Juggling amidst the chores- confronting all the taunts.
It bruises her esteem, dignity- what’s that she wants?
Trapped in a place- an incognito designation.
No quotation to her life and laborious contribution.
The terror of hierarchy omnipresent-social taboos&myths-
perpetuate as long as the sun lasts; she waits for a glimpse of hope-
in the interstice between rationality and hampered filth-
of the “so-called castes” above her- she just can’t cope.
Of all the lamentable practices; evil exists.
Emancipation might be a choice- only if one is resilient enough as to resist-
the torments laid down by the so-called “superiors”. She still strives hard-
only to fill her little one’s stomach!
So she stands strong and stands tall.
Irrespective of the quotidian discrimination,
considering each dawn as a pristine rise or fall.
Persistently tasting grief without a mention. |
