Marital rape

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Marital rape is a serious crime. Yet neither the law, nor the society has tried to address it with complete justice.
Shirisha Pothapragada has written the following poem, capturing the emotions of a woman stuck in an abusive marriage. The ending of the poem to be is the best part, where she finally makes a choice.

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I had looked at my wedding ring,
And rejoiced at what the future would bring.
I was terribly unaware,
That I had walked into a nightmare.

It all started with a vicious look;
He had noticed an unbuttoned hook.
In company, he would hold me and smile,
An expert in hiding all his vile.

Once home my first lesson I learnt,
As my body he slowly burnt.
He would lock the room door,
And throw me on the floor.

Into me he’d empty his seed,
And say a baby is what we need.
He would feed me day and night
Till, of my beauty I lost sight.

But I set aside my fears,
And let him wipe my tears.
In his love I started to bloom,
And he then attacked my womb.

I lay crying on the floor,
My heart in an uproar.
He walked upto me and said,
What fun, if just the two of us played!”

And then he would go on and on,
From dusk until dawn.
When I screamed I was sore,
He’d laugh and say there was more.

Sated, he would kick me with his feet,
And I would curl up in defeat.
After an hour of fearful sleep,
I’d look into the mirror and weep.

Was my life the result of my sin?
I’d search for answers from within.
Now that the day had begun,
All the chores had to be done.

He would kiss me on my cheek,
And apologise for acting like a freak.
My consent had been withheld,
This injustice had to be quelled.

I looked again at my wedding ring,
Only words of sorrow it could sing.
I swiftly took it off my finger,
There was no more need to linger.

I walked out penniless and sore,
But at every step I felt my heart soar
..

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About the author:

Shirisha Pothapragada is an architect by profession. She is also a writer, and poetry is her forte. Shirisha has the unique talent of expressing emotions on social issues while maintaining the dichotomy in her poems.


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