Satyawati -01 Poem by Unnikrishnan Sivasankara Menon
Satyawati -01
The Violation
It was getting dark
And Sage Parasaran had just left
Having sated of my body
The whole of which ached.
I was stark naked; My clothes
Lay by my side in shreds
How many times he violated me
I had lost count.
It was no longer my body
I looked at it and shuddered
As if seeing it for the first time,
I felt impure.
I wished to hide from myself
And from the whole world.
I wanted to reach home!
Home? How do I face father!
Immobilized by pain and fear
Tears flowed down my face
Like Yamuna in Shrawan.
How do I reach home until dark
My clothes in just shreds
And body visibly bruised
From his lustful attack.
The day had begun
As pleasant as any other
Father asked me to man the ferry
Until he was back from fishing.
I had my first customer
A sage with graying beard
'I'm Parasaran' he said
'Take me to the other bank'.
His eyes on the curves of my body
My clothes too little to cover it.
Though I was just twelve
I was used to ogling eyes.
'Matsyagandhi' he called me;
Of course, I stank of fish.
I lived fish and I breathed fish
For I was a fisherwoman.
From his eyes fondling my body
His hands took over.
My protests were of no avail;
He was much stronger.
He guided the boat to an isle
In the middle of Yamuna
Uninhabited,
But rich in flora and fauna.
He tore my clothes into shreds
Forced upon me and tore me apart
Repeatedly, not allowing me to have
Even a drop of water.
My cries nobody heard in the wild
Of the isolated little island.
Ever So Very Heart Felt! ! ! ! ! I am Ever So Grateful You Are Sharing This Here With Us! ! ! ! ! I Had Not Heard Of It... Very Heart Touching And Powerful! ! ! ! ! Can't Put No Numbers.....That....
Thank you Becca. Kindly read through the entire story.. I am yet to complete it. But, shall try to, asap.. Obliged!
2) That memory was painful enough, but after reading your poem, I found out that her mother had died just last year of a broken heart. Despite my great sadness, I commend you on this outstanding piece of writing.
Poet Menon, this heart-wrenching poem was extremely difficult for me to read. Many years ago, I was involved in organizing benefit concerts for Sick Kids Hospital in Toronto. It was all in memory of Kayla Klaudusz. She was a three old who had been raped and murdered by one of her neighbours.
So visually perfect, it rips the soul as we encounter man's inhumanity and the savage cruelty of men that are worse than animals. An unforgettable and painful tragedy put into words that can forever be remembered
Reverred Poet Olga Tinina writes " how scary the world is, where there is pain and suffering, how vulnerable a little man is; it's easy to mock him! your poems make me think; your poems are very different for me and it's amazing! " Thank you Olga. Obliged
What a story.... one so real among many women around the world. As time would allow, I plan to continue to read. Keep it up. You've been busy writing, I see! ! 100++++
Hi Jeanette, Thank you for visiting my page. Please find time read the series and favour me with your feedback.I look forward to your words! !
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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12/5/2025 11:13:36 PM # 1.0.0
You have described that poor child's reaction to the horror done to her very well... which is to say, my soul cringed deep inside me and my heart broke for that innocent child and my wrath grew with each word till I want that beast captured and destroyed and I'm usually such a mild and meek person. A stunning write and I have been waiting so long for your gorgeous rich tapestries in these remarkable poetic epics. 10 thousand 10s. And a fav listing. .
Hi Susie, Thank you for reading this poem and deeply obliged for writing the comments. This first part of the story was not easy to write at all. I had made up my mind that this is what I was going to write. But words refused to take shape; for many days. It was a penance for very long. Then, when it started flowing, I completed the first part, may be, in 15 minutes. And then I posted it on ph, without reading. But when I start to read it, my heart misses a few beats... is this written by me? ? ? ! ! ! I have a shiver through my spine. Susie, immensely grateful to you for prompting to share the experience with the readers... Your appreciation make my day! ! Obliged. And a trillion thanks for the ten thousand tens..