I know what you have to hear because of me today.
I know you love me, no matter what,
I know you’re grieving, you know not what to say.
But I still think it’s mean what they are saying about me
You must not speak ill of the dead
Didn’t their mothers teach them that way?
Or does it not matter, now that I am dead, whatever is said?
Mother, you told me, I looked lovely in that sari,
I saw dad’s eyes glisten with a confused joy,
Because in his mind I was still his little girl.
Still in his mind, with dolls and little brick toys.
And yes mother, I couldn’t tell you that it had been a wonderful function at school,
Tearful farewells and promises galore,
Fearful of what was ahead,
A life who’s journey each of us had to determine alone.
The lecherous beasts who found me robbed me of my chance,
To make mistakes and go live my life,
They said the sari provoked them too much,
Raging hormones in their body caused a lot of strife.
They gave into their desires, not thinking twice.
Killed me when they thought justice might someday be served.
Even the lawmakers said how dare I wear that sari; I wonder what their mothers wore.
And I wonder also wouldn’t the story have been same if I was in a skirt?
But justice was not served because they told I was wrong
Unmarried I was, and was returning home at dusk,
How does marriage make me invincible from such beasts?
And since it’s the sari that caused the trouble, who is to say whom I could trust?
And so my murderers now roam freely
Libidos fulfilled, they wipe the drool from their mouths,
I do not understand, their eyes turn anything to lust, and their lusts they do not control;
The fault seems to be theirs, and yet, the law finds nothing wrong in seeing me covered in a shroud.
Mother, I cannot do much to wipe your tears,
I wish I had been there longer to learn to be a better person,
It isn’t my case alone; the society always blames the girl.
So, there must be something wrong with us and hence they want more sons?