RAGS STIFLING MY VOICE, I CRY.
Rani was 12 years old
Her mind painted in wonder
The child like chuckle that creased her eyes
The eyes that widened with astonishment
But on that day they widened
But with fear.
Sweat greasing her brows
She pumped water for her family
On that morning
She wouldn’t remember
If it was raining with sorrow
Or if it were shining with the mellow sun
She wouldn’t know if the birds were speaking to her
If they were whispering strength for her to run
She wouldn’t remember.
She simply won’t.
This 12 year old
Instead of remembering the bright morning
And her brain whirring with ideas
And reminding herself
Of the fascinating things she would tell her mother
Pumping the water
With her head above the clouds
This 12 year old will be haunted instead
With the rushing of her heart
As he held down her hand by force
The pounding she felt in her neck
The goosebumps racing and competing to fill her with shock
And with the beating of her heart
Getting louder and louder
The noise failed her
As the silence teased her into submission
She woke up
The grass was still green
The sky still blue
But the air reeked of fear
And of her sweat
It looked like her home
A typical hut
She wondered if this home hid secrets
For it looked too ordinary to hold the monster that stole her
It did hide secrets
The whispers were too loud
The walls too thin
They were selling her.
Like a cloth to drape oneself with
They were selling her
The help came then
And then she changed from being sold
To being loved
From being an object with price
To a girl with a beating heart
So fast that the world heard her plea
And when she reached her parents
They hugged and then the world heard
Heard the hearts beating so heard
Straining with happiness
Healing the wounds that fear has brought
The torn strands of the heart
Now holding on to the stronger
Like creepers growing in the ventricles.
Nandhitha Babuji is a 18-year-old aspiring poet from Tamil Nadu, passionate about using her words to show solidarity against children’s issues.
