With every step,a cautious glance,
A sense of being preyed upon,a constant sigh.
The crushing weight of unwanted attention's gaze,
A burden borne by women beyond compare.
A soul shattered, a heart torn apart,
A life forever scarred,a tender heart.
The echoes of her own desperate chord , unable to escape ,
A living nightmare, an eternal ache.
No attire invites,no profession deserves;
The violence inflicted,the pain that preserves.
Yet questions linger,a victim's blame.
Was it she who sparked the flame?
Seventy- eight years of freedom's flame,
Yet shadows dance with women's lingering shame.
A beacon so bright,a declaration so bold,
But women's freedom , still young and yet to unfold .
Excuses for the guilty,a lie in disguise
Injustice reigns , truth concealed,in a nation undone.
As he beholds vulnerability ,not her radiant soul,
Rape,a choice made by the perpetrator's gaze,a truth untold .
Thingkho Le Malcha (TLM) is a traditional method of communication used to send out messages across the Kuki hills during the Anglo-Kuki War,1917-1919... more
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