The foreword
Abhaya! The modern Joan of Arc
from the city of joy.
They murdered you, but you’re immortal despite their ploy.
A heart of a caregiver so honest and true
Before 2047, wish we could make your statue;
We will not let you die
You raised your voice against corruption,
against the goons, their lies
We will deafen them with our outcries.
Your innocence will be heard from afar
Your face will shine like the golden star
We’ll reveal their dirty, nasty, ghastly game
Not rest until they’re punished
Until they’re put to shame.
The body
Deprived and wronged doctors
Raise their voice against violation and murder
Merciless butchering of a doctor on duty, a mayhem
Out in the open now like the sky of autumn
Unopened box of unwritten robbery, chicanery revealed
Medical practitioners marched and screeched
Indian men, women from all walks of life joined the protest
The slogan ‘we want justice’ echoed without rest.
Agonized parents, colleagues, lawyers, players out on the streets.
Determined, demanded justice from the leaders, from the police.
Eager to know the reason behind the slaughter, indoctrination, depredation
Bemoaned kerfuffle clamored the lackadaisical police chief's resignation.
Nocturnal fears conquered, the women claimed the nights
Angered with the administration, their horrendous plights.
Truth will come out, it cannot remain in the dark,
Herculean task before us is to expose the misdemeanors’ mask.
The epilogue
History has witnessed a deadly act that shouldn’t ever repeat
Not helpless, the Doctors stand hand in hand, they'll not accept defeat.
