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A catastrophe

A catastrophe indeed.

I was only four by then,

So innocent, so naïve…

When the beautiful blue horizon,

Turned into a dark pond,

And everything became misty.

The rain drops went drip-drip-drip

With the wind blowing in gusts.

The people sang with gusto,

As the children went frolicking around.

The guitars were played smoothly,

As everyone danced freely.

I looked at papa

And I felt real proud,

A sergeant-in-chief

Was real worth it.

Honorable guests,



A great party it was, indeed.

I moved with papa proudly

As he made me meet his allies.

“These are your uncles,” he said,

And I nodded in agreement.

So innocent, so naïve,

I didn’t know what to say.

One of them held my small hand tightly,

And said briefly,

“Won’t you like to have a walk with uncle?”

But that wasn’t a question,

Yet rather, a short request.

My father let me go off me,

And I followed ‘uncle’ sheepishly.

We went far and farther away.

And when I asked my fate,

He hoarsely said,

“You will right now know.”

As we went on walking,

He insisted,

“Your papa should never know.”

I cried in bewilderment,

As he took me to the river across.

So dark and quiet the place was,

Like a narrow cave it was.

Next, he betrayed me,

And I painfully cried in agony for papa.

I was in a sudden frisson,

As the blood oozed down the floor.

I didn’t comprehend at all,

Neither did I want to,

I just wanted papa again

For the pain was too much for me.

Four was my age,

So innocent, so naïve.

My tears couldn’t stop flowing

And I couldn’t stop saying,

“What have you done uncle?”

“What have you done!”

It’s the pain of betrayal,

The pain of mistrust,

The pain, of rape.



A freelance writer, journalist, poet and blogger venturing mainly in social and community issues, study and analysis of behaviour and life, and the plight of the under-dogs in the society. 'I feed on human stories.'

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