I know this world seems a confusing place
I see the questions looming large on your little face
As you start piecing together
The breaking news
Remnants of grownup talks
Theories of your friends
To plot a map that will
Be your guide.
But what map can take you past doors locked twice
Or help you see through all the hollow advice
We hand out
Hoping that the devices
The safety apps
and the tracking
Will keep you safe
Knowing that this armour is as unreal
As the virtual world that birthed it.
And will come crumbling
The moment you walk into walls
Created by the taradiddle of the mighty
Beti bachao now seeming more a warning than a slogan of change.
Dear child, I don't know what lies to sprout
As I stammer to answer your questions about
Why anyone would kill an eight year old
And I want you to believe that
our streets aren't as unsafe
As the meadows she called home.
But I know these lies won't serve both you and I.
So despite every instinct to hold you tight
I know you'll need to learn how to fight
These lies, these bastions of blind power
And for that here's all I can tell
Never be afraid to take a stand
And speak up though you may be a lonely voice
Trust the map inside your being
Deciding your own set of truths to live by
Never resting on what seem like wins
For the best of the gardens always need weeding
And know that past these dark, confusing times
There would be a glorious sunrise waiting, my little girl
To remind you about the wonders of our precious world.
