October 1, 2015 Poetry , POETRY / FICTION


Saheli Mitra







So it was all but one.

When all had rushed

to capture your beauty,

daring their lens on hills and towers,

It was only I, who saw you bleeding.


Your silver shine

Caressed not a peaceful heart,

Soothed not a hurtful soul,

but mirrored the trickling blood

of a severed limb of my Earth,

ravaged by bloody wars.


Terror knife knocking

at your silent slumber,

Your lost rabbit

perching on wings of a fairytale,

Singed in trickling blood of a child’s smile

ripped by some victory bomb.


So, it was all but you,

who cried as others rejoiced in awe,

Viewing a rare sight,

Daring the night,

On meadows and parks.

It was only I, who saw you crying,

Shedding tears for me and my wretched paradise,

O! my Blood Moon.











From the dark caverns of the womb to the nutritious milk of the breasts,

From the closed gates of a school to the dreamy corridors of a college,

From the demands of a fiery kitchen to the shouts of a workplace,

From the shackles of a failed marriage to the penury of widowhood —

I had always paid for my freedom.

In pain and in tears, my mother paid the doctor

to conceal my sex,

Giving me form from her grave of dreams.

I paid for my freedom to be born.

In choice and in voice, paid the father

With daily chores to let me go to school.

I paid for my freedom to study.

In sex and in love, paid the partner

To let me pursue my passions,

I paid for my freedom to follow my dreams.

In old age and in sickness, paid my son

To let me stay with him,

I paid for my freedom to live.

Oh! gorgeous freedom, flying on the wings of Tradewinds

sighing through the meadows free.

Ruffling the feathers on Westerlies

unconquerable as can be.

Dancing like the damsel flies on grassroots growing free,

Gushing down the gurgling brook

breaking the mossy rocks free.

Barter me your freedom

That’s really free,

For I paid for my freedom

To live my life free.







Saheli Mitra

Saheli Mitra is an Author, Journalist for the Telegraph, Blogger and Poet from India. Her novel ‘Lost Words’ can be purchased here.

1 Comment

  1. Susan October 01, at 07:18

    Both poems burn me as I read them. The first with the blindness of so many sets me up for the payment extracted to be a free woman. Such pain.


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