Picture It & Write!


Every week Ermiliablog host a photograph suggested by contributors and urge people to join in, comment with their paragraph of fiction to accompany the image. And every time I’ve written it so happened to turn into a fictional story. But for some reason this pic glared at me differently.

picture it & write

Maimed by our own inadequacies in life, we see the world through a chandelier. It is almost pertinent for our existence to be able to see the glitz and shimmer reflected back upon us. Just as an assurance that everything is the way it should be. Sheer perfection. Like a Picasso painting on a canvas, hanging on the wall. Often times, leads us to live in a make-belief world.

There is a lot of pain in the world. Just because we tend to look the other way, doesn’t mean its non-existence. The truth is sometimes we are so blinded by our pseudo living, we fail to see the stark reality. They say we are defined by our actions. By our choices. By our words. By our thoughts. And yet we speak with such callousness. We act full of animosity and malice. We behave unceremoniously. We commit heinous crimes.

And we judge. Yes, we judge without knowing.

I wrote these few lines from the point of view of a rape victim. The aftermath of a rape. The thoughts that run into a vulnerable mind when she hears stories of how she must have instigated it. How she is silenced to not speak about it to protect herself. It’s a women’s prerogative to walk freely just like a man and yet she can’t. It saddens me that already a rape victim has been through so much and still doesn’t end and comes along the mudslinging and fingers pointing towards her direction for being not civilized enough or not dressed properly or behaved inappropriately which led to her being raped. Such a morbid world.

I may have done no justice to her voice but I hope and pray that we see a new dawn soon when they’d be given the respect they deserve and not be defined by something that wasn’t their fault.


I was naked

Pleading for mercy

I was tamed

It was brutal

I lost myself

He regaled himself

But that doesn’t define me

Or confine my soul

I was untainted

And will always be

It wasn’t my fault

Still suffering is mine

What can I explain to the world

What’s taken from me

You don’t care much

I don’t tell to relive

I exist

Entangled in the web of lies

They say it’s the right thing

To hide my emotions

To mask my being

Prove to me

Yet again

There’s a world

That looks out for me

Ask me

My choice

All I want

Is to

Break free


29 responses »

  1. Good job! Very appropriate ending words. The self-incrimination and the frustration at not being able to make it go away continue long afterward. The words “I don’t tell to relive” really hit home.

    • It is sad indeed. I guess we can only hope and pray that such a horrific act is completely erased off.. Thanks for reading and the photo that took me in this direction.

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