Tuesday, September 25, 2007

Sometimes Vicious Husband

Sometimes Vicious Husband


Broken rays of light
Illuminate shattered glass.
It was another hard night
That’s ended at last.

I watch as they sparkle,
Stained with my blood
Luminous pieces of glass-
At least when you shattered
You were heard.

Tears flow down my face
As I unwillingly retrace
I wish I could drown the pain
I pray I wouldn’t be battered again

He makes his way towards me
His footsteps heavy and loud
I tremble as fear invades me
A cry from within suddenly aloud

I don’t want to hold these hands who beat me
And hold me not to make me whole
Who use their strength to defeat me
And scar my heart and soul

His eyes scan
My mangled state
Sympathy in his tone
Designed to devastate

In one swift movement
He lifts my bloodied body
Distancing himself from my lament
He places a pillow beside me

I look at his face
His features-
Twisted in animation
His words are calming
Aiming to erase
All my anger, hate, intimidation

Deteriorate and die
The bond of marriage mocks me
No more tears I can bear to cry
For what this man does to me

Society says he’s my friend
Tradition says he’ll be there till the end
Through the ups and downs we strive
And I wonder how long I will survive

He brushes my hair aside
Holds me gently, sits down beside
I stare at the face of my lover
My savior
My friend
And sometimes vicious husband

Push Banerji.

7 comments:

rahul said...

thats some really deep stuff.

kirish said...

hey hav always loved ur poetry, all dis is really deap . hope 2 gt a read smthin lighter n happier also

Kriti Malhotra said...

:) awesome one!

~~lily~~ said...

nicly put

Ragini said...

The worst thing about domestic violence is that we put up with it, forgiving so easily our fathers, brothers, uncles and husbands. And these scars never go. I wish every woman had the guts to pick up another bottle and smash it on his head to return the favour.

Ragini said...

The worst thing about domestic violence is that we put up with it, forgiving so easily our fathers, brothers, uncles and husbands. And these scars never go. I wish every woman had the guts to pick up another bottle and smash it on his head to return the favour.

Ragini said...

I think the worst thing about domestic violence is that we put up with it, and so graciously forgive our frustrated fathers, brother, husbands and uncles. But the scars never go, nor does the pain.
I think every woman should pick up a bottle and smash it on his head just to return the favour.