Survivor

A little girl with an enormous dream,

Walked the path, with a shiny gleam.

Her doll and crayons formed her rainbow,

Lessons of her parents made her grow.

 

She danced like a golden feather,

Listed her goals in a diary of leather.

She took mysterious steps every day,

Struggled but found a unique way.

 

Days rolled but nights shone,

With her aura, she was known.

Relatives and friends praised her more,

Her exceptional moves rocked the floor.

 

The pages of her diary had never wondered,

A dreadful incident would leave her thundered.

Two figures would shake her innocent life.

The first was a Demon with a lethal knife.

 

Darkness surrounded this virtuous soul,

She always questions, “What was my role?”

This day would swap a different face,

She wonders, “Was this by God’s grace?”

 

After long practice, she walked back,

To lovely home, unaware of impeding attack.

A Demon with a bottle haunted her heart,

Spilled the acid on her face, hit like a dart.

 

Her beautiful face blazed and stung,

Men and women gathered, both old and young.

Pain and her cries, couldn’t let them shake,

But an Angel rescued and let her wake.

 

To the hospital, he made her reach,

A life was saved with a lesson to teach.

Her face was ruined and the beauty gone,

Her Sun now longed for a delayed dawn.

 

 Only who she could now find by her side

Were her parents, in a world so wide?

Irony crept in the cave of her mind,

All her friends now left her behind.

 

Relatives gossiped and cursed the girl,

Who will marry her in this world?

A “monster”, a “victim”, was she regarded,

Like a filthy dump, she was discarded.

 

In the mirror, she looks and tears roll down,

What has happened? “I wish I could drown.”

But this was a phase which passed in haste,

Her Life is precious and not a waste.

 

From her parents, she gathered strength,

From dance and music, she devised breath,

From Nature, she nurtured and lived the moment,

From herself, she invented the missing component.

 

Beauty is not the golden key to live,

It’s the Happiness and the spirit to give.

She opened a Dance class in years which passed,

With Survivors like her, she smiles at last.

-By Akash Singh

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Father

My Papa is my true best friend,

He’s my superhero with an exceptional power,

Robust figure, with an emotional blend.

He’s the rain who blossoms my withered flower.

 

Tireless work, infinite time, pain unexpressed,

He’s my teacher, values and lessons, he has showered.

Pa! You are my umbrella when it rains,

You uplift and inspire me to be the best.

I touch your feet and feel empowered.

I pray Almighty to take away all your pains.

 

Happy Father’s Day! 

Mother

Mother is the sweetest gift of life,

Without her, I can’t dream to thrive.

She loves, cares and never complains,

She’s Panacea who takes away my pains.

 

My mother, I touch your pious feet,

In my discordant life, you are a blissful beat.

As Almighty created this wonderful Earth,

You have composed and given me birth.

 

When tears roll down my dazzling eyes,

With a doting hug, you help me rise.

For my long life you devotedly pray,

Your scrumptious delicacies perfect my day.

 

 O goddess, what a charm you possess!

When gloominess surrounds, you bless.

In every happy moment and painful cry,

Your hands I hold and reach the shining sky.

A Golden Heart

Shiny pearls which see with perfection,

Fall into a pit of lies and deception.

Colourful hair perfectly styled,

Puzzles minds and makes us blind.

 

The world is a food full of spices,

Where Destiny rolls inevitable dices.

Harshness of winter, bleakness of night,

Cruelty breaks the mirror of wrong and right.

 

Colours of clothes, perfection of skin,

Turn into ashes, does ambition win?

Warmth of kindness and power of a smile,

Make you a star which never forgets to shine.

Though Truth hurts us with this dart,

But what is remembered is a Golden Heart.

Fame

He took steps to make his name,

They called it friendly Fame.

A robust player played the game,

He won the ferocious Fame.

His talents shine like a flame,

Dazzling the darkening Fame.

No wonder he’s no longer the same,

Reaching the pinnacle of Fame.

 

Auditions and concerts introduced success,

Fans clap, his art is exceptional, they confess.

With experience, money rolled into his pocket,

To the limelight, he reached like a rocket.

Gossips and criticism surround his mind now,

Fashionable he turns, they scream “Wow.”

 

Time passed after rolling several dices,

His life was filled with many vices.

Where are those gifts and happy days?

His family, friends and homely rays?

His privacy and inner voice have been lost,

He questions himself, is this the cost?

His grandmother’s stories have been erased,

The lovely memories of how he was raised?

 

Alone he stands, with a blurred face,

Unrealistic life with a flawed name.

Now he realises it was a double game,

Mischievously played by the False Fame.