Rest in peace, Nirbhaya. We will not.

This poetry has been published in the anthology "She The Shakti" which can be purchased HERE!

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I can't say why - 

But have you not noticed too?

That,

Decembers...

These days..

They got colder

Colder than before

Colder than ever

colder in a different way?

It is a chill of another kind - 

Oh, it is! It is!

It pierces through you in your sleep

It travels down your spine; 

It makes you feel angry 

and helpless, 

Beyond, words can reach.

You shudder and you thank, 

Because you are alive, 

and because you could die!

And you cannot decide

To be selfish or to cry?

Or to turn your neck aside

And pretend it's still all well?

Perhaps, you can't think any more

Oh, so do I!

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But you cannot but still wonder

What if she never became

That legend, that name,

That crusader, as they say!

But then, she would still be

Sipping into hot coffee

On a chilly winter night

With friends, or just like that!

As her Mom would 

Perhaps,

Rub coconut oil to her hair

Or complain, like ours do,

When she'd get home late again!

Oh, trust her when she says,

She never asked for a new name!

But then, we gave her one!

So that we don't forget.

That -

We could still not decide

And, 

Still not find our way!

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"Rest in peace, Nirbhaya. We will not."

(In remembrance, Jyoti Singh Pandey.)

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