“My friend, tell me what’s the matter?
What is the secret of your non-stop chatter?”
“Can’t you detect a thing?
I will be wearing a wedding ring.
Today ladke wale are coming to see me
And soon I will be flying free.
Come on, let’s go to the beauty parlor
Soon I will be having my own harbor.”
Barely concealing my disgust,
I asked, not warming to the request,
“Are you a prostitute or product or wine
to be delivered on time?
Your own parents acting as pimps
Has their conscience gone limp?
Getting you packaged beautifully,
to attract target customers dutifully?
Where is your pride?
Has it gone for a ride?
How can you exhibit yourself as an offering?
In front of strangers, will your self-respect not be suffering?
My friend, have some dignity
Don’t sacrifice it for the sake of security.”
“See after coming of age
I have to mate.
I have to be scrutinized
Otherwise the deal will not materialize!
How can I have dignity?
When boy too doesn’t protest for being treated as commodity!
Day in and day out, in the dowry market
He has been fitted in a money casket.
Auctioned and sold and bought
But he doesn’t seem distraught.
Not a single pore of his body rises in self-respect,
So we two items are destined to tryst.
He refuses to learn and grow up into manhood.
So I too remain secure in the childhood.
See we both deserve each other
We are perfectly made for each other.”
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