By Sharvaree Bhalerao
A daughter born
The skies cried as they shook,
The skies wailed as they shattered—
A daughter born,
A daughter of blood & bones,
A daughter born, hide your sons,
A daughter born, forgone views.
She stays! She lives! She was chosen to breathe!
All the sons are dancing now.
“We have a wife!”
“We have a maid!”
“We have a life!”
The skies opened their arms wide,
Streaks of gold fell through the sheets, but—
Run, run, run
She heard sounds,
“Run” they whispered,
“Run, before the wolves devour you whole.”
Raven hair strode down her back,
Eyes of brown threatened to lie,
To seduce and to try?
Or so they would say,
When they would rape a 9 a year-old child.
The men approaching now,
Salivating at their mouths–
A daughter was born, a woman is made
Broken by her mother’s dreams,
Crying over her father’s grave.
Go to class, go to work,
Go to school, go do housework.
The men are disdained,
They are chanting, they are chasing—
One hand over society, one hand in their pants,
Jerking and shaking.
“We need a wife”
“We need a maid”
“Careers are useless in the face of kids anyway”
Father sold her to him,
Father-in-law didn’t allow to breathe,
When he raised his hand,
Even his own mother forgave him.
The sky is eerily quiet now,
She begs for her God,
The sky remains empty still.
The men look at her on the street,
Terrifyingly and eyes wandering,
At a sliver of her skin.
She closed her eyes as words float from newspapers,
Delhi, Manipur, Mumbai
Kolkata, Bangalore, Delhi
Delhi, Pune, Chennai,
Delhi, Delhi, Delhi.
Run!
She heard a shout,
Resonant in her own voice now,
Run before you become one of them—
Those who pray for a son,
Those who barely bat an eye at indiscretions.
The men are everywhere,
Hypocrites and bigots—
Worshiping at the dais of Durga,
Or Parvati or Saraswati or Shakti,
Only to go home,
Drunk and heady.
She is modern! She will leave the city! She was chosen to study!
The men are around her,
Laughing, pointing, and judging,
“Why don’t you act like a girl?”
“Why are you so sensitive? Learn to take a joke!”
“Your life will only have meaning after marriage after all!”
The men start the hunt,
First, they go after the mosques, then the books,
Erasing history one page after the other,
Exploiting religion one village after another.
Students hang from ceilings every day,
But they get offended when a woman makes a joke.
The skies were closing in now,
Clouds hung on the horizon,
She must run before another daughter was born.
A tear streaked down sky’s face,
She gasped as she realized she had lost after all.
Men caught up to her,
Another daughter born, and another one failed after all.
This is amazing,I’m out of words Sharvaree😶😶😶
If it’s one poet to take inspiration from, it’s her. The pain of being a woman in Delhi echoes loud through media but the loudest through this poem. I love the repetitive use of run, the personification of the sky, and the painting of India as seen through a woman’s eyes. She hasn’t missed a single detail, and every stanza has been written from the deepest part of an empowering voice. Beautifully written meri Jan meri Shona, never stop making a mark in this world one poem at a time.
THAT’S MY GIRL🥹
Nothing but pride flows through me as I read this piece written by someone close to me. Capturing both the reality of being a modern woman with hopes and dreams, while also touching on how women try and fail over their lifetime as society holds them down. Change is slowly rearing its head, but has too much collateral damage than seems fair. Enchanting piece of literature indeed.
Simply exquisite. So grounding, raw and truthful. Hits you right to the core.
This is one the most amazing literary piece I have read in a long while.
Love the author, BIG FAN ❤️🙌