• Published : 07 Jul, 2015
  • Comments : 1
  • Category : Poetry
  • Types : Poetry

Laxmi mopped the floor, swift and fast

She had to get rid of all the dirt and dust

Money was all she needed

Cleaning houses one after another

Cursing her fate, cursing her past.


Saraswati stood still at the school gate

Dropping out of school was her only option

She must lift bricks instead of pen

To provide food and shelter

To protect her sisters from all the men.


Kali looked into the mirror

Bruises and cuts marked her

Blood smudged sindoor, tear stained fair face,

Submission to her husband and never to rebel

Was her only way to solace.


Ganga flicked back her straight hair

Adjusted her corset, fixed her make-up

She was ready to earn her bread

Pushed into prostitution

She lived life in shades of dark deep red.


Durga sat behind files unnoticed

While Vishnu, Rudra and Ram

Got promoted

All the late nights at office, all the insults

Added up to nothing at last.


Named after goddesses, our women live a life of irony

A life of curse, a slice of pain

Deep within our soul, we know

They will raise hell, when they try

For no one can live in content

Where Goddesses Cry…… 


About Author

Rhiti Bose

Member Since: 15 Jan, 2015

Rhiti Bose is a writer/blogger based in Bhubaneswar, Orissa, India, where she lives with her daughter, son and husband. She believes in being simple, kind and honest. Her main passion is writing, closely followed by travelling and reading endles...

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