THE BOXED THOUGHTS

SHE

She was a girl of little importance.. She was not a damsel or a princess. But there was fire in her eyes. The fire of determination. Fire of dreams to be fullfilled. She never saw it ,but others did. But others never understood it ,but she did. She always dreamt of her future prince. Her shining eyes and glossy lips always waited for the arrival of her prince. One day. She met her prince,the charming one who came on white horse, she believed destiny made them meet, And she prayed let the same destiny unite them!! Days passed. Everyday she saw him. But she was afraid to come out of her shell. Another day. As she walked, he came. He walked towards her. she paused. As he reached closer her heart wrenched from its seat. And now there is no distance between them. He smiled and reached for her lips. she closed her eyes. They kissed. It was deep. He looked at her. She tried to be normal.. But there was nothing normal around her .

My Tagless Name

(Written as a part of International Women's Day 2018. This poem was published in Delhi Poetry Slam on March 15 2018.) I'm Beautiful. But, I'm called inferior, I'm a Housewife. I'm called a bitch, I'm a Whore. I'm named as powerless, I'm the Company CEO. I'm called the blabbering witch, I'm a Grandma. I'm called careless I'm a Nurse. I'm known as no sex, I'm a Trans. I'm termed as the backward, I'm an Indian. I may not be fond of men, But that doesn't define me. I cannot be reduced to a column in an application form. My hands and legs are exuberant enough to do sundry duties. I change my cloaks several times, and hide in tangled forests, expecting your empty handed return. My ugliness laughs at your hollowness as I bath in the Blue Sea. I walk around the globe and touch your horoscopic stars. I tread through your ways , the prisoner light breaks its shackles and encroaches my body.

THE DREAMCATCHER ( A Poem)

She tried. And made the hoops from willows to wove those magical webs. Wrapped the hoop with suede lacing. The string was woven onto the hoop. Hours passed. She wove some of her favourite decorations to it. Feathers and gemstones, hidden with meanings. Hours passed. But she wanted it to be perfect. And finally, here it is. THE DREAMCATCHER. She hung it on her bedroom wall and watched it carefully. Rubbed it with an artist's pride. The hoop smiled, ensuring the travel of sun through the mighty sky. She thought that when night comes the hole in the center would only let Bawedjige( good dreams)pass. She would be able to sleep safe and sound today. The nightmares will never ever haunt her. For she has her Dreamcatcher. And Bawedjigewin( bad dreams) will be trapped in the web, to be dispelled at the first light of morning. She slept. The sun rays pierced into her eyes. She opened her eyes with the innocence of a newborn babe. The thought stroke her. She

THE FORGOTTEN STORIES

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