By Vineetha Vinod
Men, Women, and children paid their part in making the crowd look huge,
Glorious with the silks in the sarees, gold hanging on every uncovered curve,
scentless jasmines tied in a weak thread forced to stay in place despite their weariness.
They feasted on the food, talked loudly to be heard among the music,
Looked at her standing drenched in the yellow light, layers of the yellow metal shining on her,
Weighed down by every single dazzling thing that adorned her body.
she stood there, taking the lightning flashes from the camera, still smiling.
She stood still, diligently paying heed to everything the man with the camera said.
“Stay still”, he told her, “smile”, he reminded.
The longest golden necklace on her stirred and she felt it.
“Don’t look away”, he called out.
The necklace moved in circles around her neck, shorter and shorter it grew,
Until its head reached her ear.
She still stood still, without a word.
The serpent, a golden one, this time had no deceiving words to spit out.
And she wasn’t Eve!
It stirred and stirred, wrapping around her neck, choking her to death,
As the man with the camera was shooting, as the glorious crowd watched,
Without calling out for help, without giving a fight,
She died as if in a sleep!
Do not let her die! She is someone’s daughter, someone’s sister, maybe someone’s mother, or someone’s best friend, or someone’s partner! I want her to speak up. I want her to be heard, She’s not just an instrument, she is not just flesh with curves. She has emotions. She has interests. She has courage. She has ambitions, skills whom a talent, gifts call my life. She’s a maker but can be destructive only if neglected and not cared for ENOUGH!