~ Vaishnavi Varier
It was a sunny morning
But the women were only mourning
As guilt and angst and sorrow
Crippled their life for every other morrow.
It was on a similar day
That they knelt to pray
For the birth of their king
Who would never shrink
The wide and wild traditions
And the so-called ambitions
Of being the jack of all arts
And the winner of all hearts.
For their luckless fate
A girl was born who is nothing but a bait
Of the century-old custom
That stands tall in the system.
Patriarchy they say is the lord of the wild
Whom you could please with the soul of the child.
Tossed in the air was the crying infant
And the mother wept but only in silence
Because she too was the victim
Of the reckless fate that belittled
All the dreams of having a girl child.
Her soul screamed in agony
And the mother could not see this tragedy.
“What was her fault?”, she asked
To the man who slaughtered her life
“It is a bane for us,” said he
“To have a girl in the family,”
And before he could finish the mother shouted
“Kill me too for I was a girl child once”.
“Kill your mother, kill your sister, kill every other woman
But still, you will never win
For this is nothing but sin;
A sin for which you can never grin.”
The child smiled from the heavens,
With the power to kills the devils
And thus she was named Goddess,
The keeper of women and fighter of
chorus who resonated the prayers
for the sinner of the sins.
And one sunny day
The chariot of the Lord came
But this time, with his severed head
In the hands of the goddess
who proudly held
an armor of power.
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