Thursday, 5 June 2014

life's yarn tangled

when sun smiled at the kitchen window
the broth was cooking on a fire slow,
was the broth sprinkled with love?
she hesitated many times before the blow
was it always sprinkled with love,
was the lentils, chicken and seasonings grown
in fertile lands, was it nurtured by good hands,
did it reach here through a virtuous society,
for she had always heard,
you are what you eat;
she hesitated before the blow
is a girl, a woman, just flesh and bone
is she just a package of use and throw;
alas, it was better to be an animal
the secret of yin and yang is just a crazy riddle
for he enjoys mayhem
not her innocent smiles and care;
was that mutilated body just a piece of flesh,
no soul, no thoughts, no dreams,
just a piece of flesh?
she hesitated before the blow,
her own blood, the life that she gave
has mutilated another woman like her;
when the sun smiled at the kitchen window
her own blood pooled, dark…
she couldn't find her child anywhere,
but just another man lying dead;
the broth was boiling like her blood,
she shut all doors and windows,
her little daughter sleeping in bed,
she shut all doors and windows,
as they are no longer human
but flesh and bone to be eaten;
she shut all doors and windows.

Every other day a new rape case pops up for the media to celebrate. A mirror of women's status in the society.


  1. The last few lines so took me by surprise!

  2. This is so affecting, sreeja. There are too many cries of women that go unheard. I thought you made excellent use of repeating lines throughout the poem.

  3. Raw piece...dreamlike...surreal. Nice work!

  4. Ouch. It's good that I do not eat meat, And still this mutilated flesh chokes me--"just a package of use and throw"--I am a woman, too. What would I do if one of my own kin or even children treated women so? This poem touches everything sacred. Thank you.