Prey was I,
For those beastly eyes,
An object of interest,
One touches and judges before a buy,
Not with money,
But wounds for pleasure.
Wounds heal they say with time,
mine were opened, each passing day,
By each spectator.
Withered rose in a broken pot,
He plucked the petals,
they attacked the root.
“You would have instigated,”
“Why were you alone at that time?”
“Why were you dressed like that,
dupatta kyun nai Liya?”
“It’s your fault, its your fault”…
They too traded pain for pleasure,
Just the form of it changed,
Only this one cut through my being,
And ravaged the soul.
The beast was jailed,
But they lived free,
To attack some other root,
And dig, and hurt and continue so,
Until the garden ruined.
They have imprisoned the society.
* * * *
It’s been one year since the Delhi rape case. Many new cases filed after that. But did anything change?
Ours is a country where people victimise the victim (only if she is a girl) to such an extent that she is left with no other option than to cut herself out from the society. Stop living.
Its women’s day and I hope there comes a time when this one day is not required to celebrate being a woman.
Where everyday is a day of equality and respect.
* * * *
I am running a special woman’s day theme in the month of march. Expect one on every Friday this month. the one you just read is a special feature for the women’s day.
Keep coming for more.
Read the first one here: do we have reasons to celebrate women’s day?
Image source: here