He had dared to ride a horse for his wedding.
Challenged the age old rites of Rajputism.
Punishment instant by a kangaroo court.
His feet shod with hooves held with nails through his soles. left to die.
They took him to the big Dilli hospital.
Recovery would take weeks, they were told.
They left him at the mercy of hospital staff n well wishers.
Returned to a threat .... don't ever see him again or else...
Dilli worked its own magic.
An NGO filed a suit; media picked up the issue.
"India wants to know" bellowed TV screens. Donations poured in.
Infections held up recovery.
From the little screen on his mobile he watched
Police rounded up those who had gored him.
The battle will be long. He was told.
Witnesses threatened, bought or bumped off. Judges selected for bias.
Will you n your village last the war?
Years later the verdict came in.
A prematurely aged groom, his harried looking wife and bored son
heard that they been convicted alright.
Leeway for the time already spent in jail
so only a couple of months were left.
The assassins would be free to roam their home stomping grounds.
While the trio could never go home again.
Home? Where was that?