Am I a different girl?

An attempt to understand the pain and rage of that girl, is voice against injustice limited to big cities only ?

I was there, happy, smiling

Walking on the road, thinking

Kicking pebbles, watching

Looking the cloud of dust, blinking

Saw a bus, it was approaching me

I waved my hand, with a glee

It stopped, driver presented a grin

Into the bus I went, was it a sin

There were five living creatures in it

Often known as “human kind”, not “kind” albeit

They glared me, I was scared

In their eyes it was grim, in mine it was fear

Trespassing comments, vulgar talks,

I got upset, stumped, in corner of eye it was a tear

Soon their talks got intense, all dirty, non sense

I soon realized something bad was going to happen

I started shouting; I thought it was a weapon

But it was a secluded road, no one to hear my voice

I rushed to the gate to jump, I had no other choice

But the beasts then showed their real face

Rushed to me, one threw me on the seat, others were at a chase

I cried, I tried, and I fought, all in vain

Was witnessing hell, was enduring pain

They were beasts with dirt in mind

And I was regretting on being human kind

First, second and third, then I was unconscious

Blood and tears, pain and cries, gloomy and lugubrious

They threw me on the road, to hurt, to die

I found myself in hospital under hue and cry

In a day or two all were normal and casual

No one bothered for my justice, punishment for the cruel

Martinet my destiny, I am not from a big city

Not much of people are aware in my vicinity

No media houses, no women welfare societies for me

No one took a stand to fight, to listen to my plea

Tears in my eyes, and hatred for all, known or unknown

I now can see around me everyone is a clown

Hiding its real face, hiding the real intentions, fake worry

They raise voice just to be famous, no real regrets, no sorry

I am a girl of small village, I am vulnerable,

They found me an easy target, weak and feeble

No one asked whether the guilty got nabbed,

Under political discussions and sixes of IPL, all are grabbed

I am alone, fighting the stigma, rising, wiping my tears

To face the world again, to face my fears

I will fight this all alone, no matter how long it will

Just a small request to all the inhabitants of my great nation

Don’t call yourselves conservators of great cultures,

You are just the scavengers, the wild vultures

Eager to eat the flesh out, you enjoy one’s shout

Keep with you your fake care, fake furry

If possible, just in your heart, feel a little sorry…