From the unborn daughter of Kausar Bano…

Bilkees Beghum from the Godhra relief camp told a tale that seemed to confirm a recurrent pattern in the atrocities severed on the women during the Gujarat riots in 2002. She was stripped, gang-raped, her baby was killed before her, and she was then beaten up, then burnt and left to die.
Before they were finally killed, some were beaten up with rods and pipes for almost an hour. Before or after the killing, their vagina would be sliced, or would have iron rods pushed inside. Similarly, their bellies would be cut open or would have hard objects inserted into them. A 13-year old girl, Farzana, had a rod pushed into her stomach, and was then burnt. A mother reported that her three-year old baby girl was raped and killed in front of her, while elsewhere daughters reported on the rapes of their mothers, now dead.

Kausar Bano, a young girl from Naroda Patiya, was several months pregnant during the Gujrat riots. Several eyewitnesses testified that she was raped, tortured, her womb was slit open with a sword to disgorge the foetus which was then hacked to pieces and roasted alive with the mother. A day before the massacre, Sheikh, Kausar’s father, said he had taken Kausar to a hospital in Kalupur for a medical check-up. She was complaining of pain. The doctor had said she was likely to deliver in a day or two.

(Source: Internet /The Indian express)

From the unborn daughter of Kausar Bano…
Everything was perfect, amma!
The tang of the pickle you savoured,
The essence of the mud you once had
All reached me…
The radiant sun
Filtered through your womb to warm me.

I was very happy, amma!
Before long was I to breathe my own air
Before long was I to sense my own hunger
The moment for me to feel my own sun was soon to come…

I was blissful, amma!
The shadow of abba’s palm blessed me on your womb
I longed to see his face
I longed to have my abba
I longed to see for myself, the world outside your cover…


I was very happy, amma!
But one day…I gasped!
Like a fish without water
What unfamiliar touch,
Oh what was it amma?
That had desecrated,
the holy waters of my shelter?

It pained, amma!
Were you being dragged??
And then, I, nestled within you, was torn…
Torn from the lukewarm dim of your womb-
Through a blinding blaze…into a boiling furnace-
Was this to be my first sunshine?

It was a huge operation, ma!

I saw from my eyes,
The eyes, amma, that could never see,
Doctors and surgeons with tridents …
Were bent over you…and then
They shrieked…!
Why did they shriek, amma?
Were they happy on seeing me inside you?

As I came out, they gave me toys!
Toys to play with, amma.
Toys of fire!

Absorbed in my first and final play
I did not see you…
But in your cry of death
You must have sung for me, my last lullaby.

I was never born, amma!
And thus, never died.
Like the unborn hospitalized child in coloured water,
I was immortalized…
But here, there is no coloured water
Only scorching, parching, and searing heat!
How long will I have to burn amma?


(Translated from Anshu Malviya’s in Hindi)

I wish I could post the original one in Hindi (way more profoundly expressed there) but its not available on the internet and the hard copy of the poems is not in my possession.I translated it for my college magazine 2 years ago.

Those of you who were present in the recent poetry recitation in our department would be reminded of something similar that was recited there.(I think it was called ‘Lullaby’)