Yes, I am ashamed.

I am ashamed
for the satire that is Humanity.
You claim to care
You claim to love
You claim to respect.
But it all ends in tumbled mess
Of broken promises.
The country where each religion
Worships A goddess.
The world where Durga and Mary
Hold their dignified stature.
The universe where bows
To touch their feet.
Crosses their hearts
By their name,
And echos in their blessing.

Yes I am ashamed,
A girl of mere sixteen.
Still unable to comprehend,
That how in this world?
That how in her country? 
Is a girl molested.
How the demons of humanity
Do not feel ashamed
Touching her, abusing her, molesting her.
Do they forget
By their each breath of pleasure
That they too have a sister.
That they were nurtured in the womb of a female,
Their dignified mother.
How can they forget?
That a time will come,
When they will father a pearl of a daughter.

I am ashamed of politicians,
When they question
The very story of the victim.
And then with burning face 
And fiery eyes I ask them
Would they have dare question
If it was their daughter, their sister
Who was unmasked out of her dignity.

I a girl far away,
Am shameful of these people.
How come you forget,
That the girl you are looking at
Is a sister for a brother
Is a precious daughter to her father.
She is a mother 
of the generation to come.
How come you omit this
Reality from your heart is above me.
How come your hands don’t tremble
And you not feel guilty
When such thoughts
Merely cross your mind.
You demons, are above me.

Being a girl even I am shameful.
How come tears don’t prickle your eyes?
The innocent girl in her zenith,
Robbed of her modesty,
Humiliated for the mere fun of it.
Shame on you,
For not bring petrified.

I am adored, from the moment,
when I was born,
For my father I am his life.
I am the colour of my brothers canvas.
Just like me
Just like every girl for her family.
The girl you commented on,
The girl you molested
Too is the life of her family
She is the rainbow
For her siblings.
How dare you
Take away her colours?
How dare you extinguish,
The flame, that was her?

I feel ashamed for the society,
Which is all about power,
Domination and position.
In this hell of a world 
The devils crawl like mouses in the sewer,
Too much and filthy,
Carraying plague of their mentality and broken morals.

Hey girl! I do not feel pity for you.
For I know like a phoenix
You will rise ,
From the ashes of your past. 
The scars will be a reminder,
Of the stories to come
Of your survival, your victory 
And remember
the battle has just begun.

Akanksha Krishnatre

On the shameful act of mass molestation on the eve of new year in bengalore.  

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27 thoughts on “Yes, I am ashamed.

  1. I feel you so much on this one, Akanksha. It is often maddening to think someone, coming from a mother, could commit horrific acts on another, robbing her/him of free will. I want to, through prayer, penetrate the layers of innocent suffering and go straight to the core of the Crime, begin to chip away at the iron mass one blow at a time.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I find your poetry to be true and heart touching, these two things can make a person sore higher than the skies above and still stay grounded. I wish you the best of luck for your future ventures. God Speed!

    Liked by 1 person

      • I have had a deep relation with the arts of writing in my family, and I sensed that you sure have talent and that fire which one should have, being a poet.
        My grandfather on my mother’s side was an Urdu and Farsi poet. Me and my brother do our part by contributing in Urdu/English song writing and thus of course got lots of original poems (mostly in English now).

        Liked by 1 person

      • We get our habits, our passion, our commitments to society all from our genes. It is pure in our heart, given down by genrations. My writing focuses on emotions of society with an impact on me. Mostly English but sometimes Hindi.

        Like

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