Till Death Do Us Part....

The Prelude:

While going through some of my research on social issues in India, I came across this report on Domestic Violence. Violence against women is a serious problem in India. Overall, one-third of women age 15-49 have experienced physical violence and about 1 in 10 have experienced sexual violence. In total, 35 percent have experienced physical or sexual violence.This figure translates into millions of women who have suffered, and continue to suffer, at the hands of husbands and other family members. The frustration had to be vented, so here it goes....


The Poem:

“SMACK” came the first one, and she fell to the floor,
Heeding to her instincts, she got up and ran to shut the door.

Her advances were curtailed, and “BANG” came another one,
She tried hard to escape, but was gripped tightly by her bun.

Now the scene got murkier, and the beast lost his fuse,
Unzipping his pants, he removed his belt and put it to its next best use.

It went on for half an hour more, while the hooligan was in his trance,
The helpless lady was beaten up sore, sanity had no real chance.

A loss in a silly game of cards compounded by a heavy desi dose,
The frustration had to manifest itself, so the usual victim it chose.

Beaten, gagged and ravaged she was, forced to perform the pleasure act,
Oh what sadistic pleasure it could’ve been, it was a one sided pact.

He kicked the food and had his drink, till he lay unconscious on the bed,
Irony had her last laugh, she was still breathing besides him, her soul, long dead.

The Indian ways of life and the feminine strife are miraculously strange,
They see hell each living day with a smile, and shed a tear sometimes for a change.

It’s a wedding gift they say with pride, our husband’s a God, its close to our heart,
We’ve promised to bear with them, come what may, till death do us part!