What follows is inspired by a work of a close friend.
Shloke Lal, thanks for asking me to write on this subject.
Sadness weaves the threads
of this tale
When she opens her eyes
fragile and pale,
Mourning fills the air
there’s no joy
Oh why, why is she not a
boy?
He cursed the fate for its tragic plan
He is not yet a father, he is just a man,
A man whose name will fade away
What sadness befell on this day!
As dreams are dashed, frayed and torn
He prays to god she was never born,
Blind to the tears of her mother who cries
Afraid of his wrath, guilt in her eyes.
He looks in her eyes with
lingering sorrow
Afraid of what lies ahead
in tomorrow?
A ray of hope is the birth
of a son
What bliss at last he is
blessed with one.
In his father’s warmth the
son is wrapped,
The girl is shackled, forever
trapped.
Brilliant..
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