I’m a story teller by nature, and love the film medium for being such a rich environment that can weave very intricate tales, rich in details, much more than what a book can do in each scene. I especially love films that socially comment on issues in one society or another and brings it to light.

Recently, I heard about a film called ‘Sold’ based on a book about a young Nepali girl sold into human trafficking in India and her quest to find a way back home. It’s a topic I feel very passionate about, especially in situations where girls/women are treated as if they are nothing more than properties of someone who claims them, usually a male figure. I’ve slowly been working on a story that I’d like to myself turn into these dialogue film, but until then, I can only hope other story tellers and film makers keep shedding light to these heinous happenings of young girls being sold to brothels etc. be it anywhere in the world.

I don’t know quite why I felt I needed to post this, but, the movie inspired a poem, and I thought in order to do my tiny bit to keep this issue in light, it would be unjust to keep the poetry to myself. I apologise if the following should disturb anyone, but the intension is to represent perhaps a small fragment in the tapestry…

what little remains
of memories, the hills that rolled
the mother that spoke,
so softly, so softly
the harsh world
hushed, locked away.
The pride you may take, maybe even mute frail voices
bind arms, shackled and weary
not a peep will be, though tears may fall
occasionally, as the night dives deep
so deep, the morning light creeps slowly.
In the rays of light such bygones forgotten brief
and there be the songs, of old hills and homes,
of a corner, safe and cosy
a haven, such small haven
from monsters that be.
Yet, morning brings neigh an image warm.
Sold, questioning humanity.
As night draws close, weary hearts in young bodies
sway with fright, the dread of what lay ahead
heavy. So heavy.

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