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
