By Vinod Anand
you walked
anonymous.
another 'white coat'
another intern.
he didn't see you
he saw lust
he saw power.
he didn't hear the scream
he smothered it.
like your dream.
your moan
a lament
for so much left undone
the painful gasp
a story oft' told
of capitation fees
pawned heirlooms
and mortgaged homes.
he couldn't see
in your eyes
the light go out.
he couldn't see
the battles you fought.
his every thrust
his every touch
hot iron rods.
branding.
marking.
labelling you, woman.
an object of desire.
he tasted your sweat
of years of toil.
he caressed the scars
the blisters the boils.
he inhaled with glee
the perfume
of your death.
he touched
in doubt
like Thomas did
not checking for life
but the absence of it.
and now they scramble.
squabble and babble.
ideology and rights.
politics and strife.
dissecting your life
with timelines
drawn from lazy clocks.
they measure
his guilt
in milligrams of sperm
ejaculated perversion
bondage and porn.
not even a name
do you carry in death.
a 'medical intern'
you remain, at best.
on a steel bed
you lie.
dissected.
your wounds
mere exhibits
for legalese debated.
and you lie.
alone
abandoned
afraid
again.
but outside
they clamour
with callous disdain.
flashbulbs
bright lights.
you're a headline now
to gain from
to remonstrate,
bring out your banners
it's time to demonstrate.
you're nirbhaya 2
or is it 62?
you're just a statistic
'she got raped too'.
i stand in the crowd
like many others do
just another father.
but, i know.
i know, with you,
i've lost another daughter.