The torturer, the tortured

The heavy lock unbolted,
My fellow companion gloated,
The limp figure of a young girl,
Her hair hung loose dishevelled,
The sickening sound of the body being dragged along,
Broke the silence that hung so long.


Confident, inhuman footsteps were heard,
I experienced the familiar stomach lurch,
I splashed a bucket of freezing water on her, a dreaded daily routine,
General Yamashita did not even blink,
Her peaceful sleep ended,
To her, help was not rendered,

Her first sight was the menacing eyes which paralyzed her stirring fear,
The girl’s inward screams, he did not hear,
Her eyes registered terror,
Wishing she had been born in a land fairer
Eagerly, my partner slammed her onto the cross,
And tied her using salvage force.


I reached for the offending whip,
With a sweaty palm I tightly gripped,
He trained his cold-blooded eyes on me and gave a brisk nod,
I knew it wasn’t my fault,
Let this end soon, I prayed to God,

I saw her glance away,
Desperately asking for someone to take her away,
The situation in reality was so hopeless,
Nobody could fight her fate, so tragic, so helpless,
And neither could I.


She seemed to be recalling the fond memories of the past,
And knew that she would not last,
I raised my whip,
And brought it down on her mercilessly with a wrist flick,
Silent tears rolled down her pale cheeks,
I cried silently, I shouldn’t torture for kicks,

The brave determination in her eyes,
Made me heavily sigh,
I handed the whip to my partner now insane,
His beastly slashing made me look away,
And the expression he had was gay,
General Yamashita held up his hand,
Signaling us to stop, revealing bloody bands.


From his mouth he withdrew the cigar,
Casually, he stubbed the cigar to her neck,
And twisted its end into bits,
Her face was expressionless,
The reaction was a first,
It was sheer bravery,
A determination gallery,

The general stripped her down to bra,
He turned to me,
And demanded some dirty salt in glee,
With trembling hands, I handed him a rusty tin,
Slowly, lingering, his fingers sprinkled pinches of salt on her wound,
Her much awaited screams filled the room soon,
Colour drained from her face,
As if she’s floating in a haze.


General Yamashita was satisfied at last,
He had her all he wanted,
With a dismissive wave,
He walked away,
Fainter and fainter his dreaded footsteps grew,
They dragged her body so frail,
Leaving behind a thin blood trail…