The world is in a combat mode, mother.
They want to destroy me by some means or other.
But I fail to understand, why they want to kill?
Why is it that they bear such ill will?
What crime did I commit, what is my sin?
Why do they oppose me? What do they mean?
It’s not in my hand that I am born a girl.
How can they be so callous and brutal?
Please Ma… do answer me.
It is better that the slayer be thee.
I thought that the world was a place divine,
But they want to snuff out this frail life of mine.
Tell them I’m no threat as I am too weak.
You are my protector Ma… your help I seek.
You’re helpless, I know Ma…there’s nothing you can do.
I cry out, dear Ma…for I’m helpless too.
No friends I have, but only foes, who’re out to kill me.
So my Ma…it’s better that the slayer be thee.
Ma…at heart, I do cherish my life
And I wish to be born free and only to survive.
I wish to see colours change with season.
I pray that all men see enough reason.
I desire to earn praise, honour and acclaim.
I desire to be a girl, not one to bring you shame.
But if my birth is shameful for thee,
Ma…It’s better for you to kill me.
Discriminate not, I beg of you.
Pray don’t be cruel and shun me too.
I don’t wish you misery and to give you bad name
If bearing me and rearing me, brings about shame.
So I cry and request you so humbly
Ma… It’s better for you to kill me.
Ma…by being a girl I’ve learnt a hard lesson,
That the world is my rival without rhyme or reason.
so, sadly, with heavy heart I go back to Heaven.
I love you and will miss you Ma…you were my haven.
Ma…dear Ma…I can’t bear such cruelty.
So Ma… It’s better for you to kill me.