Funeral Flames, Unseen And Unheard
In the land where pyres light the skies,
Why do you snatch her voice, her cries?
In Hindu rites, sons alone hold the flame,
But where’s the daughter’s heart in this game?
She’s “impure,” they say, her blood's a sin,
But who’s the one who deemed this within?
In life she gave care, in death she’s shunned,
From the sacred rites, she’s swiftly outruned.
And Islam, oh, do you hear your own creed?
You wash her hands of the dead, then impede.
In silence, she mourns what was lost and dead,
For dreams left unspoken are words never said.
She bathes the dead but stays far behind,
A soul’s last journey and she's left blind.
Tell me, Quran, where is this decree?
Where’s the verse that silences she?
In churches, the men hold the holy scroll,
The women in pews, taking no role.
Oh, Christianity, aren't you love’s core?
Why do women not lead, why are they ignored?
She births the life, but she cannot mourn,
From pulpit to pyre, she's cut and torn.
Saints and sinners, equal they die,
But in death’s rituals, why's she denied?
From every faith, the appalling shackles are clear,
Men stand tall, women disappear.
In rites of death, she’s cast aside,
In life’s last breath, her worth denied.
But these beliefs are bound by time,
Exclusion itself, a gigantic crime. Her absence, though deemed quintessential,
Now must break the legacy, once so reverential.
It’s time to rise, it’s time to see,
That women deserve equality.
Let daughters stand with sons at pyres,
Let mothers mourn beside funeral fires.
Symbolic roles, or parallel prayers,
Let women be seen, let’s strip away beware.
For faith that’s true, for faith that’s kind,
Let’s leave exclusion far behind.
Copyright © Paarth Wassan | Year Posted 2024
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