Three nought three

Born to a happy family

To a generation of street cricket and TV

Injected with Coercive Morality

while still fantasising a swim in the sea


Vision of my father’s chest swell with pride

Erratic Advices, Some Rushed Choices

made me enlist for the War as my mother cried

Slept dreaming of solving the nation’s crisis

I left my home wide eyed


My dreams were lobotomised

Made to forget my human existence

My rifle became my most valued prize

I become a machine despite my resistance


My childhood heroes were dead

Dali and Fellini were long forgotten

Now I dreamt of Stabbing People with my Bayonet

The artist in me was called down trodden


They snatched away my paintbrush

Replaced it with an M – 14

Obliterating  memories of my childhood crush

Even the kiss in our late teens


Yellow, crinkly and unread lies my Edgar Allen Poe

As I am forced fed etiquette

To eat, to greet, to put on the damndest fake show

Whilst Ripping out their souls to desecrate


I sacrificed everything to serve my beloved nation

Commanding Officers made me sweat blood

While they pimped my country right to her castration

Washing away their conscience in the torrential flood


Ordered to kill and maim

A masochistic competition

Everything became

Immune to Attrition

Snatching children from their mothers, unashamed


Brothers, Fathers, Sons and Daughters

Bodies in Neatly Wrapped Coffins

Everyone leaked of viscous red water

And I get colourful ribbons with special pins


My cross-hairs on some random unlucky bastard

In some other world we might have a joke to share

Now his mutilated face brings my camp to laughter

Dimming the loss of our own bombardier


They Say we won the war

Politicians Make speeches and smile

Everyone rejoices in delusions of grandeur

The Corpses lie still,  making the soil fertile


I lost my mother’s gifted amulet

I do not remember my village tree

I am nothing but a bullet

Sir, My name  is three nought three!
– Arnav Bhattacharya


Un-named son

This particular challenge from Leo had me thinking a lot. The topic ‘ Speak from the voice of an aborted boy (fetus)’.

It has kept me wondering what could I write that has not already been written. The topic was even more challenging as writing about an aborted girl is easier as there is a lot of info out there already to form ideas.

So, to write this challenge, I am going to make an assumption, and that is of the one child rule being applicable. For those not aware of this, this law states that each couple can only have one child.  This policy is followed presently in China as a means of population control! However, my story is not based in China, but is general in nature.



Dear mom and dad,

This is my letter from heaven to both of you. I want to tell you that I have reached here safely and that you should now take care of yourselves. When I reached here, I was introduced to many girls who are like me, they were never given a chance to be born.

I know mom when I was a part of you, you used to think I could have been a gentleman. What I did today was not the behaviour of a gentleman and I am sorry. When these girls told me that they had been killed before birth so that a boy could be born, I laughed very loudly in front of them. I did not mean to laugh at them, but it is how they concieved it.

You must be knowing dad why I was laughing. I laughed because in my case, something very different happened. The difference was that for me, the reason was not any stigma attached to my gender but the law of the land. Once when I was a part of you mom, I remember you reading a book that said “Law is a means to impart justice to all”. So where is my justice mom and dad?

The law forbids you from having more than one child. Then why conceive me at all? How is the law fair that I am already a living being and then am killed. Should they not have made an exception for me as I was already living inside you?

The elders from our land here tell me that there are no exceptions in law, and that my wanting to be an exception is kiddish. But that’s who I am, your kid. Why did you kill me?

You could have given birth to me and given me to someone else who did not have a child. It would have been painful for me to part from you but it would have been better than death. Did that not strike you both?

Again I am told that you may not have wanted to get into the legal hassles of explaining a second child and then putting me up for adoption. Also it would have been painful for you to give me away as by then I would be a human being with emotions. But was I not so when you killed me?

What kind of a law is this that is superior to human lives? I thought the law was for us and it was not the other way around. Please mom and dad, tell everyone around you to not do what you did to me.

Tell them to be careful not to get pregnant if they do not want a baby. And if the lady does, please don’t kill the baby like you killed me. There are other ways. Respect the law but also respect our lives please.

I am fine here now. I have many friends who are my age and are here for many reasons. The luckiest ones are those who are a little elder than me and who at least met their parents and knew what the joy of it was. They say we are luckier as we never developed that bond which once broken is even more painful. I think it is just perspective.

I am able to say so many intelligent things because as you know, both my grandmothers are here. When they saw me enter heaven they recognized me and since then they have talked to me a lot.

Give a lot of love to my elder sister. And I love you all.

Your unnamed son.


Finally, after a long time from when it was given, here I am writing Rahul Miglani’s challenge to me :

I won’t lie, this got to a lot of time to adapt to, but here it is finally.

“You deserve to be there, not her’. He had said these words when he had come to know exactly why their daughter had died. He had also said, “I have long known of this, but I kept quiet for her sake. For the sake of our 2 year baby. Today  if she is not here, it is your fault. And you deserve to be up there, for the wicked woman that you are.” All this had come a few months  after the ‘accident’ had happened. What initially came on the day he heard the news was sheer denial. His baby, his daughter, dead? That could not be possible. Of course not. But it had indeed happened. Arshia was no more around to cheer them up after a long day. There would be no more demands, tantrums. There would not be any more sleepless nights as she cried. There would only be sleepless nights as they cried for her loss.

His words now ring in my ears, even after 6 months.. Every day I see the pain in his eyes, the pain I had caused him. At times my selfish part tells me it was not my fault, that it was indeed an accident. That it was fate, which could not be changed. But mostly, I am well aware of the fact that it was indeed I who was solely responsible. Had I not been the one to leave the window open to let him in! Had I not been the one to stack bricks right outside the window for it to be easier to climb in! Had I not been the person who ignored my daughter’s calls as I lay behind curtains! If only I had closed the window… If only I had gone on being called… If only…….

Yet again I sit and am reminded of how true his words are. I can do nothing but day after day see him live a zombie life. We do not talk these days. Others tell me he talks to none, even at work. I did not just kill my daughter that day, I killed my husband too.

Tonight again, I will dream of that day, when his colleague and neighbour had come in to meet me during lunch hour. We had known my husband does not come home for lunch. Everyday, this was “our time”, when we quenched our thirsts with each other. Tonight yet again, I will see her walk into the room, calling out to me, looking for me. I will remember not answering her though I was right there, behind the curtains on our bed. I will remember telling him to stay quiet till she left the room. But most of all, i will remember seeing her bend and look out of the window, fall over and I will remember forever the sound of her skull crushing on the bricks. Tonight again, I will lie awake thinking of my sins. Tonight will be another sleepless night. Unless I sleep now…. forever. I killed my family that day, it is now my turn.

I can see the floor coming closer now. I can now meet her and say sorry. Here it is… my death.. just a few seconds away… Here………


P.S. The exact challenge was

Write a story about the suicide of a women , who lost her child that fell out of the window while she was making out with the neighbour.


I know this is just one side of the coin. But I personally believe this is the bigger and heavier side. I found this on the internet today and I just had to share it…. it made me cry! Literally!

Hi, Mommy.

I’m your baby. You don’t know me yet, I’m only a few weeks old. You’re going to find out about me soon, though, I promise. Let me tell you some things about me. My name is John, and I’ve got beautiful brown eyes and black hair. Well, I don’t have it yet, but I will when I’m born. I’m going to be your only child, and you’ll call me your one and only. I’m going to grow up without a daddy mostly, but we have each other. We’ll help each other, and love each other. I want to be a doctor when I grow up.

You found out about me today, Mommy! You were so excited, you couldn’t wait to tell everyone. All you could do all day was smile, and life was perfect. You have a beautiful smile, Mommy. It will be the first face I will see in my life, and it will be the best thing I see in my life. I
know it already.

Today was the day you told Daddy. You were so excited to tell him about me! …He wasn’t happy, Mommy. He kind of got angry. I don’t think that you noticed, but he did. He started to talk about something called
wedlock, and money, and bills, and stuff I don’t think I understand yet. You were still happy, though, so it was okay. Then he did something scary, Mommy. He hit you. I could feel you fall backward, and
your hands flying up to protect me. I was okay… but I was very sad for you. You were crying then, Mommy. That’s a sound I don’t like. It doesn’t make me feel good. It made me cry, too. He said sorry after,
and he hugged you again. You forgave him, Mommy, but I’m not sure if I do. It wasn’t right. You say he loves you… why would he hurt you? I don’t like it, Mommy.

Finally, you can see me! Your stomach is a little bit bigger, and you’re so proud of me! You went out with your mommy to buy new clothes, and you were so so so happy. You sing to me, too. You have the most
beautiful voice in the whole wide world. When you sing is when I’m happiest. And you talk to me, and I feel safe. So safe. You just wait and see, Mommy. When I am born I will be perfect just for you. I will
make you proud, and I will love you with all of my heart.

I can move my hands and feet now, Mommy. I do it because you put your hands on your belly to feel me, and I giggle. You giggle, too. I love you, Mommy.

Daddy came to see you today, Mommy. I got really scared. He was acting funny and he wasn’t talking right. He said he didn’t want you. I don’t know why, but that’s what he said. And he hit you again. I got angry,
Mommy. When I grow up I promise I won’t let you get hurt! I promise to protect you. Daddy is bad. I don’t care if you think that he is a good person, I think he’s bad. But he hit you, and he said he didn’t want
us. He doesn’t like me. Why doesn’t he like me, Mommy?

You didn’t talk to me tonight, Mommy. Is everything okay?

It’s been three days since you saw Daddy. You haven’t talked to me or touched me or anything since that. Don’t you still love me, Mommy? I still love you. I think you feel sad. The only time I feel you is when
you sleep. You sleep funny, kind of curled up on your side. And you hug me with your arms, and I feel safe and warm again. Why don’t you do that when you’re awake, any more?

I’m 21 weeks old today, Mommy. Aren’t you proud of me? We’re going somewhere today, and it’s somewhere new. I’m excited. It looks like a hospital, too. I want to be a doctor when I grow up, Mommy. Did I tell
you that? I hope you’re as excited as I am. I can’t wait.

Mommy, I’m getting scared. Your heart is still beating, but I don’t know what you are thinking. The doctor is talking to you. I think something’s going to happen soon. I’m really, really, really scared,
Mommy. Please tell me you love me. Then I will feel safe again. I love you!

Mommy, what are they doing to me!? It hurts! Please make them stop! It feels bad! Please, Mommy, please please help me! Make them stop!

Don’t worry Mommy, I’m safe. I’m in heaven with the angels now. They told me what you did, and they said it’s called an abortion.

Why, Mommy? Why did you do it? Don’t you love me any more? Why did you get rid of me? I’m really, really, really sorry if I did something wrong, Mommy. I love you, Mommy! I love you with all of my heart. Why don’t you love me? What did I do to deserve what they did to me? I want to live, Mommy! Please! It really, really hurts to see you not care about me, and not talk to me. Didn’t I love you enough? Please say
you’ll keep me, Mommy! I want to live smile and watch the clouds and see your face and grow up and be a doctor. I don’t want to be here, I want you to love me again! I’m really really really sorry if I did
something wrong. I love you!

I love you, Mommy..♥ =(

->Every abortion is just:

-One more heart that was stopped.. =(
-Two more eyes that will never see.. =(
-Two more hands that will never touch.. =(
-Two more legs that will never run.. =(
-One more mouth that will never speak.. =(


P.S. A post you must read… The ‘unfamiliar’ Bane and My story

P.P.S. I would be next blogging on the 14th… so take care till then.