Holy Yet Hunted

The biggest paradox of our time,

Is being a woman in India’s clime.

A Goddess in temples, prey on the street,

Exploited in ways that never deplete.

A creep with a phone records girls unaware,

Another in Audi stalks with a stare.

One burnt alive for a dowry’s greed,

Another raped while serving in need.

Religion and caste is all we debate,

While the real issues rot in the state.

No woman asks to be called divine,

Just treat us human — that’s the line.

So men, I ask with a voice that’s clear,

Is staring, harassing all you revere?

You crush civic sense beneath your toe,

And turn our freedom into a show.

Not all men, but far too many,

Carry that MAN, his ego uncanny.

Are men the only ones born free,

While women live in captivity?

A poisoned pride, etched year by year,

Keeps every woman chained in fear.

But the day we rise and break this chain

Your silence will echo louder than pain

Maynna Pandey