The sitar plucked and pulled
\nEmits the wildest sensuous sound
\nThe impulse of emotion
\nThe instinct of devotion
\nThe pathos of predicament
\nIn pulsation i was drowned<\/p>\n
Truthfulness created in me
\nIntuition to
\nBe responsive and understanding
\nCordial and true
\nGripped by red blooded vigour
\nAnd an aunt whose intense way
\nInfluenced my being
\nOn that summers day<\/p>\n
Drugged up to the eyballs
\nOverwhelmed was i
\nPassionate and breathless
\nExhuberantly high
\nImpetuous devotion
\nFor my father until i
\nFound myself out on the road
\nWith tears in my eye<\/p>\n
Poverty and desperation
\nI was sold to one i found
\nIn another state was trafficked
\nVulnerable and cheerless bound
\nHaryana state a destination
\nRecycled and resold
\nCrestfallen and subdued
\nAnd disillusioned and so cold<\/p>\n
Respected there is little of it
\nJoyless dreary i had become
\nDownhearted spirtless and trodden
\nMournful doleful i was sold
\nJust a chattel to be carted
\nOff to somewhere as a slave
\nAnd me a women of the village
\nIn a crimson sackcloth trimmed with gold<\/p>\n
Made to work in the hottest weather
\nAt night for his amusement i
\nDivested myself of my sari’s
\nBlinded really to ask why
\nHe would roughly take his pleasure
\nTaste my honey drag my soul
\nTake me from my traquil slumber
\nHe a stormy angry troll<\/p>\n
Irritable and far from tender
\nGrimness as he mounted me
\nA loathsome dark unpleasant fellow
\nAbusing to eternity
\nAlone with my tribulation
\nDisaggreable was he
\nA malodorous and stinking bugger
\nWho Then beat the hell right out of me<\/p>\n
Split my lip and bruised my body
\nI would wait deep in my soul
\nWhen he died i was sold on
\nThe tedium of my new role
\nA blemish on the far horizon
\nDisfigured by the march of time
\nDefeated in my desperation
\nOut of my own swamp to climb<\/p>\n
A sex slave now three months pregnant
\nFearful for the state of me
\nShivering my nights were ffrantic
\nI was his exigency
\nHis nostalgic thirst and craving
\nFamished i felt starved of soul
\nI just wanted to get away
\nTo somehow get control<\/p>\n
The demand for brides
\nWas overiding
\nWomen of india without rank
\nBasically ignobled poppets
\nBlamed and shamed and to be frank
\nLost souls in a sea of squalor
\nA prisoner in many ways
\nAll ones honour lost forever
\nAnd integrity few now would raise<\/p>\n
The principle of the iniquitous
\nSinful side
\nJust one life and left for broken
\nWhich all the family had denied
\nThe slippery slope the immoral passage
\nTook this virgin’s sweet perfume
\nThe enormity and depraved consumption
\nClosing down my painful womb<\/p>\n
Abandoned by those sickly sex craved
\nSelf indulgent thugs whose song
\nWallowed in my silky softness
\nMortifying all along
\nThe wolfishness forever drooling
\nThe hallucinogenic place to be
\nBathed in light my maidenhood
\nStill part of my morality<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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 … Continue reading