A poignant poem that takes its unfortunate inspiration from the Kathua rape and murder of an 8 year old. Do read.
Trigger alert: This post contains descriptions of violence that could be disturbing for some readers.
A mom’s heart
Sat beside her little girl’s
Trying to moisten the soil
With tears of blood
“Tell me little girl
Tell me your pain!”
The little girl answered-
“Dear mom, tell me first honestly
Didn’t you too secretly want a son?
Was I born in vain?”
The mom’s heart sighed
And with more tears replied-
“Yes I did little one, because
I too was a little girl here once,
I knew what they do to you
If you are born as a burden
Often wombs are tombs
For unborn girls, sigh!”
“So then why did you have me?”
“Well little girl I did because I hoped
Things would change and improve
You will work and study
And will have a lot to prove
For yourself, me and my mom
And all the women before you
Who this world forgot.”
“Yes mom, I was trying
But why didn’t you tell me
They could take me anytime
And do things to me
That hurt, not just my tiny body
But things that bruised even my heart!
And I didn’t understand why, why!
They were tearing me apart
Like a lifeless toy
I didn’t know that soon I was about to die
I couldn’t even shout or loudly cry
But could you ask the world mamma
For me why? Why?”
The mother’s heart mourned
And turned into the headstone
Of the grave of the little girl
Mutilated and sacrificed
Brutally left alone to die!
The headstone read-
“A step at a time”
Each little flame of life
You snubbed out in its prime
Will now become a fire
May their curses combine!
You will pay for your crimes
You may politicise, hide or pray
Soon it will be your judgement day!
This story had been shortlisted for the April 2018 Muse of the Month, but not among the top 5 winners.
Image source: pixabay
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. If you have a complementary or differing point of view, sign up and start sharing your views too!
Pooja Priyamvada is a columnist, professional translator and an online content and Social Media consultant.
Butterflies Are Always Free, Like The Dreams Of A Girl Child
You Have No Idea What I Went Through…
Timeline Of An Illiterate Girl
To The Little Girl Who Talks To Birds…
Stay updated with our Weekly Newsletter or Daily Summary - or both!