Over the years, your support has made Women’s Web the leading resource for women in India. Now, it is our turn to ask, how can we make this even more useful for you? Please take our short 5 minute questionnaire – your feedback is important to us!
This poem expresses a mother's angst, fury, desolation at her daughter's gang rape and gruesome murder at the hands of some sadistic perverts.
This poem expresses a mother’s angst, fury, desolation at her daughter’s gang rape and gruesome murder at the hands of some sadistic perverts.
Towards the end of the poem she expresses her determination to not relent in her efforts to seek justice for her daughter, punishment for her perpetrators and clear her name of the slur that the callous police and society have heaped on her character by calling her a slut who incited men’s lust.
One Dark Ominous Rainy night
The home lies desolate and still The fan whispers a shrieking trill, Your memories lie undone and scattered Grim thoughts roam unchecked and battered. For anyone, anything else, little do I care When looking at your smiling visage is a dare.
One dark ominous rainy night…..
Holed up, terrified, your mom you frantically called Helpless, terrified, I heard you being cruelly mauled. My baby’s pleadings piercing through the savage rain, My hands twitched to wrench them away, but in vain. My heart would skip a beat when my baby bawled. How am I alive when her breath the oppressors stalled?
Vituperative, remorseless, bereft of any spirits kindred The monsters still prance around, unbarred, unhindered. With vicious grins dotting the devils’ mouths They mock and taunt and jeer, the unrepentant louts. The lawkeepers empathized, promised to come They came, only to accuse you and ruin your name.
They thought your creator was gullible and naive, Now they’d realize why omnipresent God kept me alive, To exemplify a mom’s bottomless grit and determination, To penalize, discipline and extract retribution, To see the perpetrators cower, kicked and barred And restore your name, by the recalcitrant, scarred.
Published here earlier.
Image source: pixabay
Curious about anything and everything. Proud to be born a woman. Spiritual, not religious. Blogger, author, poet, educator, counselor. read more...
Women's Web is an open platform that publishes a diversity of views, individual posts do not necessarily represent the platform's views and opinions at all times.
Stay updated with our Weekly Newsletter or Daily Summary - or both!
He said that he needed sometime to himself. I waited for him as any other woman would have done, and I gave him his space, I didn't want to be the clingy one.
Trigger Warning: This deals with mental trauma and depression, and may be triggering for survivors.
I am someone who believes in honesty and trust, I trust people easily and I think most of the times this habit of mine turns into bane.
This is a story of how a matrimonial website service turned into a nightmare for me, already traumatized by the two relationships I’ve had. It’s a story for every woman who lives her life on the principles of honesty and trust.
And when she enters the bedroom, she sees her husband's towel lying on the bed, his underwear thrown about in their bathroom. She rolls her eyes, sighs and picks it up to put in the laundry bag.
Vasudha, age 28 – is an excellent dancer, writer, podcaster and a mandala artist. She is talented young woman, a go getter and wouldn’t bat an eyelid if she had to try anything new. She would go head on with it. Everyone knew Vasudha as this cheerful and pretty young lady.
Except when marriage changed everything she knew. Since she was always outdoors, whether for office or for travelling for her dance shows, Vasudha didn’t know how to cook well.
Going by her in-laws definition of cooking – she had to know how to cook any dishes they mentioned. Till then Vasudha didn’t know that learning to cook was similar to getting an educational qualification. As soon as she entered the household after her engagement, nobody was interested what she excelled at, everybody wanted to know – what dishes she knew how to cook.