Mira: Story of a Girl

“Mira,” shouted the teacher. No answer.

“Mira,” shouted the teacher again. No answer.

“Where is this girl?” the teacher asked the class.

“Madam, she is sleeping,” responded one student.

It was Class IX of a girls-only govt school in the municipality of Hinsapur. During the very first period that day, Mira had her head down over the desk. After repeated shouts, when the teacher could not bear the insult of no-response, few students shook Mira in order to wake her up.

“She’s not moving, Madam,” a student reported. Mira had gone unconscious. She was taken to the municipality hospital where she gave birth to a premature baby girl.

“I didn’t know what to do, Saab,” told Mira’s sobbing father to the police inspector, “We all were so afraid. We all were so helpless, Saab. The girl spoke only when we noticed the bump.”

Seven months ago, Mira was gang-raped in broad day-light while she was returning from school.

thursday evening

thursday evening.
dusk with a dim sun.
cool light breeze.
i depart for the airport.
as there is nobody to see off,
i quietly book a taxi and leave.

no work tomorrow.
fridays here are dry days,
as dry as the throats of
street children that hang
over car windows for penny.
i anyhow reject them
and prepare ahead
for my weekend.

the road to the airport:
well polished & glossy.
as it's almost dark now,
the divider's lamposts
reflect over the street
and displays the urbane
from taxi's closed
glass door, while city
radio mildly plays on
to my ear some
advertisement
on plastic money.

the taxi driver peeps from
the rear mirror into my eyes
and quickly looks away
as i notice his gaze.

it's windy as i step out
of the cab and move.
the human face from
the city to the airport
has changed a lot.
a certain glow has
suddenly captured
its flesh and skin.
there is an air of
wealth around,
a good number of
round hefty hips
locomote swiftly
making space
for one another.

eyes avoid eyes,
turning heads
pretend absence,
and i fly to a new city
with similar nuances.

~ praveen singhmar

Between you and I

Between you and I,
Rivers and mountains lie.

And roads and bridges set us apart.
To you, all my thoughts depart.
In vain I extend my hand to touch
Your milky hands, your silky hair.
But I know I cannot do much,
For this distance that we share.
And so I sit back and sigh.
Between you and I,
Rivers and mountains lie.

Break free the shackles that bind you.
Let love be your force, let it find you.
Come out running into my arms, my love.
To me, this day, your love you prove.
Tonight, let us not shy.
Between you and I,
Rivers and mountains lie.

You know not how so much I crave you.
Come to me and let me, darling, have you.
This world shall go on with its crap and nonsense.
Let's forget it for a while and make love immense.
Just you and I, baby, and no one else.
Switch off the lights, the noise, the bells.
Let me find your eyes and you find mine.
In darkness let our limitless love shine.
Between you and I,
Rivers and mountains lie.

~ Praveen Singhmar

Naked sky

Let us come
Out of our shells
Out under the naked sky
Let's dismiss what we
Find difficult to hold
Let go of the insecure heads
Of dark doubts of dismay
Let's uncover the masks
We so beautifully placed
On our imperfect faces
Of clowns and puppets
Let's master the art
Of bare truth
That singles us out
To meaninglessness
Of existence

~ praveen singhmar

A New Room, Not Of Her Own

After the isles and the mountains
And the woods and the water,
She's locked herself into pains.

Now she's not one but two
And moves in pair, she
Now thinks in pair too.

And while once she'd flow
Aloud all day, all night, she
Now sobs low by her pillow.

And her moods no more
Fickle; pensively passive,
They stay down to the floor.

-- Praveen Singhmar

#feminist #poetry