Kolkata doctor rape-murder case: Voice of an Indian woman

I know I’m a girl, but it’s not my fault...

I was on duty, fulfilling my call,

A job I once saw as a service to all.

A healer’s path, a blessing so pure,

But I never imagined what I’d have to endure.

I chose this life to make others well,

Studied and laboured, went through hell.

Days and nights in the lab, working so hard,

Never thought I’d regret this card.

To be a doctor, to give and to care,

But now, I wish I wasn’t even there.

I know I’m a girl, but it’s not my fault.

I left my home with hope in my eyes,

A smile for my parents, no goodbyes.

“Mumma, Papa, I’ll be back in a while,”

But they never knew I’d walk my last mile.

They raised me strong, made them proud,

But now they mourn, voices so loud.

If they’d known, they’d have held me tight,

Never let me out of their sight.

Their daughter, now just a memory cold,

Never thought they’d see her story unfold.

I know I’m a girl, but it’s not my fault.

What happened to Draupadi long ago,

Is happening today, from head to toe.

Times have changed, yet we’re still bound,

By the same chains, going round and round.

“Don’t wear that skirt, it’s way too tight,” “

Don’t stay out late, come home at night.”

“Don’t talk to boys, don’t be so free,” “

Get married soon, that’s how it should be.”

What more do you want from us?

We’ve done all you ask,

Still, we suffer behind the mask.

I know I’m a girl, but it’s not my fault.

Now I’m gone, laid to rest,

But what about the millions, doing their best?

Should their parents fear, just like mine,

That education and freedom are a dangerous line?

They might not have celebrated when I was born,

But they loved me dearly, though now they mourn.

I was their pride, their shining star,

But now they wonder if they went too far.

To raise a daughter, strong and bright,

In a world that snuffed out her light.

They knew they had a daughter, But it wasn’t their fault either.