Women in feudal India

The sitar plucked and pulled
Emits the wildest sensuous sound
The impulse of emotion
The instinct of devotion
The pathos of predicament
In pulsation i was drowned

Truthfulness created in me
Intuition to
Be responsive and understanding
Cordial and true
Gripped by red blooded vigour
And an aunt whose intense way
Influenced my being
On that summers day

Drugged up to the eyballs
Overwhelmed was i
Passionate and breathless
Exhuberantly high
Impetuous devotion
For my father until i
Found myself out on the road
With tears in my eye

Poverty and desperation
I was sold to one i found
In another state was trafficked
Vulnerable and cheerless bound
Haryana state a destination
Recycled and resold
Crestfallen and subdued
And disillusioned and so cold

Respected there is little of it
Joyless dreary i had become
Downhearted spirtless and trodden
Mournful doleful i was sold
Just a chattel to be carted
Off to somewhere as a slave
And me a women of the village
In a crimson sackcloth trimmed with gold

Made to work in the hottest weather
At night for his amusement i
Divested myself of my sari’s
Blinded really to ask why
He would roughly take his pleasure
Taste my honey drag my soul
Take me from my traquil slumber
He a stormy angry troll

Irritable and far from tender
Grimness as he mounted me
A loathsome dark unpleasant fellow
Abusing to eternity
Alone with my tribulation
Disaggreable was he
A malodorous and stinking bugger
Who Then beat the hell right out of me

Split my lip and bruised my body
I would wait deep in my soul
When he died i was sold on
The tedium of my new role
A blemish on the far horizon
Disfigured by the march of time
Defeated in my desperation
Out of my own swamp to climb

A sex slave now three months pregnant
Fearful for the state of me
Shivering my nights were ffrantic
I was his exigency
His nostalgic thirst and craving
Famished i felt starved of soul
I just wanted to get away
To somehow get control

The demand for brides
Was overiding
Women of india without rank
Basically ignobled poppets
Blamed and shamed and to be frank
Lost souls in a sea of squalor
A prisoner in many ways
All ones honour lost forever
And integrity few now would raise

The principle of the iniquitous
Sinful side
Just one life and left for broken
Which all the family had denied
The slippery slope the immoral passage
Took this virgin’s sweet perfume
The enormity and depraved consumption
Closing down my painful womb

Abandoned by those sickly sex craved
Self indulgent thugs whose song
Wallowed in my silky softness
Mortifying all along
The wolfishness forever drooling
The hallucinogenic place to be
Bathed in light my maidenhood
Still part of my morality

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *


HTML tags are not allowed.