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Isha Kumar Oct 2014
That December night happened
an act so traumatic.
It proved that humanity
had really turned pathetic.

It was a fatal wound
in the human history.
The fight she braved
will remain for more than a century.

The story of Nirbhaya,
the story of the fearless one.
Such was her fight
that she had ,both, lost and won.

How merciless they were,
those five, cruel villains.
The crime they committed
caused anger in the hearts of billions.

They assaulted.
They attacked.
With their senses drained
her innocence, they hacked.

They left her lying
bare, bleeding and injured.
Her death was certain,
that they had insured.

Her breathing became slow
but she never let it falter.
She decided to challenge fate
and fate she did alter.

She lay in the hospital
fighting for her living.
I can and I will do it,
she kept on believing.

She was an inspiration.
She was a bright light.
She made women vow
for justice they should fight.

The story of Nirbhaya.
The story of the fearless one.
Such was her fight
that she had, both, lost and won.
Apoorv Bhardwaj Mar 2018
Nirbhaya

I might cry, I might weep, I might grieve,
But today you have to perceive,
A truth for my relieve.
I know you know, I won't deceive.

She called me Nirbhaya, my mother,
Fearless and brave I ought to be.
Something she knew about this world,
So harsh it is meant to be.

It was a usual night,
all strangers but no fright.
I took the same road to home,
the road which guarded for years in lone.

I walked the lonely road,
I do not fear, my name held my hope.
All I fear is that it do not end,
as hope is no less than a rope.

It varies in length,
It varies in strength,
It's nothing to cloy,
But it's not a forever joy.

The roads were getting longer,
My heart wore a dismal veil.
It all seemed so tedious to reach,
with fright it started a peculiar gale.

I must not stop, I must go on,
I held my hope and I went on.
Why do I fear if nothing good appear,
In the name of my god I can cheer.

Far at the horizon some shapes appeared,
I held my breath, the breeze were wierd.
I held my faith and like a knight I went,
No horse, no shield, what on earth did I meant.

In my bravery I was lost,
Thence the men appeared.
What a fool I was for what will it cost,
The dreary eyes with a dreary beard.

Side by side they shoved,
The men not more than two.
All my breaths were choked,
What did they meant to do.

I scrambled at once,
Nor besides nor abaft I looked.
The footsteps broke the silence,
The silent night was spooked.

Out of the blue my hand was seized,
All at once I turned.
The dreadful two met my eyes,
Out my heart it burned.

“Unhand me! let me go!”,
To break loose I tried.
Tears did rolled down my cheeks,
I screamed and yelled and cried.

No good men did heard me,
No one did follow.
What pleasures would they earn,
hearing me weep and wallow.

All my yells were ceased,
tried to flee through my eyes.
Top to bottom I was teased,
till every yell turned to sighs.

Eftsoon my eyes wore a veil,
fear spread its wings.
None to follow the trail,
A dark melody it sings.

I resisted their temptation,
Down the road I was shuffled.
I totterd while learning to walk,
But no one ever hustled.

In a while the groping concluded,
And out my heart I sobbed.
Henceforth a while I stood untouched,
But still the painful heartbeats throbbed.

I faltered, and horrified I stood,
Darkness  engulped my eyes.
Every hope did swept,
Soaked into the veil that ties.

But not for too long I enjoyed,
this harrowing freedom of mine.
A palm explored the wonders,
that groping reckless swine.

He mauled as the time passed by,
He laughed as I cried.
I was and feeble,
the more I weeped the more he tried.

One by one they parted,
Piece by piece he ripped my skin.
Victim of the vigorous haste,
slivered top and slivered jeans off the shin.

Soon he swayed all my flesh,
With all his fingers he plied.
Groped my skin with all his filth,
I weeped and sobbed and cried.

Trying to hide the genitals,
There I stood naked.
What else  men can do,
It was anticipated.

Disobliging did annoy ,
Forthwith the veil was swept.
I was a plaything for their joy,
All my grieve I wept.

From one to another I was tossed ,
each leaving a scar.
Feasting their wildest lust,
all the planets and I their star.

A few more added,
added to the raging set.
Brawling for my flesh,
Like their dreams they met.

Off they took their covers ,
Little by little they shed.
A few times they snick,
All my faith I bled.

All my hopes I lost,
Their scrubbing skin did scraped.
It’s facile to die a thousand times,
Then for once being *****.

So inhumanly it pierced,
Out my heart it ripped.
Tears did impelled down my cheeks ,
The cheeks made to be felt or kissed.

Draining smoke and widdle and ***,
Turn by turn they shagged.
Offering an eternal torment,
All my grace they blagged.

Seconds felt like hours,
hours like days .
No wonder mere humans were they,
The devil hath their ways.

Like a setting sun they frazzled,
a sun of endless grieve.
I the wonky that they dazzled,
Or what did they perceive.

I should not walk the roads,
Nor I should talk to thee.
For I will turn to a harlot,
Who knows what else you might see.

Soon I was abandoned ,
withered by some ghoul.
I wasn’t the pioneer,
The devil needed a new soul.

The dark night overwhelmed,
Leaving me unconsumed, uneaten,untouched.
My snivel sealed through the silence,
Bethinking how they groped or clutched.

Like every other night this one too,
Passed in grieves that can’t be undone.
Day and night, night and day,
Who can seize the cycles of the sun.

Countless nights have passed ,
My heart still miss some beats .
Beseech the will to pretermit ,
The memory has it on its sheets.

I saw no good men that day,
No god did appear.
I could never raise my head and stay,
This memory will never disappear.

What a fool I was ,
I should have run.
But had I any choice,
to flee or to shun.

If not here then there,
Round in the world somewhere,
They will come for it, the bust,
to feed the endless lust.

I saw no good men that day,
No god did appear .
Just a few men to say,
I bought a disgrace, I should disappear.

Why was i a shame ?,
All my esteem they drown.
Those lecherous souls do gladly glide,
bearing a princely crown.

I was the culprit,
They were young and proud.
I was looted of my treasure,
Not all they took but left a shroud.

The beasts in there were grim,
The nobles out here no less.
To them my yells were hymm,
To them I lost my nobelesse.
Why is it that women do not feel safe in between men ...have we lost the meaning of manlihood ?
sheeba balan kpp Mar 2015
Now more reasons to be fearless
your wretched statements
there is no love in anything
just ****** ***
all the more reasons to be a woman
all the more reasons to flaunt my fat **** thighs
my ****** dresses
coquettish smiles
drinks
until you are hanged by the government of India
Until then and more
I am nirbhaya
nirbhaya woman
VNAVEEN KUMAR Dec 2014
Acrostic poem

Necessity of society
Intensity of people agitation
Redefined the common man’s power
Boiling over attacks on women
Hot-tempered youth
Ashamed to say
Yardstick of behavior
Assault on women go unreported
-Naveen
I am a daughter, your daughter, India’s daughter
But then? If I am your daughter…
WHY?
Did I go through immense torture?
Endless fear, suffocation and pain
In the end what did you gain???
I was alone, my friend was thrown and he was gone,
You were more and were so strong
What did I do wrong?
I thought life was bed of roses,
Full of love, affection and care.
BUT then
My views changed the day you made poses.
You tore me, cut me, shredded me into pieces,
I bled, cried, screamed, yelled till I was voiceless, motionless and nearly dead.
Nothing bothered you. You went on and on and on…
WHY?
I am a daughter, your daughter, India’s daughter
But then? If I am your daughter…
WHY? WHY? WHY?
Today I will rest in peace.
For you will know fear, suffocation and pain…
I wish all the daughters are safe and free
With no fear, pain and shame.
If you dare to do this again
I will rise and fight for what I deserve
And you will pay for what you deserve…
Dr PRERNA SINGLA Oct 2015
Who is the world to define mine right or wrong?
I am the one who decides it on my own
The world a crazy place, people so weird
Finding faults everywhere, while hiding in their beard
When you stand for the right,
They will advocate the wrong
Justifying the same
With million excuses in their thong
Nirbhaya *****, they say girl was characterless
Skirts, shorts, boyfriend, night shows - shameless
And inchoate, rightly arousing men to ****
One in coma now a four year old gang *****
Society mum when humanity disgraced???
Where are the people of so called decent family?
Who judge n criticize from hair to lamellae
If smoking kills, why is it not banned??
Beef eaters killed, man eaters praised on the land
Alcohol, marijuana bad for health
While more people die from terrorist attacks
Crores are spent to maintain a terrorist
To a soldier dying for the country, not even lakhs
A rich is a witch flaunting their gold
A poor a leech for things they cannot afford?
Without external beauty a person is a waste?
Your pennyless pocket how shall I grade?
Other’s loss is a righteous act of God?
Yours is a tragedy, unfortunate loss???
And then you have religion & morals
To justify your notions
Right or wrong, judgement filled oceans
I am a free spirit,
Born not to please your beliefs
Enough of hypocrite world I see
Killing and dividing on castes and creeds.
                 © Dr. PRERNA SINGLA, 13 Oct. 2015
The current incidents of toddlers getting gang ***** urged me to write this poem. on one hand where the society blames the victim, raising fingers on her character, her clothes,.. now what they have to say for girls of 2 or 4 or 5 yrs of age who r recently gangraped in delhi and nearby areas??? a muslim killed for eating beef but how can society justify the killing of humanity on mass level??? millions of funds are spent on terrorists but for the soldiers dying for the country why only lakhs?? why discrimination on castes n creeds n religions n race n orientation n colour when nature has made us all the same?? we all need food water air ... our bodies work exactly the same , so why all this hatred when nature doesn't discriminate??
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.
What's in a name?
Let me tell you a story,
Of how my life changed,
And how my name changed,
Every time it appeared on the newspaper.

Replaced by a pseudonym,
Something to do with courage,
I was namelessly admired, slandered, and debated over,
Media’s Exclusive Coverage!

The newspaper headline read in big block letters:
“14 YEAR OLD GIRL SAVES SIX KINDERGARTNERS”,
That made me smile.
Just maybe I thought we had come that extra mile.
But no for I noticed,
My name was changed,
And the Printing Department was not at fault.
That’s just how my country dealt with ****** assault.
I never asked them to hide my name,
They had presumed, of course, that I was ashamed,
Of saving lives. It took me a minute to remember,
I had called Jyoti Nirbhaya for years.

I wanted them to know who I was,
Hiding I thought was for criminals,
Until I realized that I WAS one when,
On returning from the hospital I saw,
Pain in my mother’s,
Anger in my father’s,
And disgust in my relatives’ eyes.
No idea why a part of me had come expecting pride.

In school my “friends” guiltily refrained from talking to me,
Neither were my teachers too happy to see,
That I had returned to the same school,
Bringing with me my painful story,
Which I had mistaken as one of glory.

And when I went to receive the “Bravery Award”,
Only the trophy didn’t read compensation award.
They looked at me with too kind eyes calling me a “hero”
Their smiles told me they meant violated.

As I received the award,
I saw they were trying really hard,
To not let it show,
That they wanted me to know,
The difference between:
Bullet marks on the chest to bite marks on the breast,
Blue around the eyes to blue around the thighs,
Scratches on the fists to cuts on the wrists,
Loud screams in the cold to muffled screams against the cold,
The red of the torn ligament to the red of the torn *****,
The difference between a soldier’s and a victim’s blood.

And suddenly I felt as if I was,
The rescued,
Not the rescuer,
The maimed,
Not the fighter,
The oppressed,
Not the rebel,
The hostage,
Not the warrior,
I thought myself to be.

What’s in a name?
Apparently, a lot.
The name of the girl who is a **** survivor is always changed and replaced by a pseudonymn in India.
Jiya Arora Jan 2019
Finally she becomes a teen and turns fifteen,
May you keep her bound
But now,her wings are open
So her feet won’t touch the ground.

Whether she lives in a palace or in a hut,
she is told to keep her mouth shut.
She is told to dress properly and not walk alone among the crowd,
she is told to be low and not to be loud!

Oh goodness! We stand on the verge of twenty first century,
where people have a heart of stone.
They keep girls hidden
so they are never known.

She is told to be home before eight.
You know what?
She is called FAT if she gains weight!

You keep her caged
and tell her not to wear short
for if she does so,
She would be *****.

She turns twenty,
You again tell her not to be loud.
You tell her “Don’t talk to boys.”
But oh my dear people,
You don’t know she’d make you proud.

Now she turns thirty
and you tell her to marry.
You try to alienate her,
because now for you,
her load is impossible to carry.

You tell her not to be violent
because you think we live in a nation
where girls need to be silent!
She suffers through pain but
maybe it’s all okay for you
because we live in a country where
‘Nirbhaya kand’ was left in vain.

— The End —