The black saree and a red rose (darkness of child trafficking)

The black saree and a red rose (darkness of child trafficking)

Child trafficking is a serious problem in our country. It is indeed a crime because it not only raids away the innocence from the children but also exploits them mainly for labour or sexual slavery. Any child nearby you can be a victim.

Ever looked around? Well, the question is – Is there any cure for this disease? Not till we all unite together to fight against it. So in addition, I strongly request my readers to confront this bug to eradicate it from our society.

This is an instance narrating the story of a young girl forced into trafficking. She is so hopeless. The only thing left to do is to compromise. Moreover, these children undergo physical and mental trauma. They certainly take a lot of time to recover of the torture they had to face during the exploitation.

But on the other hand, as a citizen it is our duty to create awareness among people around us. So that we save at least one child because even one can set as an example to challenge the issue. However, there are various organisations to help the victims, it is high time that we raise our hands to volunteer.

In conclusion, I would like to say that we should always move forward to help our Nation to eliminate the evil, after all we all can be a hero to someone. In other words, being silent and ignoring child trafficking can be hazardous.

Read the blog below to feel the immense pain of the young girl dragged into child trafficking-

She dusted the edge of her saree

and in a swing, pleated it over her fragile shoulders

this black saree, with a silver sequin border

a deep blouse to flaunt her brown skin

she adored herself looking in the mirror

picked up the red rose on the dressing table 

and neatly tucked it behind her ears

with her ring finger she took the soot burnt in the oil lamp

and carefully placed it on the corner of her eyes

the red lipstick was lying in the drawer, deserted

she picked it up and put it on the creases of her lips

later to fill the empty spaces and dab, dab

she placed her fingertips on the mirror

and groped gently,

over her polished image

tantalizing eyes, shimmery cheeks and that forehead glow

she was then called

to be in the limelight

all flashes and clicks and giggles and smiles

a bunch of girlfriends around made her tickled pink

she smiled at the spotlight

heedless of the moment,

folded her hands on her waist and tilted

to expose a bit more of her beautiful skin

and pouted

poses. clicks. bids. re-poses. 

dirty laughs. filthy compliments. 

a middle-aged man in the audience came near to her

smashed her beautifully lined lip with his thumb

annihilated the red rose behind her ears

and gave an obnoxious smile

dragged her from whence she came out with a hope

where she wondered if this beauty was meant to be adored

the shindig became chaotic as she leaped

she was to be burnt on fire, alive

closed her eyes, to breathe for one last time

inside the closed doors

and in the tranquility of night

her dignity was unbuttoned,

her audacity was unhooked,

and her pragmatism was undraped

she no more loved that black saree;

polished to cloddish, shimmer to twilight

the storm within a teenager schoolgirl shattered into pieces…