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MY SHOULDERS

MY SHOULDERS

When I was born they were bent,
An awkward arch they had.
My mother wound me up in cloth
To support the tender bend.

As I grew up, my shoulders became my best friends.
They had mended their crookedness and were now straight.
They egged me to stand tall and wide, ready to take on the world.
“You persevere and we’ll support you,” they said.

I persevered and they did support me.
Play days over, I went to school.
And they bore the burden of my school bag.
I made friends and they cushioned their sorrows.
They shoved those who bore daggers.

My brother was born and they straightened up even more
Only to help me carry him in my little arms.
“You are now almost a mother,
We cannot let you down,” they said.

He went to school and I moved to college,
Taller and wider than before;
Confident that I would rise above others.
But was I to know that life would play truant?
No I didn’t.

Fresh from my Cinderella world,
I wasn’t prepared to make counter moves
And saw myself loosing the game.
“What are you doing?,” asked my shoulders,
We can’t help you if you don’t stay upright!”

Jolted back to reality, I exchanged my slouch for a straight back
That I was determined will never bend again.
I’ve tried to keep my promise,
Successful I felt I was until life lashed once again.
Now a professional, I was walking the tight rope, juggling home and office.
Children are far away from realities and responsibilities,
And I wanted to be a child all my life.
But life it did not give it a rest.

I pleaded, “I’m still a child. Don’t force me to grow up.”
“Wake up and take of your rose tinted glasses,” it replied.
And when I did concede defeat finally,
Despite my young age I felt at least 10 years older.

Childlike I can be, but childish I cannot be anymore, I realised.
Feeling heavily burdened, I turned to my faithful friends once more.

And this time again they were arched, but in a happy smile.
“Of course! We’ve helped you carry others burdens,
Now it’s time to fulfil our prime role of bearing your burdens.
We’ll carry the heaviest burden of responsibility,
For that’s why we were given to you,” they said.
And I smiled once more. I took the plunge.

I knew that my friends will never let me down.
I moved on and I smiled once more,
A happy childlike smile of an adult.
My mother came once more,
To drape me in cloth, like she did in my childhood.
Only this time it was a comforter to shield me
As I slept after hard day’s work.

Roles changed, I now walk with my head held high.
The emotional baggage is lost, where is it don’t know
And don’t seek to know.

I’ve shed all fear, for with love comes responsibility
And if you don’t fear love, you have no reason to fear responsibility.
How and why came the fear I don’t know,
What lies ahead I don’t know.

I don’t know if I’ve succeeded
In carrying the burden of responsibility.
Some say I’m coping well,
Some say you are yet to do well.

I don’t know how true either case is,
I know I’m not the world’s best daughter or sister.
But I don’t know if I’m that bad too.

I’ve finally grown up, or have I yet to?
I don’t know. I know I’m still my dad’s Cinderella,
But I don’t know if I’ll be able to live up to expectations.

What I know is, if not for my shoulders, I would never have walked with my head held high.
I’ve yet a long way to go for I’ve just begun to shoulder responsibility.
But I know the end will still see me walk with my held high,
Because of my faithful, strong shoulders

-Neha

SOMETHING LIKE THAT

SOMETHING LIKE THAT

Shrieks were ringing in the air.
Blood was painting the walls.
Dead bodies were covering the floor,
For help were most of the calls.

Draped in a jute sack lay a bundle of bloodied rags in my arms.
I struggled my way through havoc to the nearest possible doctor, My God.
The clinic was like an ant hill; people strewn all over like pebbles.

No place to walk into, no sight to see, but this clinic was the only recluse for me.

My heart was pounding. The doctor gave his verdict.
Your child will survive for more or less and hour. I’m sorry but I can’t save your child.

I walked out shattered.
That terrorist I cursed.
A six month old child it is,
A crushed head it has.

Whom did this infant harm?
Which religion did it violate?
What was the reason for it to suffer such a punishment?

I cried. His convulsions too had now stopped.
I eased my crying and placed him on a seat.
I asked the old man beside me, “Can you keep an eye on this?”
He nodded, half drunk.

I went to arrange for my child’s funeral.
I came back to fetch him, but he wasn’t there.

I shook the old man from his stupor and asked, “Where’s the bundle I gave you to look after?” He looked up intoxicated and replied, “Yeah, there was something like that here. It was smelling so I threw it into the garbage truck. There it goes.” The words had hardly escaped his mouth and he went back into a drunken sleep again.

At a distance I saw the truck as it turned onto the road to anonymity.

It had ‘something like that’. A smelly bundle, a bundle that was my child, now minced to unrecognisable pieces, torn to shreds in the jaws of the huge metal monster.

‘Something like that’ – my child who neither got to live decently nor die in peace. All because of a merciless communal society.


– Neha

TRUST AND BELIEF

TRUST AND BELIEF

Trust is what binds people
Trust is what keeps you going
Trust is what is there
When all hopes fail you

Trust is the heart of any relation
On trust lies the fulfillment of any commitment
Faith and belief are the sole factors
That keep you will intact when all desert you

When you are at a threshold in life,
When your emotions confuse you,
When the devil works his dirty power on you,
Trust your instinct and you will know the right

Believe in yourself to excel
Believe in your dear ones to prosper
Believe in your belief, and you will find
Love is around to take care

Believe in the one who love you
They will be fair and just when you mind fails you
Believe in the ones who care for you, they will never hurt you,
But by hurting them you are hurting a genuine concern

If love be the essence of humanity,
Trust is its fragrance,
Belief its blossom,
Honesty its beauty

The sun sets each morning;
We with unshakeable trust believe it will rise the next morning.
Likewise, when darkness engulfs you and reigns your heart,
Trust and faith spread rays of hope to make you shine out

A blind man believes in his stick,
A deaf man in his vibrations,
If the power of trust strengthens their existence
Then, you and I are weak mortals when placed next to them

Trust is powerful – the unshatterable;
Trust is binding – the ever-strengthening;
Trust is commitment – the way to fulfillment

Trust is in me, Trust in you
Join them together and Trust is in us.
Trust in each other – that is Peaceful Happiness
Trust in each other – that is Eternal Euphoria

-Nehu

A FLOWER’S WOE

A FLOWER’S WOE


A flower had bloomed in nature,
She had her dreams and future,
She dreamt of love and happiness,
But that was not what she possessed.

She grew into a maiden fair
But always longed for care.
She had no one to lean on,
She was sad and alone.

She stayed mum and quiet
No one understood her plight.
Her only friend and company
Was her loneliness and agony.

She had her planes for future
But could not face torture.
She had no vent, no outlet,
She smiled the most but was the saddest.

Why could not someone listen to her?
Why could no one understand?
She too had the right to live
A life of love, happiness and joy.

-Neha

HANDS

HANDS

When they come together, they can make or break.
They unite to destroy, they unite to create.

A finger raised can mute the world,
A finger raised can insult the victor.
A finger raised can say, “I Love You Too”
A finger raised can say, “You Are Not Worthy”

A hand unites to construct the greatest beauty of world.
A hand rises to eliminate the basic of humanity.

A hand is beauty; a hand is power.
A hand is fragile; a hand is sensitivity.
A hand is assurance; a hand is ignorance.
A hand is love; a hand is discipline.
A hand is language; a hand is vision.
A hand is speech; a hand is the Universe.

A hand fills in the gap in another’s heart through his hand – Joining, Promising, Binding.
A hand empties the well in another’s heart through an escape – Leaving, Hurting, Breaking.

One hand in another we all walk together, caught in an emotional web,
In fear we tread, to light, to glory, to dark, to sleep.


– Neha