Claws of servitude

A tear of unkempt agony surfaces her eyeball. Brimming up, it spills the last pe(r)ice of sentiments that she withheld  all this while. She caresses her abandoned wounds like a mother does to her prodigal child. Woebegone but relieved. Seething but pleased. Overwhelmed but irrepressible.
She closes her eyes tight and traverses her mind over the itineraries of life that naively reside somewhere on the back of her head.
She promises a getaway to her devastated self. Arousing an uncompassionate demeanour of a vendetta , her fights are like a fugitive; waiting to be rescued but escaping the claws of servitude in a battle so personal.




Dressed in a gingham skirt and pale blouse,
The six year old set out from her house;
Unfathomable mirth escaped her lips;
her tiny stature , she thought to be insignificant
In the crammed streets outside.

Little did she know that
the wild foxes spat venom
And reeked of an insatiable appetite;
They smothered her innocence
And splurged an un-erasable filth
On her little vulnerable body.

They plucked her childhood
Like the morning flowers :
leaving the garden dull and bereft.

She stood at the bus stop
Heaving scholarly books on her hands
Her mind spinning with busy schedules
And daft unanswered questions

Little did she know that the air purchased contempt
And the growling dogs drooled grime
And pawed her with an unkindly demeanour

They trampled her teenage
Like a dying rose lying forlorn on the ground…

She made her way home
After another exhausting day at work
Her child’s voice whispering in her ears
And the woes of her family abiding in her head

Little did she know that the
Sky reflected the last breath of dusk
And the predators crept out of their hideouts.

They threatened her womanhood
Like the dark skies which obscure all light
On a somber moonless night.

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Woman with the stars.


The cold serenity pinched her taut skin and brought a crimson glow on her face.Her eyes twinkled with outlandish ecstasy on this starry night. Humming an obscure tune, she poised rather daintily on the porch. The paroxysm of the time was known but by her. The distinct howl of a savage dog ridiculed the crispness in the air. The night smelled of wet grass and the Jasmine scent that she wore.

She clutched a small ivory box close to her chest with her eyelids shut like a sated predator. The raindrops dripped in a rhythmic pattern on the cobblestoned pavement .

She essayed to open the box , her lips tilted into an uncanny smile. The ivory box snapped open and there lay several glittery diamond-like tangible lights. Like glowworms. Except that they weren’t.

With a swift motion of her hands towards the sky and an inhalation so sharp and frenzied, she locked the box vehemently.

The moonlight became lonelier as she faded gently with the stars.

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