Over two years ago, on the night of December 16, 2012, a young woman who later came to be known as Nirbhaya was brutally raped in the streets of the national capital.
‘India’s Daughter’, the BBC documentary that revisits Nirbhaya’s story, brings back horrific memories of that atrocity.
While India was swept by a very vocal and visible fury, this young woman was immersed in a much greater battle in a New Delhi ICU bed, a grim battle for survival.
Did she blame herself for staying out late that night? Was she aware of the national outrage? Had she survived, would she have forgiven the culprits? No one will ever know the answers to these questions.
Here’s an effort, in the form of a poetic tribute, to retrieve the lost voice of Nirbhaya.
Uprooted, yet breathing
Soft hands clutched my roots with affection,
A gentle touch cushioned me with tenderness,
Varied colours, fragrances engulfed my presence,
The battle pitch seemed tough, but I was up for it.
With each dawn came a sweet prayer of dew,
Cheerful blossoms spread sparks of envy,
Radiant spirits intimidated me,
Outstretched my neck, I aimed for greater heights.
Kind hearts graced me with gushing purity,
Countless withers and blooms were captured,
Sunshine patches made me a budding star,
For nature began to respect me.
Sun-kissed winds brought endless smiles,
Love-dipped water nurtured my soul,
Each day I saw life, each day I saw death,
Yet pride, honour and respect grew ten fold.
Life seemed blissful, till destiny played foul,
Mankind’s fury bloodied my world,
With grit I tried to hold my roots strong,
But defeat had its the last laugh.
Pain ripped through my heart as I lay motionless,
Wicked smiles morphed open clouds above,
Fragile, teary eyes sought bright light,
For blemished darkness left me uprooted.
My perplexed soul struggled to find a saviour,
With excruciating agony it fluttered its wings,
Though orphaned, its fight oozed incredible valour,
My eyes closed forever, yet I keep breathing.
