( This
poem reflects on the staggering male-female ratio in many parts of Asia due to
a lingering cultural preference for boys. It is a take on female
infanticide and crime against women.)
In the shadow of angry brutes and copious squeals she walks
Refracted
and bent, starved inside the infinity of her skin,
stumbling
through the rocks
There’s
no healing for her for only pain makes history
She
mocks the gods we assume watch over in their sublime glory
This
time it’s not the fall of Eve but the doom of entire humanity
as
the last woman on the earth approaches the threshold of death, humoring some
patriarch’s vanity
No
darkness weighs anything for her; she has seen her sisters getting raped
A
hapless witness of deflowered women or girls teenaged
How
the beddings of our fathers now reek of the virgin blood
She
issues forth a deep sigh when memories of graceless mutiny flood back with a
thud
Scantily
clad young innocent girls with crumbling time line
Suffering
ethical rape, unpaid rape, rape paid or rape with ‘harmless design’
Suffocated
them in mogul harems, grabbed them from behind
Tamed
them with improbable stories by preachers and religion blind
Ripping
more than their skins, not even sparing their female fetus
With
so called corrective violence within the four walls
They
marred the contours of Venus
When
honor killings or women burnt were reduced to mere statistic(s)
And
indifferent male establishment dismissed such bloodshed as trivially criminalistic
Soon
enough the hitherto heard sweet laughs were to be gone
Entailing
the poor womankind, savagery is what you won.
