Woman, you have acquired a mind

Of your own,

Spelling disaster for a civilized

World.

You think, you read, you argue, you contest,

Contravening the noble principles

Of Dharma.

You make your own decisions, even

Go to work.

You think you too have a right to earnings,

Property, career advancement.

You have taken to asserting

You too may dictate decisions to men,

Both in the homes and in offices.

The Constitution has gone to your head,

As if laws, rights, prerogatives

Were truly meant to be equal,

When all good books prescribe

That you bear babies, clean and cook

For man, your lord and master.

Flying fighter jets, climbing mountains,

Winning medals in sports arenas

In skimpy costumes,

You have lost the way

Set out for you by Mullahs and Pandits, Priests and Guardians,

Endangering the equipoise

Of the cosmic order.

Your articulations often leave men,

The natural overlords of life,

Searching for answers that they

Do not find.

Thus it is that men have no choice

But to catch you where you

Are the weakest—your bodies.

Men have no pleasure in rape;

It is the only instrument left

To them to put you in your

Ordained place, a necessary task

And course of correction  justly endorsed

By men even in homes,

And law-enforcement agencies,

Not to speak of the high-priests

Of religions.

If only you understood this salutary

Package of analysis and instruction,

There would be no rape.

You would once again acquire your

Due place as Devis and Goddesses,

Worshipped by men,

Ceasing to be mere vulnerable

Creatures of flesh and blood,

Open to assault, calumny,  dismemberment,

And  ncineration, ending up dead.