Life lost


From the mangled remains of the wreck

They extract her broken self.

There is a body left, oh for sure!

But of features, it is bereft.

 

A precious life is lost

To another’s drunken pleasure,

Whilst he escapes Scot-free;

She suffered beyond measure.

 

No apology given, no rue

His lawyer frees, gets him walking.

And if he tries to apologize in future

Lawyer will scoff & say– “It’s the whiskey talking!”


Image – Ante Hamersmit via unsplash

 

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About Sonal Singh

An author, storyteller, and full-time observer of life’s glorious absurdities. I write humour-laced stories where chaos wears fluffy fur, emotions arrive uninvited, and middle-class Indian households become ecosystems of drama, love, and unsolicited advice. Armed with sarcasm, caffeine, and alarming emotional attachment to stray creatures, I believe compassion is less of a virtue and more of a lifestyle disorder. One that I embrace. When I’m not writing, I’m usually busy running a full-time HR consultancy business, rescuing animals, or trying to maintain dignity while being emotionally manipulated by my pets. Through my literary work, I try to blend humour with heart, celebrating the messy coexistence of humans and non-humans in modern urban India.

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