Reading Time: 2 minutes
An intense poem on child abuse, by Parvathy, exclusively for Different Truths.
I am a Keralite, in all pride I am a Malayalee, in all prejudice I am a woman, in all demeanour I am a mother, in all scare I am a teacher, in all modesty But I am nothing when I live here all helpless. when I find, my little girls are killed, After the thirst of lust is done with. I am nothing when I live here all helpless. and scariest of each moment, not just of strangers alone, but inside home, even nook and the corner our girls walk, so innocent. Where should I hide my girls? Where vultures, in thirst of flesh howls and they eat and later they kill. Didn't their mothers' quench their thirst, in their infancy? Weren't they taught in schools, modesty, and morals? No words flow again, and I am dead Hands do shiver, in fear, When my little ones in their younger ages, never know of the vultures around. Before, I grew into a woman. I too have been a little girl. Who knows again the pain and pang of abuse- Abuse Child abuse Sexual abuse Call it anyway! The mental trauma, it puts in you, Won't leave you, until memory fades. Better you get killed! Girls! My little ones' you aren't safe on this earth. The globe, doesn't belong us Even when we bear life Even when we give birth The place isn't meant for us And we are abused and killed. And even now, your mother too wakes nervous by midnight, when her childhood memories haunt her still, though she puts all courage, In all her demeanour to face the world in will. And humans in vulture's inner coat They dwell here in abundance!
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