A cry for life

This is the seventh and final poem in the anthology of poems based on Social Evils.

I really appreciate the strength and encouragement of my blogging family which helped me in spreading awareness but as they say, the work never stops, so keep spreading the word.

Please read the previous ones here and spread the word.

The deliberate killing of a newborn female child is called female infanticide.

• Asian Centre for Human Rights (ACHR) stated that female infanticide for son preference due to a variety of reasons is a worldwide phenomenon with 1.5 million female fetuses being aborted every year.
• These measures of the governments have not been fully successful because of the easy access to ultrasonography and weak law enforcement
• The patriarchal nature of our society has caused this evil to continue for centuries.According to a report published in India Today, nearly 2500 cases of female foeticide or female infanticide take place in the state of Rajasthan every day.

I was conceived as a hope
tethered to the
strings of life
gave my mother,
two heartbeats
a moment so precious
so divine.

An unbridled joy
roaming around as a stardust
handpicked you from million
was excited to the core
about the new home
I was getting in.

A mixture of anxiety and happiness
crept in
the moment you
saw me
a speck of life
You fed me and took care of me
while my body
took form and felt alive

I waited those nine months
to be in the arms of
my creator, my father
carried in the womb
and floating in the love
of my mother

As the days grew near
the time flew by
the day finally came
the moment
so serene
so sublime

My arms stretched and ached
to be held by you
in your deep embrace
your face turned yellow
and full of disgust
when you saw my face

You were ashamed
of my existence
my few minutes of feeble breath
brought you disgrace

The softness on
your soul
felt bereft
of peace and warmth
Clouded by the patriarchy
rules of the society
you just wanted me gone

I was snatched from the womb
the cord of life snipped
born as a gender
not chosen as a boon
My cries and screams
were stifled
I was numbed to the core
too early, too soon

Those fingers I longed to clutch
by my little bony self
those fleshy fingers
were busy scraping
the earth in the backyard
getting ready
for my burial.

Photo by Omar Lopez on Unsplash

To know more about this social evils please click here

Following are the links to the previous anthologies I have published

Seven Deadly sins

The Five Elements

Life Cycle of a poem