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Namita Anna Givi Apr 2018
On a late foggy winter night,
Walking down the lane with a heavy mind
For it was December and celebrations were at hind,
Harrowing two years, all alone in the metro flew;
Sacrifices for those pennies, for a perfect Christmas back home.

All seemed so near while chatting with him, my plans
Never knowing it was soon to be my “black day”.
Soon to be punched, tossed and gnawed upon
To be jeered and taunted, thrown off like a rag doll,
All for a reason of being born:
For being in this world, born as a ‘girl’.

Oh! in that hell on Earth, with those savage beasts
All alone. Do ask them, didn’t I?
Did I not beg, fall at your feet, as you tore off my tee?
Didn’t I bawl as every atom of me revolted your entry?
Did I not plead for a water drop, as every ounce of my energy drained?
Slowly it hit me how I ceased being a human, more like a prop for them.

Desperately I fought that day, **** and on my own-
Losing battles for my pride and for justice one after another,
Lying down on the road, I did hope for Santa to come early that year
Wishing he would put another day in my ‘Christmas stocking’.
Just to show these cannibals — how it feels,
To be left of nowhere — Neither dead nor living for 13 long days.

I know I am a dying light, yet I wish someone would kindle it;
Awake the sleepy heads across the nation to fight-
For there are more “Nirbhayas” across the country and the world
Battling against many more shameless dastards
Wearing innocent angel like smile in the morning,
But as dusk sets in, the Lucifer returns to hunt.

Find them, **** them — no, it’s not for revenge,
It’s from the brave heart, a prayer-
For there shouldn’t be another me… not now and not ever.
December 16, 2012, was a black day for people all over the world who knew her. And for Indians, it was a dreadful self-realisation, the superstition of ‘woman’ being safe when accompanied by a male figure was shattered into pieces. And a monster was revealed to the world, freaking out every female in the country and me, a then 17-year-old was one of them.
Lawrence Hall Nov 2022
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                              The Not-So-Red Tsunami Tide Pod

                                 A plague a’ both your houses!

                                  -Mercutio in Romeo and Juliet

The Blues and the Reds -

At each other they slang and curse and cuss
But while doing so they can’t bother the rest of us

Alas that both parties are expensive dastards -
We have to pay taxes to support those (wretches)
Red Tide,  Red Tsunami

— The End —