What Hurts Even More Than Rape




I am one more number
In India’s rape statistic
Hue and cry will be raised
Dharnas will be held
A protest here, a protest there
And then nothing…
I’ll be forgotten,
The deed will be forgotten.
Until, another unfortunate woman
Becomes the target
But what about the grime on my soul
The filth on my body, the dirt on my heart?
How can I ever wash them?
But this is not my major worry.
What will haunt me for the rest of my life is that
My tormentor will not be so much looked down upon
As I will be; that’s what hurts more than even rape.

-          NZ
23.9.2019
BN:136







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