Monster, Monster

Crooked, yellow teeth,
a hunched back,
and a sinister smile.
I thought that’s what monsters looked like.

But then I saw him,
As perfect as anyone could ever be;
with his handsome face
and striking features.

He stood there,
over her body,
now empty and lifeless.
Her face bloodied and bruised.
There remained only a broken shell of what used to be.

I looked at him then,
and in that instant,
I knew without a shadow of doubt,
that that’s what monsters really look like.

Meghna Jain


What if?

                                                                W h a t  i f
                                 she had been more careful? What if she
                          had not been so disrespectful? What if she had not
                      believed in feminism? What if she had not wanted to be
                   strong and independent? What if she had stayed within the
                limits imposed upon her?                       What if she had never want-
              ed to step out of the four                                walls of her kitchen? What if
             she  had  been  shy  and                                        reserved? What if she had
            been  more  obedient?                                             What if all she ever want-
            ed was to be a slave to                                               her husband? What if she
                                                                                                        had dressed a little more ap-
                                                                                                     propriately? What if she had
                                                                                          not fraternized with the opposite
                                                                                   sex? What if she had given a fuck
                                                                        about what other people thought?
                                                                        What if she had abided by the se-
                                                                        xist gender roles of the society?
                                                                        What  if  she  had  simply  just
                                                                         l     i     s     t     e     n      e     d     ?

                                                                                 She have been spare-
                                                                           d then? Would she have b-
                                                                        een safe then? Would she n-
                                                                           ot have been raped then?
                                                                                Would she still have be-
                                                                                        en alive then?

Meghna Jain




Every day
New bruises
To endure

Bullied in school
Abused at home
In this plight, she was immured

With no one to confide in
no one to hide behind
she was her own saviour

Only one thing to do now
Commmit the ultimate sin
That was her only cure.

She found a rope
She found a stool
She found some liqueur

She gathered enough courage
To finally put her head through the rope
And end it all

Nobody missed her
Not even her own father
He was too drowned in alcohol

So she hung there for days
Until finally the rope gave out
And let her limp body fall

Meghna Jain

The Beauty of Darkness

Pitch black.
Sounds evil,
doesn’t it?

How can something
that brings darkness,
and darkness only
be good?
How can it be pure
and majestic?
It can’t be, right?

But it is.
Because darkness isn’t all that bad.
For it is the darkness that makes the fire stand out.
For it is the darkness that makes the stars shine bright.
For it is the darkness that gives meaning to light.

We curse it,
we fear it,
we avoid it like the plague.

But, the truth is,
without the dark…
The light wouldn’t signify
optimism or

The light would simply mean
nothing at all.

Meghna Jain


He was weak
at least that’s what he’s been told.
All his life,
that’s all he heard.
From his mother, his father, his supposed friends;
they were all like a broken record.
He always denied it.
He never believed them.
But somewhere along the way,
he started questioning his strength.
Did it even exist?
He needed to prove to them now
but more so to himself
that indeed, it did exist.

Burning is known to be the most painful way to die.
No weakling could ever jump into a blazing fire.
And so he did
what only a man with great courage could do.
He walked towards the flame
and fiery fingers wrapped around him,
swallowing him completely.
It must have hurt.
Must have been excruciating.
But he didn’t let anyone know that;
There were no screams
not even a whimper.
And just like that
he was no longer a coward.
He wasn’t even flesh and bones.
All he was….
was ash.

Meghna Jain


I thought it would feel liberating,
I thought it would feel good.
But instead, here i sit
falling apart like I never thought I would.

I remember you,
and how you used to make me smile.
I think i made a terrible mistake
the day I walked away.

You begged me to stay,
and I wish I had.
I recall every conversation,
and feel there’s so much more that I’d like to add.

Every second without you
feels like an eternity spent.
I wish I could go back in time
and cease this endless torment.

But I know I’m stuck
with the decisions I have made.
I can’t reach out to you,
because I feel afraid.

So here I sit,
falling apart like I never thought I would.
I don’t feel liberated,
I don’t feel good.

Meghna Jain


People look at me,
and I see the look of pity
that they shoot my way.

I stare back at them
with empty eyes;
Remembering that unfortunate day.

I was but a child,
content with my balloons and toys;
Until the monster whisked me away.

He took me,
and for years all I saw was him.
As he forced me to obey.

He treated me like I was his pet.
Like he had done me a favour by abducting me.
As if I was nothing but a stray.

I lost track of time.
I sat in the dark,
and waited for him to come play.

But something extraordinary happened.
He got drunk,
And left open the door to the hallway.

I found my way out.
I ran without knowing where,
but so happy to finally get away.

I was free,
I found help.
I would never again be locked away.

But even as I try to forget,
Every time I see the look of pity on someone’s face,
I am reminded of what happened
while I was his prey.