by Kritika Bhatia
Dreams are free of cost,
The richest can dream,
So can the poor,
Thoughts gather like film scenes.
There's no 'class' for dreams,
Anyone can dream of anything,
Poverty may be a hurdle for some,
And for some, a new platform dreams bring.
A small town girl,
Dreams of becoming an air hostess,
Little did she know about their lives,
She only saw them on television, newspapers and posters and thought that all the qualities she could possess.
Time went by,
She became an adult,
She was tall, slender and beautiful,
And performed her duties with cult.
She got a chance to work in a flight,
She liked to help the passengers,
And got lots of delight,
When she received accolades for her duty by the manager.
Once, while she was on duty,
Someone spied on her beauty,
He saw her as a sex object,
His orders she couldn't reject.
He followed her to the pantry,
And assaulted her sexually,
There she lay, in a pool of blood,
Naked, and everyone assembled around her while on the scud.
She needed help urgently,
The crew hospitalized immediately,
But she was declared dead on arrival,
The journey of her life was like a scribble.
No goals, no direction,
She was 'used' to attract mens' attention,
Thus, her life had halted there,
She had no drinks, no affair.
Justice for her is pending,
The accused is absconding,
No doubt, the case was ignored completely,
Her dreams were shattered, though turned into reality.
Last updated June 22, 2016