Widow’s Dream

By Manmohan Kaur

I met her at the Ganges,

Where she waits and prays for her death, 

She is dressed up in white, her life as a widow, white yet not bright

We named it Game of Destiny, battered her soul, burnt her desires for no fault of her own

She lives, after being disowned by her own people, her own family

the same family that welcomed her when she was a new bride

When the man of her life died, she lost her pride

Walking barefoot, there is no sound of her anklets

Ruthlessly they broke her bangles, and shamelessly they took all her jewels

Rich or poor they all were thrown out by their own

Pushed into penury, living at the mercy of alms

Even her own parents never visited her,

her little brother whom she carried everywhere broke all ties

She is a not his sister but just another widow

She has survived all these years,

looking out of that small window

She hides her tears, 

Many years have passed,

her teeth falling one by one

Her memory is fresh yet she evades,

Memories of a sixteen-year-old bride, sixteen days of celebrations, sixteen months of being a wife,

sixty years of exile from bride to a widow,

her journey of survival, tough and mean

She made her own friends and foes

Every widow had a story of her own,

Some wanted to sell them while they were young

some wanted to have them as mistress

But they all knew their plight, so they fought their battles alone,

Survived the scavengers, destroyed their own beautiful looks,

They all are together neither rich nor poor, no caste, no region, no beauty,

They just demand some dignity; their wounds are always sore but pain of hunger is more

Now her days pass just in prayers,

Prays to the Supreme One, for ‘He’ only will console her

Take her away with ‘Him’, to His land where all colors rule, for ‘Him’ white is sacred

Only ‘He’ has the courage, to take her away from this ruthless world

so, she prays for that day when she will meet her God and question ‘Him’ again 

What is the game of Destiny, that wrote her plight, her fight and how she lost her own light.

Note:

(River Ganga in India is considered a religious river and has religious importance for the people. There are widows living in Varanasi and as per the culture a widow is supposed to wear white clothes and lead a very simple life devoid of any kind of comfort. Over the years efforts have been made to make their life better but unfortunately these women are living a very difficult life)

By Manmohan Kaur