Don't tell me her name
Published Below is the Poem Shared by Poetess Usha Kishore from Isle of Man (For the anonymous Indian women, whose defiled and burned bodies form a daily news item in the media} Don’t tell me her name. Let me cry for her, let me cry for me for I am woman born. Let me map my plagued body in bruises, in burns, in the stench of kerosene, in the fumes of poison, in the agony of a defiled soul. Let me write my body, drowned in milk; my body plucked, torn asunder from my mother’s womb, gasping for breath; my body, torn apart for sins of womb and breast. Let me write a glorious Motherland, where inglorious women writhe. Do I weep for myself for I am lost hope, beating my weathered bosom in the annals of history? Or do I write myself as Kali incarnate trampling a nation’s shame?