A POEM THAT I PROCRASTINATED : ANOTHER RAPE POEM

A POEM THAT I PROCRASTINATED : ANOTHER RAPE POEM

Living In the nation of disparity and dismal , 

The notion doesn`t time well anyday,

 Half of our population is occupied teaching their girl child ,

What they should wear and what they should not ?

What is the curfew time and what is the correct age to marry?

How to be safe and how to carry yourself ?

Where the absurdity lies that what do you want your son to be like?

Or do you just live in euphoria that you have given birth to an XY chromosome?

Shouldn`t you teach themselves alike, how to be a human , first?

Someone with emotions, empathy and benevolence ?

We read poems all around,

one after another, round after round.

a poem that I procrastinated ,

a poem that was so  potential to  get digested .

 a poem that have  returned myrides of time  and get buried , 

 but still the matter is never resolved that I could inhibit to recite.

 another Rape poem, another women anthem. 

something that need to be heard again and again,

 but still the poem never ends on the notes,

 making us feel any better ,but always manages to make  us more  bitter. 

It ain`t the murder , it is more than a murder,

As you don`t plight the body, but you sick the soul,

a mental passivity and a filthy reality,

that how humans have stained humanity, worse than the animal cruelity.

A nation that celebrates independence,

Independence of crores, independence of men , independence of half the populace. 

As the other half lives, sheer death of cries,

Anomalies, absurdities, and adversities, the cult of crafty crap. 

We live in  nation where, when a women bear a male child ,

She  continues the lineage of her family , 

but fears, if he might  traumatise the “Lakshmi” of someone`s else family ,

because she was also sexually assaulted when she was just nine.

A vicious circle , A chauvanist chaser, 

a malicious Manovalent, a ballistic bastard,

an  erosive executioner, snobbery saddist

A  ruthless wrecked  rapist, a rattlesnake.

 a versatile Vampire, carrying varied weapons in his hands.

one who treats women in disgrace.

a deadly intermingling of  ,

historionism who is a deficient defect .

a monster in malice, a dracorian demon ,

a stigmatic stature , shrewd shackles draggered around her cage,

a deceptive devil, for those who feel the world is safe,

aren`t all of us , who never experienced this, feel really privileged, when this is just a basic human right  ?

a  hazardous hypocrite,  seems like we have gone through much ,

a venemonous vulture , I fear I will give birth to a son, 

an unrepentful perpetrator, pertaining proudly at his post,

and the society says , we shouldn`t victimise this ,

 as the saved ones are survivors, survived who? 

You , or the world? 

or the guy who took her dignity and slaughtered her ,

so she can shut.

tattered clothes , Wounds all over her skin,

he is not used to frowns and  shouts,

doomed fate, unzipped blouse ,

she thought , she should have better committed suicide . 

Was she another hit and run case ? 

as she went to diagnose the patients , 

and came back home draped in a sheet of her  pending  screams,

as she couldn`t even scream.

As she was assassinated before she was raped,

She was shooted before she was deflowered ,

She was dethroned to feel so infirm at a young age,

As she was a woman, she cannot practice her profession.

A bafoon to even contemplate , 

that she could cure someone else,

When she should herself be dead, 

Her XX chromosomes , made her life a living hell .

Because how our cops are so proficient in, 

Supporting victims and hanging perpetrators ,

Am I being satirical,  comical  , or radical?

But what should I be? if their are cannibals.

We all are tired of hearing rape poems , 

And I am tired of writing another one,

But what should I do when the   world is in war with?

And the  corpses are not narrative build.

What should I do, if not weaponize my words ?

And use it against men , men of rape culture,  

What should I do, if not bleed from my soul ?

To cuss the system , and the government and the red tape culture ?

What should I do, think thrice before going out  and still not go out ?

 

The choice to hang the “RUTHLESS’’, so the crime does not repeat,

But what we choose is, to let it go. 

 and this is how I penned, another rape poem at another weekend.

 and this is how another rape poem ends,

with the death note of a girl written besides her bed ,

and the dreary end of another woman.

Leeza