The Damsel in Distress

She sits alone and pretty,
And put in trouble,
By a villain with grace behind his fierce looks,
She wails in vain,
As she awaits her saviour,
And tears only add to her beauty,

Threat always approaches,
Yet never touches her skin,
Preserving its grandeur,
For it must always endure,

The plot is fixed and so is its end,
All that changes is the means,
With the prince riding in,
Rescuing her in the nick of time,
With a tagline too familiar -

Still she reigns,
The hearts of kids,
Why even those of adults,

The fairy tale's crown,
With all we dream,
This damsel in distress.

Today, we see she's just a plot tool,
A means to tie a man down,
Perhaps still a hostage,
But not the main plot,
She sometimes embodies evil too,

But whether she does,
Or stays loyal and pure,
She's merely a distractive device,

I wonder what,
She would do,
If her man falls in battle,

Would she sit,
Awaiting his return in vain,
Or grieve at least a little?

Or would she merely find,
Another brave soul,
Onto whose arm she will cling?

Well, our fables have grown,

But there's more to learn,
And we've a long way to go,
To realise the simple fact,
That she's as human as the man.

-----

I care not much,
For children's tales,
Not as much as I care for men,

For this pretty tool,
Has leaked from books,
Into the lives of men,
Shaking homes and schools,
Even the lion's den,

It clouds the line,
Between chivalry and trust,
Swaying his muscle about,

She sheds her (crocodile) tears,
And touches his arms,
Gaining more than his confidence,

Using him for her dirty work,
And stripping him of his self,

He follows her scent,
Like a hungry hound,
And cheated of even his meat,

Still he walks behind,
Shielding her,
Up until the butcher's shop,

Where, upon stepping in,
Truth stares into his eyes,
Alas! It's too late, he sees,
As the knife is raised,
That he was a goat for slaughter,
Not the hound he thought.

Written at 9:26pm on 1.1.2017 at C504,  H13, IIT Bombay