Home

When I learned how to walk, I complained

I am restricted of space.

When I learned how to dress,

I complained about that long duppatta

That strangled me sometimes.

When I first fell in love,

I complained my boundary is my religion.

When I started travelling alone,

I complained of getting raped

by those dirty looks and touches.

When I went to a new city,

I talked about that knife which

I kept in my bag;

instead of a lipstick or a chocolate.

I cried of my insecurity and my limits,

but when I saw her, I stopped complaining;

Instead …

I shouted about Rights, Liberty & Ambedkar,

because she was faceless and voiceless.

She was like those toys,

which work on battery.

I told her, ‘remove your purdah,

And let’s look into each other’s eyes’;

Then she talked about culture and tradition.

I told her, ‘let’s break it’.

Then she showed me those injury marks,

all over her body, which told me,

she is the property of her husband,

and  upper-caste men;

She said the only moment

she is not untouchable  is ,

when she gets raped.

I came back leaving her behind,

because I didn’t know the solution for

Culture of silence,

The culture of lakhs of  Rajasthani Dalit women.

Deepika Rose Alex

Advertisements

One thought on “A Culture of Silence

  1. heart touching poem about an untouchabe lady who is being used by the high caste but lower charactered community……

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s