Pens and Pages

[ The poem is written as a tribute and encouragement to the unfortunate rape victims of the society who are fighting every day to live with dignity.  This poem is published in  Read In Park ] Never had known pain, As I do now… Never knew what grief is, But I do now… When the morning sun knocks on my window, I weep silently recalling that loathsome night, When the rays fall on my wet pillow, I wail in self pity ending another sleepless night. Every morning I look into the mirror To see the detested face, Robbed, touched, raped, I now loathe my every single trace. I had begged for help, Had cried for mercy, But no one took a single step, That night to rescue me     They jeered at my pain, Laughed at my plight, “Men” they called themselves Those beasts of that night The fear that arouse in me, I fear it may bring my death Growing day by day, It questions my each breath The bruises on my face will heal, ...

                       “Madam ji, gulab le lo, sirf dus rupaiye ”, saying this a hand clutching a pair of red roses sneaked in through the window of the auto-rickshaw I was sitting in.  It was a traffic signal at Hauz Khas (Delhi) which just turned red when the auto I took had to pass the lane. Damn it. I had to reach Katwaria Sarai positively at 10:00 am and it was already five minutes to ten while the journey takes at least fifteen long minutes.  It seemed like thirty seconds of the wee tot time I had to reach my destination, was wasted by the traffic light. Indeed, this was in accordance with the lyrics of the song christened “Ironic” which said “traffic jam, when you’re already late”. I let out a sigh at the thought of this while another hand came in through the same window, to bring me back to consciousness, importuning me to buy a toy airplane, which I was sure I do not need. I shook my head, in a stringen...

“Madam, your fare?” the bus-conductor asked the lady sitting beside me in the bus I took from Jalukbari to Panbazar yesterday. The woman handed out a ten-rupee note and got back a couple of coins.  I had a fifty-rupee note clutched between my fingers to give to the conductor. Although, the fare is only seven rupees, I did not have any other notes of less value with me that day. To my surprise, the conductor moved on to the next seat to ask for fare without taking mine. Perhaps, he confounded that I had given my fare already.  Undoubtedly, I was delighted by the fact that I had my seven bucks saved and I could spend it on a candy bar. But, deep within me, there was guilt that I was doing something unjust.On one hand I was euphoric that I had deft enough not to let anyone know that the reason of the smile on my face was that I was travelling without a ticket. On the other hand it made me feel debauched as I was entirely aware that the conductor forgot to ask me. Considering my ...