You are a woman, with numerous names –
Whore,
Harlot,
Courtesan,
Street Walker,
Concubine,
Lady of the night,
Prostitute,
a sex worker???
Bird of prey -
eyed by predator pimps,
numerous numb nights
spent in bleak brothels,
flocked like cattle in filthy sheds,
Time-etched face -
worn-out profane beauty
concealed in mask of makeup
lures lewd customers
to satiate their lusty appetite
in the jungle of devouring groins.
Whirr of rickety wall-fan drowns in
cacophony of coughing customers
caricature of intercourse doodled on cracked walls
painted with betel-nut spatter stains…
Blemished ruffled bed and
stink of semen-soiled sheets
mingles with fumes of cheap liquor
and whiff of stale cigarette stubs.
Your wasted life –
a snapshot of soiled images,
a tarnished tapestry -
smeared and smudged
with sexually transmitted diseases.
sheds tears of anger, hurt and deceit
for the relics of
dreams of a dignified life…
I would rather call you -
Mother of manifold miseries
Sister of silent sufferings
Daughter of decaying despair
Wife of worldly woes!
Yes, you are still to me -
a woman with numerous names
and weeping eyes…
