By B. R. Gowani
We’re 50% of world’s population
But our prominence
In politics, religion, business
You can count on your fingers
Those few who reach the top
Some works for their sisters
Others are a blot
To our own specie
For dowry we’re burned
For lust we’re raped
For love we’re flogged
For resisting we’re stoned
For uncovered-face, we’re disfigured
For our religion we’re abducted
Somewhere two of us
Equals one man
Elsewhere one of us
Strips for several men
Somewhere we’re covered
From head to toe
To rot our bodies
Elsewhere we’re displayed
Almost naked in windows
To sell our bodies
Some places won’t let us alone
Alone we go and invite arrest
We’ve to be accompanied by
Father, brother, husband, or son
Even younger brothers and sons
Become our guardians
Ultrasonography outcome –
Murdering fetuses of our kind;
Almost every man has a Bush
In his pants,
Who’s always looking for WMDs
Weapons of Mass Desire
And is perpetually at war
Like the US soldier,
Yet we’re temptresses and whores
Our hymens, they want intact
Yet, their bloody loafers
Have been to dozens of places
Their desires know no bounds
But they want to control ours
And so forcefully
They mutilate our body and spirit
The United Nations tries hard
To grant us our rights
But clerics, politicians, and others
Always blockade our rights
These ingrates forget
That for nine months we carried them
Suffering pain and misery …
B. R. Gowani can be reached at brgowani@hotmail.com
Also read:
To Wail, or Not to Wail (Part I of II)
To Wail, or Not to Wail (Part II of II)