I’ll be 20 soon, and I am a girl,
In a world where shadows twist and curl.
A friend sent a video—no warning, no shield,
A woman’s agony, her fate forever sealed.
She was 31, just living her life,
Kolkata’s night swallowed her light.
Raped, torn, left to bleed,
A nightmare sown from a monstrous seed.

Her screams, a haunting echo in the dark,
Her suffering, a mark that leaves a stark
Reminder of the silence that shadows the truth,
A veil over violence, a death of her youth.

We whisper "rape," our voices dim,
But why do we silence what’s born of sin?
Why do we hide this word in shame,
When silence itself stokes this deadly flame?

I’ll be 20 soon, and I am a girl,
Yet how can life seem fair when an 11-year-old’s world unfurls?
What sin could she bear, so young and pure,
For a child to face what no one should endure?
What darkness could twist a mind so tight,
To steal her joy, to snuff out her light?
What twisted desires drove that cruel hand,
To turn a child’s life to grains of sand?

I’ll be 20 soon, and I am a girl,
Walking streets where my fears unfurl.
I choose an auto, not for the fare,
But for the chance that I might breathe safer air.
No locked doors, no silent dread,
The open road won’t leave me dead.
Just a simple walk to the store,

But catcalls echo, I’m hope no more.
In broad daylight, on a busy street,
Forty faces, but no hearts beat.
Disgust grips tight, a second skin,
As I hurry home, the fear within.

A week goes by, I venture again,
Another voice, another strain.
Drunk and bold, his words a spear,
In the light of day, but none draw near.
Forty people, watching close,
Yet none step forward to oppose.

My best friend sat me down, his voice so kind,
“Men can be monsters,” he said, burdened in mind.
He spoke with care, with love and fear,
A reminder that danger is always near.

But my thoughts drift back to a man I once loved,
The trust I gave, the pain that shoved.
I screamed "no," yet he didn’t stop,
And now, I’m the one the world will drop.
Well, am I really to complain? Am I really at fault?
For daring to trust, for believing at all?
Is it me who’s wrong, for wanting what’s right,
Or is it this world that’s blind to the fight?

I’ll be 20 soon, and I am a girl,
In a world where safety is a fragile pearl.

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