Stop Not These Tears… Poem by indira babbellapati

Stop Not These Tears…

Rating: 4.9

do we have the right
to be called human
just because we know
how to conceal our nudity?

do we have the right
to be called human
just because we can
translate our gibberish
thoughts into meaningful(?) words?

do we have the right
to be called human
just because we mastered
the art of standing(?) on two legs?

whoever named this natural
instinct all living organisms share
as love?

how misplaced is the emotion!
how misinterpreted is the emotion!

is it love if it craves so much bloodshed?
is it love if it doesn’t allow a young girl
her freedom to grow?

is there no way the young girl
of today be saved from the brutal
clutches of ‘love? ’

to call these brutes animals
would make the animals rebel
animals don’t know how to
muddle themselves and kill their own
in the name of ‘love’

o, god i humbly pray to you
please, please save this species
from ‘love’

o, god
save our young girls from
the maniacs on rampage
in the name of ‘love’

lacerated young bodies
acid hurled faces
no longer can i see

no longer can i stand
witness to a young girl’s
body axed and shredded
to innumerable pieces

o, god
please save us
pleaser save us

Attacking young school and college going girls with acid or axe or knife has become the order of the day. Yesterday was another incident where the maniac barged into the house and killed the parents on the spot and axed the girl for she refused his advances, in a small town- Rajahmundy in Andhra Pradesh, India. Each of these words are borne of my tears and flowed as tears…which proclaimed that there’s still something of human left in me…I don’t want to wipe these tears. It’s the way I pay for my guilt at standing a passive witness…let them flow…n fl…ow…and cleanse me and if they have the power, the world too!

Stephan O''Rielly 23 June 2014

As the infant learns every nuance and inflection in the spoken dialect of their parents, so too do they learn the cultural behaviours, to perfection, and it becomes their reality. in one land of peoples, nude beaches are the norm, in another, the woman is entirely covered except for slits for the eyes, and if a man so much as sees a bare arm, he is deeply affected. In some land, a woman who marrys against her fathers wishes, is subject to stoning. Once, in California, road rage was all the rage. It is like the birds, who when one of them discovered how to peck the coverings off of milk jars delivered to homes, it caught on like wildfire amongst the other birds. And so the rejected male, has learned this behavior to release his pain of rejection. Who is to blame? Has society been altered, where the tradition of parental involvement in finding matches has been abandoned, to leave the youth to their own resources in finding a partner? It is easy to express outrage, but a solution may need some study of uncomfortable details.

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How pathetic. I see that this is poet's burden. One cannot carry it long one must let it out. Society must learn how to live peacefully.

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Prince Obed de la Cruz 03 March 2010

wow... i don't know why but i think that i want to cry... nice write

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Pradyumna Jyotir 02 February 2010

M'am i can understand your rage...your anger....even i feel the same...Please read 'For Ruchika' and 'vow of Silence'

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Dr. Ratan Bhattacharjee 02 February 2010

You have given voice to silent anger of the society. Your anger will inspire a good many of your readers. You may read two poems of mine on Haiti. Loved to read more of your poems.

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Such atrocities continue in our country till this day! All in the name of love

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Deep Paul 31 March 2018

Really thought provoking.Good Work.

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Very Pathetic situation Indira garu! All language movies made 'love' sacred and it has become worse than HIV virus and spreading all over the world. Moving poem. Thanks.

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Venkata Lakshmi Narasimharao 19 December 2015

It depicts the present society in its true colours.It is not love but it is lunacy.A highly thought provoking poem

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Kim Barney 23 March 2015

Whoa! Such behavior cannot be tolerated! I hope they sentenced him to be chopped up into little pieces.

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indira babbellapati

indira babbellapati

visakhapatnam, india
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