The girl behind the Pink Saree

a poem by Krishna Priya T

An edge of pink saree
Fell over her face
Without knowing the real decree
Followed the stout with a pace.
Her eyes searched for goodness around
All she found was dark walls and ground.
She didn’t know her uncle’s mind
But laughed at his big round belly,
that was the last laugh shined
Then, he laughed, with notes in his hand.

Born as a girl was the only mistake
Like a plonk she was showcased
In her mother’s womb she felt safe
Outside world was darker and mazed.
She saw her granny qui vive,
To take a prick of time ‘n’ kill her,
She was no part of school wave
Which lashed in white ‘n’ blue.
The uncle came with his ball like body
Gave her sweets with a wide smile,
Where are those sweets now?
Where are those who smiled?

The colour of the sarees changed a lot
But to her all was black
The fancy ribbons and flashing necklace
Were to her iron chains;
Suffocation of it killed her many times.
The worshipers of Mammon
Provoked to make her life a pawn
She shook her head and plunged the knife
Once twice thrice deep into them.
Ran out like a lunatic, across the street
Her pink saree slithered after her feet
Regurgitated the voice she had
Cried out loudly to the goodness around.

“I want to live and I will
In a world written with my quill
I’m a human not a cash crop
To saw, sell and make a mop.”