Why my own parents have become killers of me …?

In a cosmopolitan town dark tinted glossy car in silence halts.

Smoothly, unmarked door slides softly on oily hinges and unbolt.

pallid spotless walls echo
humming of ominous machines.

Unformed within the womb,
balmy splotch shrivels at the next thought.

Rapidly, ill-omened machine affirm its verdict –> G.I.R.L!!

From deep within
a tranquil
a shriveled ,
a trembling ,
an unformed voice query…

“I’m a girl child yet to be born,
throttled are my laughs
and hopes tossed in inner storm.
Why my breast fills with pain?
And , why no songs form?
Where is mirth?
Where has kindness gone?
Why? Why? Oh God !
I ask thee,
Where is sympathy ?
Who wiped it off!
Where is compassion?
Who trampled upon!
Where is humanity?
Who tossed to the winds!

Why my own parents
have become killers of
me ,
yet to fully form?”

This poem has been shared by Mr Jagjit Chipra.


Author: savedaughters19

This is a coverage of my struggles to save my daughters.I am thank full to my parents not only for Not killing me ,but also helping me save my daughters... My dream- A big shelter house for women who want to give birth to their daughters and raise them up with dignity and self respect , but have to fight their own families to do so. Will have medical facilities and facilities for legal aid. will have training centers for vocational courses so that they can stand up on their own two feet and stop the dependency on their husbands for finances, A child care center run and managed by the inmates, A kitchen and a vegetable farm run and managed by the inmates. At present only a dream.... But with grace of God will become a reality. God will show the way and means to achieve the dream.

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