Has the silk, rings and brass trophy plates, fame
and the place people bestowed upon
The noble bird that lauded
Modesty of Indian women turned naught?
Has mother India's temper that fed and fostered
the holy trinities as off springs got estranged?
The posture too of that chastest jem
who relinquished her eyes
To become alike her blind darling
More illusion ever on earth?
Times of yore
inflated in arrogance of boastful haughty might
Of the foul pixy Soorpanaka
bent in awe before the sword tip of Lakshmana
The women of Doom day boost up in
shadows of power
Moods change
Women of today to acquire wealth and
to seek out the couches of power
Immolate values and roam astray...
Plunder, murder, theft and exploitation
Assault, intrigue and such games are played
And the posture decays
To bear child, to give it birth
and functions all due to women.
She look reluctant
She is gone seeking after
the pasture lands of the fancy world.
To exterminate this predicament
Be born again, Mother India
Let your women folk be Seelavathis.
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