AN INNOCENT CHATTEL

Can you see that little girl
Walking on the white sands,
Strolling along the waves on shore
With shaky legs and bruised hands??

Did you see her solemn face
And those swollen melancholic eyes?
Did you notice the heaviness in her feet
And her branded hands which indicate chastise??

Did you notice her long lifeless mane
Those dead  strands of black and  gray,
And the pale sunken smiling lips
Trying to conceal the pain her eyes convey??

Alone, she strolls holding a daisy.
Which she bought from a vendor kid.
Who couldn't sell a flower since dawn
So that at least he goes with a smile to bed.

She knows the worth of a sound sleep
She knows how devastating can be a need.
She knows the cost of peace of mind
She knows how great it feels to get healed.

Coz she herself is a prisoner in disguise
Imprisoned by society's norms.
Burdened by expectations and confinements
And peripheries of different forms.

The heaviness with which she lifts her feet
Is that of fetters tied to them.
Shackles of the name safety and security
An illustrious justification of society's phlegm.

The girl once tried to catch her dream
By stretching her arm with all might and main.
But a hobble caught her hand from behind
And the dream flew somewhere as far as Spain.

Eager to flow with her gleamy dream
She rose her feet to chase the flying beam.
But forgot the little silly girl, that
her feet too waited to get redeemed.

With every effort she made to fly
And every inch she trod and paddled,
With every spark that ignited her hopes
The chains were made heavier instead.

Weighed down by shackles and bondage
And disappointed at the opportunities she lost,
The maiden now sits amongst gravel and shells
While the passersby watch a girl as cold as frost.

She now toddles along the sandy beach
Watching the treading waves on shore,
Disgusted at the fringes that confine her
Hoping to smash them one day with a loud roar.