September 21, 2017 Poetry , POETRY / FICTION

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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



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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