Mock Eulogy.

Collected Statements :

A Trial or A Funeral. You decide.

She died....
Yes. She did.
*Scoffs*
But guess what the spectators, her family, her lover — said :

"What a petty death,
She did it to herself,
all she had to do was cook and clean,
Rest assured, she was provided by the men with everything"

"The shelter, the food, the clothes she wore,
So ungrateful she was to ask for more.
She made us chain her, and forced us to ignore,
We had no choice but to straighten her in full accord".

"What is it that she wanted,
We never understood,
She kept crying and explaining something,
But is that not what women usually do?"

"We miss her so much,
she died at such a young age,
Every restriction— we swore—was for her own benefit.
Only if she was content—
In what the elders said,
If only she accepted from within,
What was meant for her to obey,
Her stubbornness would not have led her astray,
Right into death's way."

"I heard she wept blood near the end,
The cause of death is unknown yet,
She made herself sick,
So that's not a matter of debate."
'mental exhaustion, insomnia, depression, anxiety'
Were though, found in her personal diary.
Hah! Who knows what else she self-diagnosed,
To justify the descent she herself chose."

"Such a bad example for the younger girls,
Who did she think she was?
Questioning and demanding to cease the rules?
We work so hard to earn what she spent,
Ask the soulless body!
Who bought the very cloth she is shrouded in?"

"All that ruckus to chase a dream,
To do something more than cook and clean,
Look at her fast asleep,
How cruel of her to make her dear ones grieve,
Alive or dead, she always stole their peace."

"We told them not to fret,
As she did it to herself,
Now they regret not being stricter,
Chopped her growing wings sooner,
But is regret not a foe disguised as a friend?"

"Let's not talk about her much,
let her soul rest,
But the fact about her life,
will never be erased,
she brought it all on herself,
When all she was ever asked,
Was to do absolutely nothing but,
Silently, lovingly, devotedly and only
Cook and clean".

As if that were the only verse of scripture,
they were able to read,
Or were purposely willing to keep?
She spoke the truth—
Defying the beliefs of their dead forefathers,
The twisted definition of a noble woman,
To fit into their narrative—
their version of religion.

Was it her fault that she could clearly see,
And call out— with sheer bravery?
The ugly face of their tainted traditions,
The line between faith and false legacy?

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Main gul nahi ke bas khamosh rahu,
Is gawahi mein anginat ruho ki
fariyaad shamil hai.
Jinhon ne talwaro ke saye mein
namaaz ada ki,
Unhi ke waris aaj aurato ke galo par
talwar liye khade hain.

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