Not a weak doll!

“I was barely sixteen,” she said

“when they threw me on his bed!

I trembled and cried with fear

when that portly man came near!

But they had no mercy, not even he

I tried to struggle and break free!

That night and for the next few

How I survived I have no clue!

He told me he had paid a huge fee

As he violated me with great glee!

My cries, my pleas fell on deaf ears

It felt as if I had grown in years

He slapped me and bit me all over

my breasts, lips, thighs and shoulders.

It was a terrible, terrible time for me

He was on a crazy lustful spree

My cries of anguish and pain

Did something to his sick brain!

It fed his lust to see the blood stains

Each time he enforced his claims

When finally after a week he was done

He threw me to another three for some fun!

He sat and watched and cheered then on

Till the dark day and darker night was gone!

Then I was carried here, where I now live

And each day, of my flesh and body I give!”

She said arranging fresh jasmines in her hair

and stared at her reflection as she sat in a chair.

“It’s been thirty years since then

I’ve had many lovers, many men!

All loved me; many said that I’m their life

But not one who wanted me for a wife!”

She laughed as she lined her eyes with kohl

and darkened near her red lips the pretty mole.

‘Don’t you want to get out from here?

Doesn’t all this break you year after year?’

I looked up from writing in my diary

at her youthful form still hot and fiery

and asked her as she draped a pretty saree.

In her eyes I saw a flash of pain and a plea.

Suddenly she laughed loudly at my concern.

“This is my life until I end up in an urn!”

She said distinctly slipping on bangles

And silver bells around her pretty ankles.

“Babu! Now if you’ve finished asking

I need to hurry and get cracking!

It’s almost time for my client’s visit

I hope, the first of the evening, by kismet!”

I stared at her perfectly made up face aghast

She laughed at me and spoke at last

“Babu! Don’t feel sorry for me at all!

I’m not anymore a weak, little doll

It’s always difficult, that first fall!

The first cut is the deepest of all!”