“Through the timeless hoary twilight,
I am unable to see light.
Can you see me?
I ask you: Can you save me,
From being lost or destroyed?
Will I be lapped by the flames
Of my own gender?
Save me from being lost or destroyed.

 

You are the witness of many executions.
You are the witness to all those dreadful sins…
When parental zeal has sparked off:
All forms of brutalities on me.
There are no mourning ceremonies,
For those who are plucked from the wombs!
No one wears black or white,
To grieve the loss of life.

 

My period is fixed to continue dying.
As I will live… I will die…
My death is not restricted to one day.
I ask you: Can you save me,
For a fragrant Spring day?
Watch me read and laugh!
For I am a flower of splendid songs.
I am your Girl Child.”

 

January 2012

                          

Geeta Chhabra