By Sunil sharma

Some notes haunt!

Ovid spotted Philomela in the elusive nightingale and heard her plaintive song that moved his heart to compose his version of the metamorphosis.

He recunted a horror tale of the yore.

Its echoes resound even today.

Other poets, before and after too heard the same song of the hybrid creature, human-bird, flying in the dangerous woods, and felt enraged by the unjust travail of an innocent, trusting woman being lusted after by the kin.

Incest!

The victim—the hapless girl, as always, made silent.

Hush!

Listen to the pain, reverberating in that ancient grove.

The sad tone!

The source fleeting and invisible.

Even the wind moans!

The mutilated princess; a fair maiden, pining for sister in a dark cabin, alone, suffering but relentless in her fight for justice for a wrong done on body and soul, and, finally got transformed by the gods so that she could avoid a pursuing king mad for revenge.

She wanted to tell the world about the humiliation and the ordeal.

As nightingale, she does that— lamenting about violation of women at the hands of powerful men; the latter going unpunished, ready for repeat offense.

Shout  out I will, Philomela had promised. She the fearless one, ready to take on the aggressor, head-on.

She paid the heavy price for the bold stand— KingTereus cut her tongue, imprisoned her but could not break her resolve to speak out against the abuse of women.

She took revenge on the tyrant with the assistance of her sister Procne, united by anger against the heinous crime, by killing his son, thus finishing next line of successors to a dirty throne.

Ovid’s document and moral protest get continually ignored by the system.

Sadly, Philomela walks alone, in the New Millennium,

still threatened; and unsafe, in home and outside, on the street!