By Dr. Satpal Singh

 

I always loved Cinderella’s story

A slave girl with a dream

Abused, exploited, worked to death

Then rescued by a team

A team of pumpkin, rat and mice

A coach, coachman and horses

A gem deprived of glow, but found

By a prince and prince’s forces

O’ Lord, I ask, beseech, I seek,

A coach to get me away

Enslaved, battered, daily hurt

I plead, I cry, I pray

Where is my pumpkin, where the rat

Where did you hide the mice?

Where is my fairy godmother?

Is she no longer nice?

A ‘God’ without a trace of grace

A ‘God’ without a tear

What good is he, who never cries?

A cry who doesn’t hear

I urge all fathers, mothers alike

To make a prideful choice

A daughter born, you don’t despair

Make her a Kaur, rejoice

You teach your daughter, self-defense

So no one dares to beat her

No one would then exploit her

No one would dare mistreat her

And then she needs, no unfair fairies

Pumpkins, rats or mice

No fake misogynistic ‘God’,

Nor men, who aren’t so nice

It’s better than, a tortured life

To die with a hand on sword

And if she dies, in self-defense

She’ll meet her One True Lord

The One True God – the Ik Onkar

The sole Creator of all

Who dwells in women, men alike

And equally loves us all

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