i am your brother PUNEET SIMAAR I brought you a poem In which a daughter gets raped and what does she tell her mother Listen carefully Mother I had cried, I had also folded my hands. They were poor, they broke my hands. I was screaming, everyone was surrounded. Nobody heard your daughter’s wall also turned away. Someone held my hand, someone was torn my clothes. One did the limit, mother stood up and stared at my chest. Someone held my hand, someone pulled my hair. There was no person, mother, I could see them all. they did not leave even a Sardine on my body. He broke the bottle of alcohol on my chin. See, I had all those laughs. Do not let my voice go out. Songs were played in a loud voice. I died crying, what do I know what happened next? God must have cried seeing my condition. Your soul must have trembled while writing Hey Puneet, your pen will also break and start crying.