Cry Of A Soul Poem by Om Chawla

In the dimly lit corridors of the hospital
lurked a malefic figure-
restless fidgety in the grip of passion.
Unmindful of the eerie environ
young nurse Aruna hastened to the quarters
to change into her uniform for the day
when suddenly from behind a shadowy corner
an evil force emerged and dragged her
to a lonely corner.

What passion it was, anger or lust,
who knows what,
that turned him into a beast.
Stifling her throat, lest she cry
he infringed her modesty.
With her senses numbed
she sank into oblivion.
Like a loath, she lies ever since
vegetative she has been since:
she- who chose
to nurse our wounds and soak our tears
with tender smile and hands of care.
Now like a loath there she lies.
She cannot stand or even stir
neither eat nor even drink,
speechlessly, in space she stares
it's all hollow, nothing is there.
' She is in coma' doctors announce.
' Alive, she is' judges pronounce.
But, let me ponder:
is she alive though not dead.
Benumbed, she is
her senses do not work.
But what of soul,
doesn't it suffer?
Wasn't it hurt when she was raped?
Doesn't it hurt even now,
as her colleagues
under the cloak of sympathy
daily transgress her privacy.
Hush hush talk all around
and looks of pity that abound,
mercilessly they hurt the soul.
'Human right' that we pride
is all sham
a matter of shame!
Soul in her body still resides
in agony it still does cry;
when will it all end?


Note: -This poem relates to the very unfortunate and agonising
misery suffered by the hapless nurse, Aruna Shanbaug, victim of sexual assault who lapsed into state of 'coma' and remained in that tortuous condition for 42 long years. Initially Supreme Court denied Euthanasia in her case but subsequently permitted passive euthanasia.