Dead people receive more flowers than living ones, because grief is stronger than gratitude
It’s been 2 years since it has happened in the capital,
When the dignity before hounds begged and groveled,
In winter of December she boarded a bus,
When the hounds saw her with mouthful lust,
In the moving vehicle she was raped by four,
When humanity got lost and she was thrown,
In the age of democracy eyes glared at her,
When her dignity was raped the life didn’t stir,
On road she was left among that traffic,
When no intellect aided her in capital of demographic,
She was bleeding, shivering and dying right there,
When chivalrous men refused to cover her bare,
She died, she died along with humanity,
Politics was played on the case’s gravity.
Now it has been 2 years since that case,
Nirbhaya, nirbhaya, nirbhaya was once the haste,
Battle have been going on since that December,
“Your sister was raped, remember, remember.”
And the cub of the pack was released earlier,
“He was a juvenile why does he has to suffer?”
Why did she? Why did the nation?
Why did a mother witnessed her daughter’s cremation?
Now the cub is released in the society again,
And the hem of the mother is grieving with pain,
With his face hidden in news and shows,
“He should get a fair chance, let’s help him grow.”
The act have stated the obvious at last,
The price of a Rape is another chance to blast,
When the mother was convicted for protesting in peace,
When the daughter was raped for boarding a bus in need,
The game of politics was played in teams,
The reward of Rape is, 3 years in juvenile, 10,000 bucks and a sewing machine.