‘Deflowered!’

She was happy to hold her hand
An Amah’s hand,
Since her fretful days were,
Towards their pyre,
For an end,
End of pains.

With her little mind still in bud,
Was thoughtful,
At the moment of leaving her
Parents;
Who were laden with rudeness of life.

She remembered the speck of hope,
In their gleaming eyes,
For,
Amah had told them that
Their angel was going to a heaven.

Witnessing an artistic hub where,
All the actors in sizzling acts,
Bounties of joy shook her a little,
Her grip got tightened
Around amah’s hand; her protector!

She was anxious secretly,
Dreaming of rich food,
Nice dress, books, stories,
Friends! But,
Not a road having no return
No return to back!

Her amah left her hand, as soon as,
They inhaled
The dust,
A door to heaven,
A dark, filthy world!

She could not think much,
Just the rhythm of dance,
Replacing her dreams,
Dusting
Bristol’s wrappers,
That trampled under feet.

Finally the day had come to her life,
Celebration for her protector,
Day of bleeding,
Beginning of womanhood,
Outset of fleshy humbug!

She had been hustled into a room
Felt jittery, like a bride in silk,
Laden with all her jewelries
She was jejune prey
For a Casanova;
In a brothel!

Deflowered!
Now,
She is a traveler in the debauchery
Life,
One of a conquest out of many,
Kibbled existence!
Slogging through estrus,
In the hands of amah,
The bawd!