Looking for a business loan? Check out these 8 government loan schemes EXCLUSIVE for Indian women in business!
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!
As a mother, Neha had always been there for her daughter. Why couldn't her daughter be there for her when Neha needed someone to talk to?
Neha was having severe problems with her periods. Her periods were highly irregular.
Once they had stopped altogether for 8 months after a long period of three years of hot flashes, and she was hopeful that her menopause had arrived. But presumably not so! She had heavier than usual period soon after.
These intermittent on-and-off intervals of period puzzled her a lot. Not that she hadn’t shown to the gynaecologists, but the prolonged period of menopause was very irritating and difficult.
As a working woman, if I wish to take care of my mother, why do you have a problem with it?
When I joined one of the organisations on deputation, I was asked to fill up several forms as usual.
One of the forms was related to the individual’s dependents. In that, I also filled up the name of my mother, which I had been doing since the time my father died.
Immediately the junior official exclaimed, “You can’t fill up your mother’s name as a dependent!”
Please enter your email address