i) So here I am recollecting your corpse, while the pyre is being made. Your lifeless little body is in danger, because those animals out there are capable of fucking, even if it's a dead body.
I don't know how long will I manage to keep you safe, I guess only fire can set you free.
ii) While I look at your palankeen, I silently pray that I do not give birth to a baby girl. Because years from now, every time my 5 year old will ask me if she looks beautiful, I would hesitate to utter a 'yes', thinking if they could be coming for her next.
iii) They say temples and mosques and churches are places where we find God. I now fear closing my eyes in these "holy" places, for who knows finding a connection with God, could result in a struggle to get yourself out of a deathly strangle. And meanwhile, just wondering how many incense sticks are needed to overpower the reek of a million orgasms.
iv) I can feel your spirit floating nearby, scrutinising everything that's been happening since you've been gone.
And I wonder whether those thousands of candles that we light for you bring a shine in your eyes, eyes that have otherwise grown dark by looking at the bruises and the scars that your innocence doesn't recognise.
v) I hope that these candles, before finding justice, find a way to your pyre, and burn you away, because you don't belong to a place where there are more worshippers of God of Rape, than the God of Humanity. -Rhidam
Picture credits: @alexcocomazzi.art
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