Dedications To A Girl With The Glasses 3 Or, The Nights She Made Melodramatic Overexpressions Poem by Souren Mondal

'But man trust me I did not lie.
I don't even remember whether I used
the word rape. But if you are saying
it then I trust you. That was over-reaction.
I admit. Actually, I have spent so many
fun moments with you that auch PETTY things
I can't remember.'


'm nt pure suvo.nthng cn make me pure again
my body n soul was raped.do u undrstn that?
do u? ther' mark on my arms thigh all over...
nobdy wl accpt me.nobody'


'Ok I still believe that nodbody will love me.
And I'm not pure. That mark on my arm faded of course. And that was done by force
but not rape. So ya, I gave a MELODRAMATIC
Over-reaction'


Three messages sent by the same girl
who wore the glasses,
Talked with me when it suited her,
using me like a dustbin to dump her
melodramatic over-reactions
while using others
to quench the thirst of her body!

Why are you so melodramatic?
Even about issues that are so sensitive
as this?

One of your melodramatic over-reaction
was good enough to send me into a
frenzy of madness.

I cried that night for you,
And the subsequent days never meant the
same again.

Lost somewhere amidst the abyss
of your pains,
of your broken self.
I stood up for you,
Replying to your messages late at night,
Or early in the morning,
Soothing your teardrops like a mother
soothes her weeping baby,

I listened to all your stories
and trusted you like a baby bird
does,
when her mother throws her off
from a high cliff...

I knew I could fly with you.
I knew I could believe that you'll have my
back.

But you always ran away whenever I needed you,
Turning your back on me,
Manipulating our conversatioma
Talking about yourself and yourself
only.

You said you were raped,
and then somewhere down the road
contracted amnesia,
calling your statement 'petty' one,
A mere 'over-reaction'.

Do you even know or understand
how many women everyday,
in every country of this big beautiful world,
actually go through such trauma and torture?

Their voices silenced,
Their bodies ruined,
Their minds devastated,
Scarred for ever!

Did you have no conscience?

Did Nirbhaya's Ghost not haunt you,
when you speak such a hyperbole?
Or,
You are just like this?
Willing to go down to any extent
just to receive attention and
maybe,
sympathy?

Do you know about the girls
captured in Boko Harem,
Do you know what it is to
be a woman in South Africa?
Did you ever read about Lucrecee?

Does none of that come to your mind
when you 'over-react'?

What heartless, cruel, human you are?
Or,
Maybe you are just an android
devoid of emotions and any conscience? ?

Self-centred, selfish, pathetic woman,
Woman filled with apathy,
Do you not connect with the pains of
millions and millions of other women,
who have to go through the horrible
experience,
One, that you call with extreme levity
a mere 'over-reaction'?

What narratives do you conjure to suit
your own means,
Sometimes to capture the attention of
some fat college professor,
sometimes to enchant some Rudra,
sometimes to make a slave out of a
Sahib...


Nymph with spectacles
Do you really think that no one will
ever see through your lies?
That no one will ever do the same to
you that you had done with many?

Life goes around in a circle,
And one day when the moisture of
your womanhood will evaporate,
And your pretty face will be filled with
wrinkles,
None will fall in your traps,
No one will show sympathy for you
and your lies.

And your own lies will eat you up
like worms,
And your dark, sinister heart
made out of charcol
will turn to dust
And there will be in your womanhood rust.

And that day no one will lust
after you,
no one will look after you,
I promise you fair maiden,
You will read your own tales,


Yourself you will find in pages written
not by a jilted lover,
but of a man who cared about you
more than many,
if not any,

And you will find how it is easy to play
games in your youth,
When you have beauty to atrract,
But die a slow, lonely death in your
Old age,
with grey hairs, and wrinkled skin,

And before that you will find out too,
That not all men are as fool as
your young victims.

The grave disrespect you have shown
towards the women, who actually suffer,
Women, who actually have to fight
battles tougher than the ones in the
Warzone,
will one day haunt you,
For remember fair maiden,
Maiden wearing the glasses,
Everyone believed the shepherd
until the day
He actually spoke the truth.