Flumes Volume 2: Issue 1, Summer 2017 - Page 19


Sachi Ni Bhulna

Don't speak the truth

by Jassi K. Bassi

all day she walks through the shared garden

carrying the clay jug on top of her head

her long tresses slither down her spine

her chunjra sing praising her angelic face

when she walks by the old men playing cards

she can feel invisible hands grabbing at her hips

she can feel the hands sliding up under the silk of her blouse

claiming her like a prize not like a heer

that deserves to be held up to the light by a lover

a lover that knows how to appreciate beauty

if she wanted to stop them she wouldn't dare

because her hands are full full of duties

the duties of a daughter sister niece bride to be

and the duties of a woman in a culture that wouldn't believe her

if she said the hands were real.