It was the festive of colors,
A day when the purity of fire
Is challenged on the evil pyre,
They all filled the glorious blue,
With a bright vermilion hue.

And she stood there,
Heart being filled with ecstasy,
Eyes rolling with innocence;
Shy, pink and radiant she was,
Just like a bud ready to bloom.

Little did she know
Of the predator's eyes,
Effervescing with the lust,
In the cacophony, he took her captive laughing,
Letting his teeth out stained in vermilion hue.

She prayed to all the gods,
Doubting their existence,
All her prayers went in vain;
Perhaps, unlike the routine,
Evil won on the virtuous that day.

Minute by minute,
Pain rolled in the rivulet of tears,
Witnessing the evil debut,
Swollen were her eyes,
Burning with the vermilion hue.

She began to quiver,
Unable to move, with fear,
There was a cold feeling,
In between her legs,
That too a vermilion hue.

_____

The festival of colors, popularly known as holi is celebrated as a mark of when Holika (evil), who's immune to fire, while trying to burn Prahalad (good), burned herself into ashes as Prahalad was reciting God's name. The defeat of Holika signifies the burning of all that is bad.

Globally in 2014, 1 billion children aged 2-17 years experienced physical, sexual, emotional or multiple types of violence. One in five women and one in 13 men report having been sexually abused as a child. Unfortunately, these numbers are increasing exponentially day by day.