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Writer's pictureArijit Bose

#Asifa: Torn Apart

child

It’s dark and dreadful

I have died each day on streets of this great land

As I died in rather irksome circumstances

Torn apart by people who could not control that lust within

Hungry for that pound of flesh

However small it may be

Silently breathing in the toxic stares

I wanted to live

I have seen the world as a mother, a wife, a baby, a daughter

Each day I was told to live within limits

My skirt length, brastrap, body all was controlled

by those who thought they knew me well

I was always told by parents to not venture out late

For the fear of vultures who knew just the right kind of prey

I too wanted to live

I cared for the lush green fields, the sky, the beauty of nature

I chilled out with my boyfriends, smoked and drank with ease

I cared to chase butterflies who would help keep the darkness away from me

I was who I was

I was never apologetic and had zero regrets

As demons hound the innocent and meek

My soul now craves for justice

Where life seeks answers

Especially as an Indian I ask why me?

What did I do wrong

Why was I cursed

I had a life ahead

I too wanted the simple pleasures of life

For me there was no good or bad

For me all were the same

I have lived with dignity and in future to will do so

I thought of letting you know

That these words of mine are aches that I never show

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