Project Description

About Vasvi

Vasvi is a an undergraduate student currently pursuing Law at Queen Mary University London. Born and brought up in Kolkata, she has had a passion to write since second grade. She has previously won writing competitions at The International School Bangalore and her writing has been highly commended by the Radiant Peace Foundation International. She has been deeply moved by the issue of human trafficking after reading books such as “Half The Sky” by Nicholas Kristof and Sheryl WuDunn. This drove her to organise a One Billion Rising awareness flash mob, volunteer with many anti-trafficking NGOs and also represent India at the “Students Opposing Slavery Summit” (2015) in President Lincoln’s Cottage, Washington D.C. In March 2017, she was a part of the team that won the “Best Game” award for human trafficking educational games for Tanzanian children at “Rule of Law Innovation Competition” held by Lawyers Without Borders.

In the Red Light.

Twelve in age. Body of puberty.
Innocence brimming in each eye.
Cheeks lush and soft.
But who cares? It’s a she.
And all hers have the apple.

Abandoned from love.
Hometown. Society. Shoved into
The rue of reality.
Virgin Mary. Ripe cherries. Lot’s of pockets
Ready for the jingling. Tied
To a bed and then excitement.
One-sided excitement.
One-sided ignorant disgust.

Moans and screams.
Pulling and pushing.
The old enjoying the young.
And then, it’s the second time.
It’s just Mary now. Nothing special on the menu.
Just plain Mary.
Then third. Fourth. Fifth.
Now, no screams.
No pushing. Just doing
What one has to do. Part of life.
Breathe in breathe out.

Clean escapes are a reality only in the movies.
Big screens that show big things.
Not life.
Anyway, who knows what’s down there?
Behind that strange corner, or in that
Rotten, old house? No one.
The best part is, not even us.

– Vasvi Kejriwal

I Wish To See.

I wish to see a place where we are not
For the plumpness of our breasts sold
Or rather we are not merely bought
For how well we do what we are told.
Where our staple diet is not pain
And tears do not merge with rain.
No moans to furnish the locked rooms
Or clinking latches that gloom and fume.
For the bed inside must stop its cry
Since it makes our ears wry.

I wish to see a place where we are not
For the roundness of our hips known
Neither for how our lips tightly taut
Look when smeared in cherry tone.
Where someone calls our name
Not to do any other sort than talk,
Not to sate, touch or any of the same.
Or even relax mouth muscle into lock.
For we are not bodies of puberty, shy
With innocence brimming in each eye.

I wish to see a place where we are not
Bereft of feathers to grow our wing.
And where we are not just a shot
Stray pigeon that was simply, trying,
To flap, and flap, and break through,
Through the pushing and the pulling,
Through the lovely red hue,

Of ruby lipstick and virgin blood.

I wish to see a place where
Love is a feeling that may be felt.
And the eye may learn not to tear
And after all we may see them melt.
For if you are human,
You do wry and cry,
As the emotions intensify.

– Vasvi Kejriwal