‘‘Reena’’, called my maid, yelling at her daughter;
Skinny, dark and mute, running she came to her mother.
Barely thirteen, humble submissive, silently she stood;
Screamed my maid and violently struck her good.
The poor wretched girl, quietly weeping, sat down washing dishes;
Bearing the burn of the soap on her hand having stitches.
‘‘Mamta ji’’, said I pitying the girl, “She is hurt don’t you see?”
Why don’t you let her play and laugh and study?
Just because she is a girl,
do you consider her second rate?
“Oh, she is fine Bhaiya”, said she,
“It’s all written in the fate.”
“Her father was drunk yesterday “spoke she while sweeping.
“He hit her hard when he came and saw her sleeping.
Bhaiya, she must learn all the chores; he is worried,
After all, next month Reena is getting married.
By Shikhar Chawla
Shikhar Chawla is a development communication practitioner hailing from Ajmer, Rajasthan