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A Tale of Saree and Skirt

The Tale of Saree and Skirt
A tale of Saree and Skirt

Once the skirt came back home,
Crying, torn, bloody, fighting alone.
When asked about the matter,
She shouted the name with a “bhaiya” in the end.
But hell, her eyes wanted nothing but revenge.
She fell unconscious, murmuring for justice,
Wanting to fight against the culprit.
The skirt stopped playing on the streets,
School, studies, career, all disappeared from her dreams.

The saree often thinks of her playing,
Getting hurt while running.
But this time when she came
The blood was flowing from the inside.
She rushed to door, closing it with an attempt to hide.
Skirt spent a month in hospital,
Surgery after surgery and the ongoing battle.

She turned back normal,
But the scar didn’t.
Still the mirror reminds her
Of the dark day,
When her innocence blurred her way.
But the sari took over the task
To fight for the little skirt
Ignoring her own fate.

Once the skirt was sleeping
When the saree entered weeping.
She was also torn,
Scars on her body and a face, full of scorn.
The skirt connected all the points,
The Saree’s screams and all those similar nights.
When asked about the matter,
Saree couldn’t take any name.
Full of dread, her eyes filled with shame.
Saree and skirt slept together that night,
Holding hands, avoiding each other’s sight.
One was torn by the hands of a chocolate giver
And the other, by the hands of a bread winner.

So the skirt decided to fight,
And the saree went back the other night
To be torn, hurt, abused, raped
And left to awake, completely reshaped.

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Rapes in India (source- wikipedia)

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