I am born everyday,
Only to see my
Heart and soul burnt to ashes
Time and again,
When I hear her cries in the night’s darkness,
Where she burns amidst cackling in-laws
And heartless men, amidst notes of money.
Somewhere in the morning, I am born again,
Only to see the first rays of light
And shut my eyes once more
In the agonizing shrieks of a
Female infant.
I am born sometime, someday, somewhere,
Only to be masked with a black cloth,
And lead my silent life of painful agony.
The fire burns, in my inner self,
The fire burns in our spirit,
We women, who, in the 21st century
Face a glaring and shameful
History, past and present.
Anwesha Bhattacharjee 
gud one anwesha ji.. female infanticide is an inhuman crime.. south me its almost an industry where the infant is killed with kalli paal (the poisonous milk of a particular cactus).. lots of stories and myths around the same still exist in rural TN.. sad in the 21st century
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gracious! that\’s out right murder!
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