A gem she was and she loved a man dearly,Letters she wrote to him that she never sentBecause her parents had found her more worthy of another,To their wishes she bent.
He was a man who wore the garb of God,Urged the others to call out to Him every day.A more righteous man lived not they saidThe girl is so lucky, for all years they would say.
Nobody knew he was a wolf dressed like a sheep,Kept her tied to her bedpost; balanced tables on her palms.Bleed she did, but not a sound she made,It was not her place to complain of her qualms.
When the children came, he spared not them either,The daughter he defiled, the son he murdered.The other son he turned against his mother,He grew up hating her.
He became a priest like his father,He called his mother a religious traitorBuried her alive for that was fitting punishment,Her last thought was how fortunate they had called her.
This poem is partially inspired from Tehmina Durrani's book "Blasphemy". It's a poignant tale of how those whom the society considers holy and righteous can be really cruel behind the four walls of their homes. A must-read, this one!
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