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While the world celebrates this day 8th March as Women's Day ,let me sing a lore of the rise of a woman from the age old clutches and freedom in which she soars breaking the pinions that imprisoned her mind,body and soul... to create a niche of herself in this universe , when she rises from the fire of struggles , like a phoenix.

It’s a dream ,
a simple wish
neither jewels fancy me
nor the glitter of being rich…
as a tiny colourful bird,
I want to wing my feathers
spreading in the open air
to hover over the colourless ocean…

Clipped , chained,
I lay in tethers
in the dark abyss
The dust of nostalgia
suffocates my nostrils…

From ages , restrained I am
crumpled like a rose ,petals crushed,
Oh! Who doth seen ,
The blood that oozes
When Iam strangled within my shelter…

Buried beneath the fire ablaze
Watch the smoke moving high
kisses the clouds white…
I await…to be born again..
from the ashes of the pyre…
Like a phoenix ..of modern times.




SSD's picture

Profound !

Ah, my dear Soumya ! Your verse speaks between breath and speech, tugs the heart and resurrects the senses and sensibilities.

"The dust of nostalgia
suffocates my nostrils" -- one can also smell its' ashes and residues - you have not only written a very profound piece, but, a very necessary one - for each human to probe within and cultivate space for introspection.
You are such a significant paradigm in our world ! Love your ink, more and more.


Soumya Vilekar's picture

Thank you dear

Dear Shaheen,
when "the dust of nostalgia " is felt through your nostrils as I write here about the lines, I feel the verse reaches its mark and achieves the perfectness of sense and sensibility. You as a reader do make the lines comes alive with the thoughts. Iam happy I could express a simple thought as this one, as a woman and oculd tribute it on the women's day. For every day ,should now be a day of woman,where she proclaims herself as the winner and leader of her own.
Thank you once again for the ever encouragement and inspiration,

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