I was a budding star, a lovely flower,
I was sought after wherever and whenever I went.
I was loved and desired more than by my parents.
It was a credit, I felt, men’s eyes on me.
I pleasurably got wounded. They groped me
Under the pallu, beneath the blouse and the bra
And underneath the skirt. Each flesh got wounded
Erotically. I fed on the grains men scattered
On sand. Now no man is around. No flesh abounds.
I starve. They vented me out but yet haunt me.
22.11.2002
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