Hi….I am chhoti
A six year old
Enjoying my after life
On the red carpet rolled.

Do you know my story
The one I had on Earth?
Then come, let me tell you
Of my amazing birth.

I was born after two boys
To my mother as planned
Like a drop of rain I fell
With the help of God’s hand.

No sooner did I arrive home
I felt I was not due
My mother in full gloom
My relatives cursing in public view.

Days went by and I grew some feet
Enjoying the love , support and care
Of my Mai and Bapu
That no one could share.

One afternoon I strayed a mile
Running and chasing some bumble bees
A few young boys came after me
They shouted STOP….FREEZE!

I obeyed them in stillness
Thinking it was just a game
But they pulled me to the bush
And pinned me down to shame.

I screamed..I pushed the herd of pain
But I was too weak for their might
One by one they licked me off
Like hungry wolves in sight.

I lay there in sand and rags
My body in shivers and cold
No help came by as close
Was there no one bold?

A lot of time passed away in nil
For I could not gather and sit
Until I heard some cries of guilt
Of my Mai-Bapu and my heart beat.

In the bed at the tiny hospital
Doctors shared the news to tell
The police uncle’s who stood by
SHE WAS GANG RAPED …..oh hell?

I know not what that means
Is it some disease that got me in?
Or a game that I do not know at all?
I heard everyone calling it a sin.

A few moments that I lay by myself
I saw my Bapu pleading with all
Tears of sorrow and wrinkles of dim
My my! I listened to a silent call.

Someone held my hand
And guided me here
Into a candy land and beautiful flowers
I chased the butterflies..but had no fear………

Will you share my story, my friends?
Why did I not know the bush game?
The hidden act that older boys do
With little girls in order to tame?

I see from high up
My sweet home down there
Mai cooking dal chawal
A very simple fare.

There’s my Bapu with a glass of tea
Oh! Bapu, can you see me?
I have grown some height and flesh
I am strong as you wanted me to be.

Still, l feel sad at times
And wish to be with you all.
I wish I had a phone
To talk to you all…………….

A tiny tribute to those little girls who had no place on Earth…a warm goodbye.

Shrabanti Ray
Shrabanti Ray

Shrabanti Ray is a teacher, trainer, facilitator, mentor, script writer, poet, thinker, and crafter, possessing about seven years of corporate experience and thirteen years in the educational sector. A progressive thinker who dwells on the art of life and the several strings of life that create music. Looking out of the window is a pastime that she relishes to seek an insight within. She believes in living life to the fullest as there is no second one.

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