CAP photo
By
Poornima Laxmeshwar
It’s a beautiful world!
She trusted him with his womb
Which sprout a seed into a sapling
The roots were gripping the soil
The tree was in making
He abandoned her realising that
The name wouldn’t be as botanical as
Other plants, it would resonate him
Would it be the same if she were married?
In a land so full of festivities, her first
Would be rejoiced; prayers and offerings
Laced with celebrations would light up the
Streets; families would visit temples seeking
Blessings from idols – mute and indifferent
But…
She dragged her womb seeking a shelter
Her family tree cut her from their barks
Leaving her as dead as a log
But the sapling was growing within her
And all she yearned was for a rain
A monsoon that could rescue her
But month after month the wait turned heavy
Clouds hanging as lofty as his promises
Just when the thunder cried on behalf of her
The sky as lonely burst into drops
And the earth cracked open to eat her pain
The tree came out in search of light
Still clinging to her, in flesh and blood
But her 17 year old body was meek
The tree breathed its first on the road
Smelling the dust of the city
The rot of piled humanity
Discovering darkness
And darkness
Darkness alone
This poem is an ode to the 17-year-old girl who gave birth to her first child on the streets where she was not helped by the health officials even after her pleading for the same. Given the fact that India celebrates the birth with such pomp and show, this incident is as inhumane as it can get.
Poornima Laxmeshwar
Poornima Laxmeshwar resides in the garden city Bangalore and works as a content writer for a living. Her poems have recently appeared in Counter-Currents, Different Truths, Indian Cultural Forum, Narrow Road, amongst several others.
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