Manzari

She shows fabricated smile as a faded flower.
Sober pain of a deep hurt spreads on her face.
She cannot remove her sadness like a torn cloth,
it cannot cover her shyness.

She feels by herself; she is a scene of shame.
She loses her aesthetic persona in eyesight.
She aspires to make her gorgeous
life with a refreshing happiness.
She starts to append a garland of hope.
Searching for her fanciful and lost dream,
Manzari begins an indefinite journey.

Her reality portrays:
Poverty makes a slave like life,
illiteracy isolates from global age’s affairs,
ignorance trades in cheaper price,
innocent mind gets involved in juncture of conspiracy,
her journey is necessary to reform her entity.

Manzari passes over the horizons to ocean,
she’s unknown, shifted as an animal.

Her karma places:
She cannot defend her delicate and sensitive virginity.
Without feelings and excitement, she is ravished
in a brothel of Bombay by lustful men.
Missing hopes and relations,
she cannot protect her chastity.
She curses to her destiny for such a life.
She cannot escape from her master’s cage.
Her charm is squeezed like flour dough.

This is a life of hell.
Manzari dies mysteriously in an Arabian country
reason that she cannot endure agony
of losing her virtue of life. Manzari’s appending
garland of hope is incomplete.

Many of us,
we hear the story of Manzari.
But we don’t care.
She is the page of an open book.
We can read and feel her.
We can share our fondness to her.

Manzari wants to live as us,
with value and pride of life.
Try to feel her torment,
try to listen her sob.

Stop women trafficking!
Do not elevate to the world’s human trading.
It’s your criminal and outrageous act.
It’s a defamation of our society and nation.

Read, feel, think and understand
Manzari’s story belongs to us. ...

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