Rape Of Ila Poem by Hardik Vaidya

My mother was born ila.
What a lovely name.
Earthy.
From the soil.
Sexy, elegant divine.
When she married,
Her name was changed.
Changed to Varsha.
Logic?
None.
All names in my fathers family began with a V one.
When you change a name, do you change a rose?
Can you change the color of earth by naming her brimstone?
The earth of my soil has not changed,
But my heart weeps at the barbaric feat.
A woman was beheaded, and the Gandhians
Stood naked, bankrupt and shameless.