April Haiku Month, Day 20: Rosemary


a five year old girl . . .

cheeks, innocent rosemary pink,

gets raped by neighbor

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A 5 year old girl was raped in Delhi, India. I don’t have the strength to talk about the incident or the details but if it troubles you, here it is: A brutal and barbarous rape of a 5 year old. But I’d try to make sense nevertheless for I am, as always, not at peace.

The place where it happened is generally not important, because the abuse, assault, exploitation takes the precedence and rightly so. But ‘Delhi’ is the capital. and India is now ‘so much into’ these things that the place of incident is important next only to the victims themselves.
We, I, keep talking about faith and love for a nation all the time, think about it a lot. These are times when it is shaken. Rememeber what I said a few days back about boston bombing? i wantedly did not complete my opinion there, because i couldn’t take it as I was considering what it all meant. But now I see I held back for no reason. It is not only the ‘groups’ who believe in an ideal which are treat to the whole mankind, its f***ing every man in his own damn way!

I talk about faith, trust and love all the time. And these things stand to be important for every citizen of a country. Well, right now, all of that is shaken. It has never been ‘constant’ I must admit. I just tell myself, ‘maybe tomorrow’. But no, maybe I’d die being a fool who kept believing in change that never came.

click it for a better view, the text on the cards is blurred at this resolution.

With what people did after Nirbhaya incident, the protests and the calls for DEATH of the criminals, we have been seeing such things with little or no change in numbers. And consider the fact that all actual incidents of women exploitation don’t come to light, not get the media attention. Consider the suffering that we cannot see, that we cannot relate to because those stories are don’t come up.

India has always been a nation with great prospects for itself. Maybe we will end up only at that much, and never see a nation which changed itself into a true haven for humans. Of course, the world is no safe haven either. But with what India boasts about, we are a let down to ourselves. We are our own demise.

I don’t want people telling me not to lose hope, because you are not in my head and have not seen the world with my f***ing eyes. You only care when things happen.
“People need dramatic examples to shake them out of apathy” – I quote Batman again. If we are going to need ‘examples’ to make us think in the right way, at the current rate of our progress, the number of examples needed for men to change is equal to the total no. of women in this country, the newborns included.

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Warrior Woman


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Women today are exploited in every and all possible ways, which i very sad. I always said,

“We men don’t own women,
we, but owe them; and so much at that.”

They wash away all the stains from our clothes and god knows its true – and also stains from our hearts,
they do it with every reason to see us ‘unstained’.

if nothing changes and no one changes(god forbid me),
we might have to come down to this(the below poem) to see a completely free woman.
and that these happen in India, where people believe in goddesses,  hurts me so much

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she looks back to scrutinize and estimates the damage she has done.
and so it ends.


as the world did not heed the woman’s warning,
a warning that broke out from the very bowels of womanhood,
women have endured so much, they still do,
none put up a giant fight to repel the evil around,
they yet tenderly kept the evil away from time to time, not to hurt the evil in return,
many not strong enough for even that, succumbed,
strong they are, weak the world makes them,
weak they become, the world plunders more and makes them weaker,
weaker they are, and the world doesn’t stop, it plunders more,


And i am one belonging to that very world,
lying low, eyes and mind synced and understanding the unfolding rave,
i wince and moan,
i loathe men, i am one, i loathe men,
i wince and moan,
heart slows down, asking for a closure,
nay, i cannot give up, eyes and mind synced, they understand the unfolding rave,


out of nowhere comes a ragged woman,
scarred from brow to boots,
no less a warrior,
armed or not i don’t care,
there she is, walking towards me,
i won’t stop her, if she wants to end it with me,
i’d only die proud and in this way,

women were never weak,
men were too weak and vile to accept it,
but they got their answer.

she stops and looks back to scrutinize and estimate the damage, all for good, she has done,
she walks on,

her name is HOPE.
MY HOPE.

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a woman, a mother; is the strongest life-form that is(that exists).

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This post has been written for The Surf Excel Matic #SoakNoMore Contest, IndiBlogger.

Tweet me at @sankarajayanth.

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