I saw her for the first time at the bus stop,

I had little idea that life-as-i-know it was about to drop.

 

She must have been around nine or ten,

I found myself drawn to her every now and then.

 

My curiosity got the better of me and I spoke to her that day,

Her words pierced my darkness like a light ray.

 

We used to meet every day after that,

Our company was strange

For I was thin and she was fat.

 

Her hair was all freckled, falling onto her face, keeping her eyes firmly shut,

She called me ‘fashionably challenged’,telling me that it was called as a ‘Step cut

 

Her lips though wanted to speak a million words I could sense a certain restraint in them,

Among all the fake stones I had encountered, she was a real gem.

 

There was a definite calmness that prevailed over her face,

With such maturity she would no doubt ace life’s race.

 

I nicknamed her “FATSO”,

And every time I called her that

She used to innocently ask “FAT , SO?” .

 

We spoke about everything under the sun,

With her I experienced real fun.

 

Her presence filled my barren days and took me to my childhood,

She loved and respected me so much

That she conferred on me knighthood.

 

One day she did not turn up,

My life tasted horrible like tea in a coffee cup.

 

I searched for her high and low to no avail,

Little did I know that my life was about to derail.

 

A few days later someone told me that FATSO committed suicide,

I wished that,that someone had lied.

 

The facts that followed were more shocking,

FATSO’s father did everything from drinking to smoking.

 

He used to come home from work late every night,

And rape FATSO with all his might.

 

He took her virginity and left her with no cure,

She had no choice but to endure.

 

One night it got so bad,

That FATSO left this world which is so mad.

 

On hearing this I cried and was shocked,

My conscience was all mocked.

 

I felt betrayed that FATSO did not tell me anything that went on at home,

She spoke of everything else while we used to roam.

 

Maybe it was a problem that could not be expressed,

Her wounds were all but dressed.

 

All her signs were suddenly becoming clear,

I could not see them even though I was so near.

 

The’step cut’ was in place to hide the pain in her eyes,

I could hear everything she said except her cries.

 

The restraint on her lips was not of maturity but of emotions all curled,

She had no idea how to go against the man whose sperm bought her into this world.

 

I feel now that I know everyone else but her,

Feels like someone has  given my life a total stir.

 

I would save her was all she would have thought with all her might,

Just that all this was out of my sight.

 

I stand at the same bus stop today watching buses go here and there,

Wondering which bus will take me to her care.

 

Engraved all over my heart is FATSO’s real name-ANANYA,

For all I now hear is “HELP ME BHAIYYA