She was 8, she knew few things. <br />She was young, she could hardly know. <br />But she could feel what she was going through, <br />And she could do nothing. <br />Her fault was - a poor father, an ailing mother. <br />Ah! She could sell something to bring some alms: <br />The alms won’t be enough. <br />They needed a plenty. <br /> <br />And she could sell something, <br />So she sold herself. <br />Obviously against her will; <br />Her father – poor, but was he a father? <br />A ‘father’ who brought her in the world to sell her; <br />A ‘father’, who gave her in the bazaar <br />In exchange of some worthless green pieces of paper <br />That would neither cure his wife, <br />Nor mend his own life. <br /> <br />But she has to go <br />Because the word is lent, the deal made. <br />Oh yes! The ‘good’ is ready for ‘use’. <br />Her new owner awaits her. <br />She doesn’t know what he would do. <br />Will he make her ‘work’ all day? <br />Will he make her a ‘doll’ to “play” whenever he wants? <br />Will he....? <br />But see! She can do nothing; <br />Because it is absolutely her fault <br />That her father is poor, mother ailing. <br /> <br />Here comes the day, <br />The doom’s day. <br />She leaves, never to return; <br />Never to see her brother again; <br />Never to touch her sister again; <br />Never to kiss her mother again. <br />But yes she will get something; <br />She will get the humiliation she is destined to. <br />Yes she will go through the ordeals she “deserves”. <br /> <br />Her childhood destroyed; <br />Her life ruined. <br />She stands there waiting <br />For a ‘Saabji’ to come, <br />To pick her up and drive her home. <br />Her very new ‘prison’ home. <br /> <br /> <br /> <br />Swapan <br />Oct 2007<br /><br />Swapan Deep Singh<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/traffic-5/
