A crushed flower

A crushed flower

I feel fear.
I fear my present.
I fear my identity.

Remember Ma, how you used to say
I am your little flower-
who spreads her fragrance
in the garden of your life.

But now, I am crushed Ma.
the evil winds plucked me
for fun
and blew me down blatantly.

They crushed my aroma
and stepped over my beauty.
so now I lay wounded,
striving for….. a life?

And Ma when you found me-
bruised and badly wounded,
the gardener said that this was my fate
but, he hid the truth.

He knew me well
and how I could be turned up this way.
But he made friends with the winds,
making me helpless to share my plight.

I know Ma,
you always wished
a blissful life for me,
seeing me grow with my family.

And I know,
I lose my charm and pride
but Ma, deep inside, I am still the same
and I still love you.

I want to become
the way you want me to,
only if I could recover from this pain
and stand again, despite the ugly spots on my petals.

And if Ma, I perish
don’t make me another example
of a crushed flower
which got forgotten with the death of its scent.

Fight for me-
for though I am an ordinary life,
I would die an unnatural death.
And so protect me from the winds or replace your gardener.


Here winds: rapists
Gardener: government/politicians/police


This poem is about Nirbhaya- A Delhi university student, who got gang-raped on her way home and after a 13 days of struggle, she died on 28th December in Singapore, where she was treated.


4 thoughts on “A crushed flower

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