They and everyone else ignored the grumbling and rumbling.
They and everyone else ignored the skeleton-like arms wrapped around the body.
The stony silence ensured that the voice is heard far across, but alas, no one to hear.
Slowly, the pink cradle turned into a furious red of deprivation, of love and hunger.
The chilly winds of the insidious night along with the cunning patriarchy had written her fate.
Hours later, the cradle lay still. There was calmness around. The ‘problem’ was dealt efficiently by placing it on the temple premises.