Member Poem

A bright July day,
Shimla beaming – its trees swayed,
Trotted with the rhythm of the wind,
Our Gudiya, brave and unafraid.

Walking home from school,
A familiar path, one that she intimately knew,
One where she was meant to be safe and sound,
A crackle, among greens and browns.

She froze, clutching her school bag tight,
The pleasant breeze carrying the scent,
Of alcohol and disgust alike,
Its gleaming eyes,
Dripping with vile thoughts and hunger
None like which she had ever seen in her life.

The monster, filled with darkness and rage,
Of everything dirty and filthy, all uncaged,
Released onto her, its filthy hands upon her,
Her body repulsed, with fear and utter horror.
Panic, disgust, shame and fear

Don't-please
Leave me - get away
No-no-no-no,
Let me- let me- go
I'm begging plea-

Dragged through the trees and greens,
Through forests, for escape -she saw no means,
The forests she once loved and adored,
The brown, withering leaves her resting place now.

She kicked, she screamed,
Her eyes glistened with tears,
A pencil – she can use it
Almost, she’s almost got it-
Its claws pierced through her hands,
As she attempted to bite its hands
No use- futile.
Her fate is sealed- it’s over for her tonight.

Pain, pain - the monster grinned,
Closed her eyes, maybe a nightmare it is,
It wasn't - Cruel and grim reality was it.

It stopped.

Her books lay, scattered and ruined,
Her mind losing its grip, its sight,
Crimson red clothed her body,
Its filth forever present, a residue of its unholy deed,
A filth that never left her conscious mind.

As she faded away inch-by-inch,
Her soul shook out of its mortal realm,
She glanced, at the books,
So many things left to learn,
With pain and sorrow,
She left us all, afraid and alone.

Dramatics, fake and overdone,
Sympathy and empty words,
With which she was adorned,
Promises, it would be the last,
Don’t worry- its over for now.

Days passed, weeks and months gone by,
The monster forgotten, seldom mentioned,
Its gruesome crime barely discussed.
The monster was the society's beloved,
Well hidden, taken care of,
As it grew in size, in terror and might.

A silence surrounded her, of acceptance and defeat,
In the end it was her fault,
Of being born, being created,
The biggest crime she had ever committed.

The monster – it’s gone
It won't return, for now.
One day.
Someday.
Maybe some other prey.