A heart-breaking story

Intersectionality studies are more important to understand Gender than I thought! A heart breaking poem by Zoya Zaidi is what I wish to share in this post about the Devadasi system.

Devadasi’s Saga

 I could hear the temple bell

Ringing in my ears,

The day I was born

To an unwedded mother, or rather

My mother was “married” to the temple!

But,

The Temple was not my father!

I could hear the temple bells

Ringing in my ears…

I could hear the temple walls,

Heaving sighs in the dead of night,

Sighs of satisfaction…

I could hear my mother’s sobs,

Intermingle with the sighs,

Sighs of dissatisfaction…

As I slept on the cold-rough stone,

My cradle in the darkest chamber,

Where light hardly ever entered,

I missed a father’s loving touch,

When I asked my mother,

She said:

The temple was my father!

Then one day, through the

Half shut doors, I saw:

The priest heaving and hawing,

Full of sweat…

The pained surprise in my mother’ eyes,

(On being so exposed),

Silently beseeching me

With helpless tearful eyes:

“Go away! You’re still too young!”

But one day, I grew up!

I felt the “touch”,

A creeping crawling, lustful touch,

The expression in the priest’s eyes,

Matched the touch,

As he held me in his clutch…

Nausea welled up in my throat:

It was not a father’s touch,

I could feel it in my innocent bones…

Then Another, and Another…

Now, I am “My Mother”…

Like her, I do not know,

The father of the baby in my womb…

Like my mother, I am going to

Tell, my daughter:

“Temple is your father!”

This has gone on for centuries,

And still goes on…

This will go on forever…

I am the Devadasi of the Temple…

Temples may crumble…

But,

I will go on

Forever…