Wednesday 4 May 2016


Every time it happens
We keep moving, nevertheless,
Hanging our heads in shame.

She is someone
She was someone- a daughter
A sister, a friend may be.

As she walked alone,
Sat shut down,
Her heart must have bled.

What knives didn't pierce
Was the heart that beat
Crying for help, that no one heard.

With intestines pulled out,
Thirty stabs later and an iron rod
Inside of her- she must have wept.

Weep she did, wail she did,
Not in physical agony
But for us the people, who are dead.

It's not you who is dead-
It is us the silent ones...
Shame on us- we failed again.

Grave after grave is dug,
We walk past unfazed
It's someone's daughter- not mine!

Candle marches, silent vigils
Media circus and few days ahead
India's daughter- gets a new face.

Ban the documentaries, hang the dogmas
Release the juveniles, change the laws
That doesn't change is you and me.

p.s: 30 year old law student,  Jisha of Perumbavoor, Kerala was brutally murdered by un identified assailants. This poem in memory of Jisha and our overbearing silence on rapes and such brutal murders. 

1 comment:

  1. சவுதி மாதிரி தண்டனைகள் தராத வரை நம் மக்கள் திருந்த போவது இல்லை . மாலினி 22 பாளையம்கோட்டை படத்தில் வருவது போல பெநேக்டோமிசெஸ் பண்ணலாம் தப்பு இல்லை !மேலும் நம் பெண்களும் பாய் கட் செய்து ஜீன்ஸ் போட்டு பெண் என்றல் அழகு என்ற இமேஜ் ஐ விட்டு வெளியே வர வேண்டும்


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