Satidaah (Voice of a Widow)

(Voice of a Widow)
They say “widow immolation” doesn’t exist.
I say — they lie, it persists.
It burns in every home, every society,
A silent flame of cruel propriety.
Every day my parents burn me —
they think they need to care.
Every day my in-laws burn me —
because I am a legal share.
Every day my society people burn me —
because I am young, attractive, with no pair.
And what of the fire that scorches my heart?
Since I lost him, I’ve been torn apart.
He was mine, I was his, but now I burn,
With a heart that aches, with no return.
They say “widow immolation” doesn’t exist.
I say — they lie, it still persists.
It burns in every home, every society,
A cruel truth in silent variety.