by Amita Jadhav
(Kolhapur, Maharashtra, India)
Kohl-lined limpid eyes
once expressing wild desire
turn listless and teary, in inconsolable sorrow.
Milky-white conical breasts
once fulsome and proud
turn pendulous and sagging, in arid emptiness.
Blood-red fertile wombs
once heavy with promise
turn sterile and void, in barren childlessness.
lie wasted and unwanted
this then the price paid, each time a war is waged.
Wives turned into widows so tragically
carry their angst in silence to the grave
while an apathetic world watches on, silently.
The havoc wrought on women has no reprieve
it finds no mention in the annals of war
because these heroic epics- are all written by men.