Really?

I

Her father

the very girl you now stand on the grave of

Who faced the ferocity in an ordeal that lasted

an hour or so

They say.

The hour I have traversed seconds of

Hating myself

For not being her 'Hero' as she wished

For now standing as a spectator on the pieces of past with so much as a goodbye kiss

For giving my hand in support for her to walk while she still crawled

Had she not stepped out, woudn't she be here after all?

For bringing her up in a world driven by lust and hunger

That gobbled up my precious

And incremented the slam piece toll by just a number.

In a diseased society where respect never walked

What was I thinking

How could it ever spare my doll?

Today they debate

How she was at fault

How clothes provoke

How the time was Rapist's hour

How she shouldn't have walked that road

Yes

The fault was hers

For she forgot she is a girl

And you are sex-deprived

For she was clad in her birthday dress

And that set erections sky-rise

For she forgot her Invisibility cloak home

And she was in your line of sight

For she would have screamed when you violated her

And to you it was a pleasurable sight.

I

The father

Of the child yet to open her eyes to the world

Of the little girl you see crawling in your house

Of the pretty princess you just dropped off to school

Of the ambitious recent-graduate ready to fly

Of the girl clad in red as someone's bride

Of that old lady sitting alone in the park watching kids play

Urge you

To either burn down your vicious lust

Or face my wrath

For if you even see my girl as yours to take

I will hunt you down

I will terminate your breath.

You put your genesis to shame

And each man's head hangs low for being one

You walk with a weapon in your pants

And she should be the one under restrictions?

Really???

© 2012 Neha Choudhry

for image source, click here.