india / mother and daughter / Pakistan / parenting / Poetry / Real Life / relationships / Uncategorized / Woman / Words that only poetry can say / Writing

Sold.

My daughter, you look exquisite adorned in red

I’m dripping in the murder of Me

We’ve bought you the most expensive gold necklace

It chokes me, burns into my skin. I am on display. I am sold.

hennaLook, the henna decorated onto your hands. So pretty – the perfect shade of red.

This blood it will not wash off. My hands are soaked in it.

I am undone.

As we place the dupatta on your head, you must look down. Submit yourself to your new Life.

I can’t look up. I will never raise my eyes again. I am bowed.

These tears, my daughter, fall because we will miss you. We have completed our duty and your Beginning awaits you.

These tears, my parents, fall because you fail me. I start my new Life at the End. Scared.

bride2

35 thoughts on “Sold.

  1. echoes of the silenced heart
    yes powerful is a great word for your thoughts
    Take Care…
    )0(
    ladyblue

  2. It’s incredible that so many people refuse to acknowledge how horrid forced arranged marriages are. The people arranging them for their own children are often miserable in marriage themselves. Why do they have such a disconnect? Why do they care more about tradition and honor than the suffering of their own child? I’ll never understand it, ever. It’s inhuman.

  3. Sometimes the words of another can sum up the anguish:

    One Moment in Annihilation’s Waste,
    One Moment, of the Well of Life to taste–
    The Stars are setting and the Caravan
    Starts for the Dawn of Nothing–Oh, make haste!

      • (It’s from Khayyam’s ‘Rubaiyat’, via Fitzgerald.)

        I imagine there’s a lot of history behind the custom of arranged marriages, based on the simple facts of survival and the economics of supporting a family. In earlier times men (stronger, more basic in nature) were the providers and women (physically weaker, the nurturers) were reliant entirely on a man—father first, then husband. Thus they became ranked on a level with sheep as mere chattels, disposal responsibilities, and tradable.

        With modern production, tools, and methods the only ‘need’ for the retention of the custom is tradition (and frozen mindset). Cui bono, these days? Perhaps Lysistrata had the answer (but with ignorant and unaccountable men this would lead to terrible violence).

  4. Beautiful blog !May your life just make beautiful things , the soul remains eternally young and tender , all you desire shall be yours, and just let the tears of joy . Happy new year!

  5. Pingback: Handmade HAPPINESS!!! | I sense, therefore I reflect

    • Thank you, Camper! It was lovely having you visit and the good energy you left behind made me smile. You have a lovely blog – there’s something very cheering and inspiring about it.

  6. Emotional ,and truthful post.Same thing happening in the Arab world daughters are been sold.l am from the Middle-East l have seen it.Human trafficking, no equality ,no justice.,no freedom for women.I hope India and the rest of the world will wake up to end these tragedies.Best wishes.God bless you.jalal

    • Yes, it is heartbreaking, especially when it’s not just something you’ve read in the newspapers but seen it happen around you.Lets hope that one day these tragedies are no longer.

      • Hope is a start, but hope needs action to make it real. While good people sit around wishing and hoping, bad people are doing bad things—and so long as nothing bad happens to bad people, bad people win.

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