Being molested…

 

An old man on the street, who often winks at
A conductor, charges more than money for a ticket
A friend on bike, breaks often complaining bad roads
And a cousin, kills the innocence before it blooms
Colleague blocks the way, rubs the shoulders rough
Boss gives a perfect hundred if he gets a hug
That french beard stranger whistles as if I am deaf
His group of friends just find my trail like a pug
That uncle brings home chocolates to stroke my back
Neighbour for a mere sketch, crosses the dignity track
My brother’s friend teaches me more than history
Boy friend often wondered, when shall be his victory
And there was the policeman, thought would save
He too looked lustful, like past vengeance in eyes
Finally, after running from all, at home feeling safe
They ask me,
“What clothes you wear? how do you walk
Can’t you look down? Can’t you just not talk?
If they touch, can’t you disappear in the crowd?
Don’t tense us, three more girls and we are not proud”
I gulped it down, the bitter fact of life
I couldn’t scream, spit and not even cry
I knew, the night was falling shattering me every single bit
But I had to sleep, to be prepared for the next day’s molest

 

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