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Why Is It Always My Fault?

Why Is It Always My Fault?

1 min 7.2K 1 min 7.2K

I ran

as fast as I could

Through the narrow streets

and dark alleys;

I somehow managed to find

a strangely empty

Police station.


I told the lone officer,

who seemed quite drunk,

About the two men

who were looking for me.

It began when they winked at me,

told me I looked like a delicacy,

And whistled,

as they began to follow me.

I persistently ignored them

and even attempted

To call the police,

but no one

answered.

They tried to touch my sari

and that is when

My instinct told me

to run.


The officer

looked a bit amused

As he took a sip of whisky

and said:

“It is past eleven at night, madam,

why are you

Roaming the streets

alone

In a white sari

that does not even cover

The entirety of

your skin?”


My relief

melted away

Into beads of sweat;

I was overcome by fear

as I felt unsafe

All over again.


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