Rape
Rape appears again.
Rape appears again.
With
its creative pare, faking pain
Fruits
of pleasure hanging, lying, floating
On
parts of nature,
O
beauty!
India
‘is the cruelest’ place.
Where
grimace is the name for the powerful grace;
Green
shames unleash red tapes and lace
Horror
blue showers on fertile lands,
Grasses
hang and leaves drop from the naked tree
From
where these rights become so wrong
How
I’d pen a different song!
Though
nothing stops.
‘Move
on’ the weakest call that survives,
Buildings
don’t collapse on insolent mud,
Businesses
don’t crash on sticky thud,
Works
don’t smash on the crackup grounds,
Ladies,
women, girls don’t cease to solemnize birth
Gentlemen,
guys, boys don’t tire to comply.
But
I am guilty; burn the poem for in here I solicit a revolution,
You
will not allow me to enter this pious premise I know
For
I write here to stop everything on this treasured soil,
What
is the need for growth, for wealth of any kind!
When
being a rapist is our potent pride.
I
am guilty of taking law, the blind into
my own hands.
I
am guilty; I should be punished in no time,
Curb
me down I know I will get my judgement so quick
This
bard is guilty with poisonous stings
No
girls, and they’re not my ‘ma’ and ‘behen’, they’re girls with wings
See!
On grounds of disrespect you could put me behind the bars,
No
girls I say are safe in India,
Violated
in this failing country of ‘dead habits’!
Let
the world know how virile we are.
India
tops in honor killing and rape,
We
are here to nail down love, and drain our lust without escape
My
country is the cruelest country,
You
have another ground to bring this brute to book.
With
a foolproof pen inking so openly white
Go
hunt and hurt with all your might.
Laws
will wall you save your claws
And
tell us stories of women’s flaws.
O
beauty!
On
parts of nature,
Fruits
of pleasure hanging, lying, floating
With
its creative pare, faking pain
Rape
appears again.
Note:
Ma means mother, behen means sister. One of the common ways to refer to Indian
women to show respect; however, men are seldom referred to as Baba (father) and
bhaiya (brother). In India, we think that women are more respected if they are
referred to as mother and sister, and not just as women. The
poem has 47 lines, crafted and hammered as a reminder to lot many things for no
use at all.
I was not sure of whether I should share this poem until I thought of keeping my being sure aside. Yes, 'rape' has become a statement of power in India. Women of all ages are first raped then brutally murdered with the relatives of the victims running from pillar to post for justice.
09 June 2014
