me and my friend—
we studied the margins,
read between the lines,
asked why truth is only allowed
in black and white.
So yes.
Write it in the yearbook,
pin it to the wall:
I’m the girl who called Gandhi a pick me.
Not because I hate history—
but because I actually read it.
Uncensored.
Unapologetic.
Unfolded.
disrespectful,
bold.
But all I did was hold up
a mirror in a classroom
that only ever showed
the filtered angles
of history.
Yes, I’m the girl
who called Gandhi a ‘pick me’.
Because someone had to say it.
Three satyagrahas,
and only one worked.
Salt was his only seasoning of success.
But he still acted like he invented
morality.
A fast unto death—
how is that not dramatic?
But if I raise my voice in a debate,
I'm the hysterical one?
Please.
You want to talk self-control,
but ignore how he slept beside
young girls
as some twisted, spiritual experiment—
trying to test his strength
or his shame?
That’s not peace.
That’s a power trip
dressed in a dhoti.
And still—
I’m the one scolded
for “slandering”
a figure we never even saw
in full light.
Your history books
hid the shadows.
But me and my friend—
we studied the margins,
read between the lines,
asked why truth is only allowed
in black and white.
So yes.
Write it in the yearbook,
pin it to the wall:
I’m the girl who called Gandhi a pick me.
Not because I hate history—
but because I actually read it.
Uncensored.
Unapologetic.
Unfolded.
Gandhi is always portrayed like a saint in history books, but there’s a side of him that’s rarely talked about. He used to sleep next to young girls, including his teenage niece, to “test” his celibacy, which is honestly disturbing. He also did things like fasting unto death to emotionally pressure people, yet women get called dramatic for way less. So when I called him a “pick me,” it was my way of pointing out those double standards and questioning why certain actions are glorified just because it’s a famous man doing them. It’s not about disrespect—it’s about looking at history critically and not ignoring the uncomfortable parts.
