Wading in the dark, I smile at the pink moon,

Moon glares and wishes she had eyes to close, sigh! You are not as lucky as me.

I stretch my hands to grab the torn pink shawl, which my Amma told

‘This will make even the beautiful envy.’

But now her favorite pink petal lies in her husband’s favorite, red.

Will Appa say those words again

‘Red Suits you my doll.’

Torn, bruised, and lifeless like the doll which her father bought for her,

She gasps, My appa’s princess lies in a red pool!

Will my appa love red again?

The day I tore down the darkness and the world patted on my pink blushes,

‘Oh Girl, you will make us proud one day,’

Here I am, barely draped with my elegant pink sobbing in red, ‘Am I still your pride?

Nevertheless, I have lost mine!

The night has set its watch on, and my Appa’s favorite princess in her Amma’s favorite pink walked, staring at her favorite white moon.

Her eyes colorful, lost in the pink world she is going to live, dancing and singing all by herself.

She was the most beautiful woman, she thought, loved by everyone!

But was I wrong?

Yes, the beast found her beautiful too!

The beast, which wanders on the dark nights, came with his carnal appetite fuelled by his intoxicated rage.

She thought it was a bad dream on a feverish night and closed her eyes to let herself find Amma.

Amma was missing, and how badly she wished she never stepped out of her Amma’s womb.

How happy was she in the darkness at her Amma’s womb. No human, all alone.

But She has to fight the beast now: two eyes, two ears, two hands, the beast looked perfectly human.

It threw her down and ripped her dignity borne by pink.

 She slapped, boxed, kicked, and shouted, all in vain as she became the food for the beast’s feral hunger.

Defeated.

Now she lies in open arms, hemorrhaging and mumbling,

I want death, only death.

Not that her heart was weak, but her pink world was no more colorful to her.

My tender smile slowly embraces the sleep, before I am lost for eternity, I wake up

‘If my Amma and Appa come, tell them their pink princess fought valiantly, if they still cry, ask the pink moon to narrate.

Death slowly engulfing, I smile, reminding myself of my pink blushes.

The skies, which mutely looked at me, gave up and wept and wept.

Dissolving the red and taking their pink daughter with them!

Alas! Only if the nights were safe a daughter would have been still alive.

Ps: For Nirbhaya. When I read her story, I couldn’t control the anger that took over me. How can human beings be so vile and criminal?