My soul gets raped

                                  "My Soul Gets Raped"

Oh! Look a fair sex is born,
fighting the womb but loosing the corn.

She is squeaking like never had,
convulsing of pain or worldly fad.

The infant was to be all cheered,
but the sex made it  all sheered.

The kins started clicking their tongues,

as if any dirge was sung.

See their faces they are elongated,

looked like dead ash was blackened.

Toddling and toppling now she starts,

but is startled of arrant remarks.

True it is she is not raked,

but in the broad daylight her soul gets raped.

Oh! Look she turns sixteen,

dreaming her new life in the college canteen.

She can't gad, she can't wad,

world becomes concerned from what she is clad.

Her toddling has now given to waddling,

leave the lads, even gaffers are paddling.

Everyone becomes Ósho' in their preachings,

when it comes to her celibacy breachings.

It becomes her order of the day,

to hear remarks not to cross parent's bay.

No carousing, no blabbering,

she must be the epitome of sobering.

True it is she is not raked,

but in the broad daylight her soul gets raped.

Oh! Look she enjoys silver jubilee,

knowing not how life will bowl out googly.

She has lived a part of her life,

now the time has come to be a wife.

The whole new stage, the whole new act,

people will judge from her tact.

She is displayed off in the market,

as if the bidders want her in their closet.

The nose is a bit wider,the eyes are shrink,

people can't bear her cheek's crink.

Finally she is sold off to highest bidder,

with whom she has to be without any libber.

True it is she is not raked,

but in the broad day light her soul gets raped.

Oh! Look she starts her new innings,

now no one cares of her upbringings.

She can't guffaw, she can't scream,

she can't even eat before her bidder's seam.

She wears bangles, she wears anklets,

a chain in her neck becomes worthy of her mate.

She is the mother, she is the in-law,

but who is she does anyone draw.

No more ambitions, no more desires,

She remains a being with sacrifice's attires.

She does not rue, she does not whine,

the whole of her life she only rise and shine.

True it is she is not raked,

but in the broad day light her soul gets raped.

                                                                          By-  Rohit Raj