It was from a book I hold
A lot of stories yet to be told
Containing magic and wonders to unfold
Journeys of heroes brave and bold.

It was from a book and all thag it contain
The stories and experiences that will remain
All the knowledge I continuously gain
Will all be kept inside my brain.

It was from a book that I developed my skills
Brought me the things that would remain still
Allowed me to travel through lands and hills
With timeless excitement and thrill.

It was from a book wherein I learned
From where I felt the longingness I yearned
The things in reality that cannot be earned
It was from a book that the world has turned.

Blue ink was no friend
Blue ink was the most boring plan
For the trees and hills Suzy ran
When Mama came with a stick in her hand

For months and years Suzy despaired
This forced acquaintance she wished to be spared
This Hulk of a character Mama'd personify
This waste of time, she knew not why

I just wanna be free, Suzy lamented
An uproarious laughter, with which she was greeted
Why do you act all so tormented, said this voice
Without blue ink, you will be mistreated

How do you carve a path of your own
How do you enforce a right you wouldn't have known
How do you right a wrong you don't condone
How do you condone life when left alone

To the books and pages Suzy ran
Devouring much material in the given span
In a solid colour, she saw a world of wonder
In its simple strokes, there was no more to be coaxed

In happiness and despair, Suzy was elevated
In health and sickness, she knew to be liberated
In company and solitude, Suzy was educated
In wealth and poverty, she knew she had profited

Blue ink had granted her the highest of privileges
For to live well, is to live with choice
A coveted privilege, with which we rejoice

To read people like books
I've read many books in my time
Some good ... Some bad
Some deep ... Some sad
Some books don't relate to their covers whatsoever
Some consist of a simplistic cover
Yet relay a deeper story
Others have an immaculate cover
But with no substance inside ... Blank pages
And yes everybody can write a book
But not every book is a Best Seller

Being women

By the side of bed,
Lies the piles of my books.
While each one was waiting for thier turn,
To read them in time was main concern.

Days went gradually,
And pages of books turned slowly.
i made them my best friend,
Since i see my future in them.

There comes a day,
When i read all books.
To write exam in upcoming week,
Negative result made me bleak.

Somehow i gathered hope,
And consoled my soul.
I started reading it once again,
Just to lift myself from deep pain.

Pain of being female,
surviving in patriarchal society.
The only way to get through is education,
Which is need of every women for social salvation.

Will you fall in love
With the contents
Of my pages

I'm barely at home
There's my wooden furniture
These my plates of chrome
A fridge full of nourishment
My marble dome
But I'm barely at home

I've barely a hearth
This a room of my choosing
That there my land on earth
My book shelf for musing
Amenities for mirth
But barely a hearth

This pen and paper
My future
Do they co-exist?
I live pouring my heart out
Who cares though
People question
Why I do what I do
Why should it matter to them?
It's my life
I'm not harming you
Actually if anything
I'm causing myself
To be vulnerable
All out in the open
Right there for anyone
Plain as day
Just like the words here
The only thing you won't know
Is the exact meaning
I'll keep those locked away
Forever hidden
Everything else is an open book
Go ahead and read
Read what I've longed to share
Try to decipher it
Like I've had to do
Many a time before
Until then here I am
On the shelf
Waiting to be opened