कविता
This frame of her, with feminine appearance
Though full of delicacy and fragrance
But it’s effete before the power of
Enormity and dominance
Frail and fragile her skin and hair
Easy to grab and take hold of
Her mushy and knead able tiny heart
Remains always in danger.
Its pulsation is so quiet and calm
Sound of which is rarely heard
Whenever she gazes at herself in mirror
Anyone can perceive she is beautiful but scared
Her shape of colleen, always a subject of attraction
For atrocities and barbarities
They know the heinous use of this holy creation
Who experiment with it for mere recreation.
They enjoy to see her burning feeble effigy
Acrid odor of the burning body
Makes them more monstrous and frenzy.
They watch how long she will bear
The heat of fire and their insanity.
It is not the story of the day
Her body bears the scars since long ago.
Her this sacred body of flesh and bones
Had never been a treasure concealed.
It always remains unfurled and close by
Very near to those who crave to crush her remains.
Her blithe shape always keeps on sprinting
For the serving all in vain
For a while when she is weary, she stops, pause, stand up
And starts again and again
She simply smiles, blossom like a sunflower
Predators Understanding themselves a gent
Oppress her for weird experiments
Her indispensable body cry with courage
To show her resent
She stand up to combat without any support
To show herself heroic again and again
And left a question behind her name
Is her gent really a mighty man?
He who was there
Those too who were not there….
Sanjay Handa (Famous Writer & Novelist, Haridwar, India)
[email protected]
