# A Child Widowed At Eight Poem by Mamta Agarwal
# A Child Widowed At Eight
As I crossed
The threshold
Of my new home,
As a bride
My eyes fell
On a woman draped
In white…
Standing against
The sunlight,
Highlighting
Deep furrows
On her brow…
I felt embarrassed,
And overdressed.
Later asked my spouse,
'Who is that woman,
Why didn’t she take
Part in the celebrations? '
'She is my aunt,
She is widowed,
Was a child, merely eight
When she lost her mate,
Ever since she has been
Ostracised,
Portent of bad omen...
But she is the only woman
I have known as a mother,
She nurtured
And told us stories
We grew up on laughter…'
Condemned
To life sentence…
Did anyone ask
How it felt
Yes, at eight…
Did she feel bereft?
Did she understand
Why her head had been shaved,
Colourful bangles pulled out of her hand,
Light, colours, laughter banned?
I could see,
The child
In her
Had survived,
When she played
With my first born
And sang lullabys, put her to sleep
When she cried…
She had moved on…
What was gone was gone
She had not even known…
At times, she dyed
Her Sari palest of blue
Her favourite hue…
Everyone mocked,
Pretended to be shocked…
And asked have you forgotten?
No she has not, I said,
'Yes, she is human-
Now a woman.
Her heart still beats,
She has needs.
She still breathes…
Let her live,
As she too feels…
Why is she being punished?
And expected to extinguish
The spark divine?
She not commit
any crime.
She doesn’t deserve cruelty,
Please treat her with sensitivity
And some generosity.
She has not known love, motherhood.
She lost her childhood…'
I was peeved…
This exploitation and
And many questions
Nagged me for weeks.
One day, my mate
Said, come Ma pack.
I am sorry,
I delayed
Taking you away.
Tears streaming down her cheeks
She nodded, 'I am glad,
You finally asked.'
She looked at me
As if for assent…
'Give us a chance
To let you be…'
Mamta, what a sad tale, I don't understand why she was treated this way..? Andrew
Mamtaji, you have higlighted an important social issue through your touching verse! Raja Ram Mohan Roy & Vidayasagar were pioneers in trying to resolve this problem. Thanks! 10! -Raj Nandy
Mamta, You have written this with great sympathy and in a touching way. As a man I felt ashamed that my gender could invent such a beastly custom. Although I am not from India, I am familiar with this horrible custom devised by man for his own benefit. Thank you for writing this. B ob
A sad picture of an indian widow, I sow a nomber of in Gujarat, and Rajastan, They can understand by colours some maroon some blue etc, and there is a crual picture in Mathura, There are several in mate Widows, and take and dropp in the night by human vultures.Thanks for reading the naked truth.
Written with great sensitivity. This beautiful woman did not deserve her fate. 10 for your unforgettable poem, Love, SandraX
A sad story indeed but very beautifully written. Best wishes, Andrew
Mamta ji, your narration ran with full tempo, inspite of being a long poem, reader cannot miss a line or word...it is so good............heart-wrenching story........well written.
Later asked my husband, 'Who is that woman, Why didn’t she take Part in the celebrations? ' I suggest editing as above. an eloberate one, keeping interest through out. well done.
what a lovely poem..........i was reminded of a movie called water........well penned....suerly
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/1/2024 8:25:12 PM # 1.0.0.1119
mamtaji...very pathetic! if time permits, could you take a look at entry no.263 n 508 of my postings dealing with similar predicament...