"They're all the same!" she mumbled, "two eyes, two ears, a pair of lips." Only the colour was different and that's what made all the difference.
"What an era it is", they say. Where people no more look into each other's eyes, With omnipotent sighs and squinting sights, Where songs aren't anymore the descriptions of lover's silken eyelashes, Where little ones no more congregate around bonfires to listen to Grandma's fables,
Through the hills tall and bright and free Kissing the feet of all but some deodar trees As I go on bickering away loud and headstrong Gliding through scores of mountains Magnificent I am, in glory all bright and clear
Dear women, we've spent so long aspiring to be "strong" women, not realising that the glorification of strength is itself a patriarchal hang-up! Be vulnerable women, be soft women, be women who falter and fumble and then learn. It's okay, strong is overrated!
Oh! If I could ever fly, up above the world so high, I'd be one of those diamonds in the sky!
And embrace your soul out, creating a rhythm they decry Shayaris to wear on your sleeves Sonnets to adorn the dimples your cheeks cultivate everytime you smile A haiku on crevices of your forehead Weaving stories through the thick black slivers to embellish your eyebrows in broad daylight And some impregnating the craters of your thigh.
To the maple skies we etch our dreams, From the hues of violet we abstract our peace, Eyeing the cotton candy clouds of skies so bright, We glide past days through the rainbows bright and fine!
Ah I'm anxious and again so paleI don't wish to plunge into a perturbed stateNo worries I'll just relax and meditateA cozy and quiet room becomes my escapeInto my lungs, all the fresh air I inhaleAnd then tracking this air becomes the chaseAnd imagining the air as bubbles is such a fun game!A huddle of…
For matters so profound and grave,At whose behest you came out to contemplate?You're a woman, trivial is what's your forté.Avoid the worldly matters,Mind your own business and clothes they sayReckless skin show is to be eschewed,Harbouring shame to a family, putting tags is what they constantly contemplate.And with every step you take, conceal every action,…
Ensconced in a corner with eyes glued to the board,Every syllable escaping his lips, we try to hoard.Never did I realise how arithmetic became art like!Brimming with rage or sometimes jocular as a sage,Arithmetic or art, none could anticipate,Prancing about the class, juggling with articulations,He'd laugh away the thorny arithmetic with his jovial revelations!With the…