Lets change the angle...
The seeds of society
Are rooted deep within the soil of our perception
From there germinates the fruits of stereotypes
Building bondages around your dreams in its every bite.
With a vision to foresee and growing science and technology
We cover our far sighted vision with a pair of glasses
Which do not render you with a clear vision but instead turns you blind....
It turns you blind to every **** growing in your mind
It turns you blind to all those sufferers who being victims are still criticized
So, why not we being intellectuals
Tilt our head a little and change the angle
And let's see the world with a new sight
A sight that is free of blurred vision
Which no more needs to eat those fruits of stereotypes
A sight that is fairer, unbiased, and no more waters those catastrophic seeds.
Lets change the angle and neither see a women shy and weak
And a man violent and devastating
But lets see both of them as sons and daughters of almighty
Meant for spreading love and affection in the society.
Lets not title them as mummas boy and not too macho mans
But just as humans
With a pair of eyes, a mouth, limbs and a heart which is yet beating within longing for a tight hug.
Lets forget all those concepts of man chauvinism and feminism
Lets change the angle and build up a concept of belongingness and compassion.
Let them not be just bodies carrying privileges of ***** and insecurities of a ******
But just let them be souls
Dwelling in the nature, blooming like flowers, flying like a bird, ready to shower their emotions like a heavy cloud.
Lets not mark the foetus in a mother's womb
Boy or girl, male or female, gay or trans
But just as elements of art
Unveiling their beauty in their every little bit like a star.
Lets not symbolise our men as mountains
And our women as diamonds
Let that mountain shedding his tears in a waterfall
Be as pleasurable to you as it is being covered with snow, cold and numb
Let that raw piece of coal black with soot be as beautiful to you as it is being a shining diamond.
Let's not just build political or religious relations
But lets build relations between hearts pouring down love,between the shimmer in the eyes, between the two smiles,between all of us between the moon and the sun, between the sky and the earth.
Lets not divide these seven colors in pink or blue
But lets mix them up and set them free to paint the vacant sky
Lets not draw the irrational lines of division in a garden where there are flowers and even weeds which blooms in their own way.
Lets not victimise the wings of dreams with the expectation of society.
But lets just tilt our heads a little, change the angle and sow the seeds of compassion in a world where there are no boundaries of religion, caste or gender.
But just human fulfilling the needs of their humanity.

She had a stain over her shirt
But a smile one her face

Like the river flows with her own grace,

We see some rocks in between with no trace.

While addressing the beauty of river,

We often see some rocks in between born with despair.



With overpowering perceptions,

There are minds giving roots to illegitimate saplings

Born with the roots of misconception.

Those misconception says, " empower the women."



But what about those thrown rocks?

Don't they have the right to shed a tear?

Mumma's boy, right? We often hear

Build up like a man, stop crying, don't be a girl,

with all those I'll speaking mouths yelling in his ear.

Deep within his heart stayed all his fear.



We see faces just faces not their hearts

Our father, brother, husbands and friends.

They all seen very hard; isn't

But have we ever peeked down in their hearts longing for love?

He may not be a vulture feeding over flesh but is surely a beautiful dove.

Behind that masculine smile, there are weeping eyes hidden within the veil of betrayal

His tears come from the broken pieces of heart turning pale.



After those days of hardship and work,

When he meets the night and looks behind.

He sees the darkness locking up the light.

Mesmerized with some old memories,

he turns up to be a small child,

lying in his mother's lap unaware that sweet berries often turn wild.



But the rays of reality blurs his vision and tell him

He is a man who cannot cry

His heart is of a demon; rude and dry.

Entangled in the world that mock,

He tries to cope up and remain a strong rock.



Weathering with the time as it pass,

He build up his emotions like a glass.

Which is shiny and transparent but shatters so fast.

He bears all his pain in the blisters existing since his long past.



He is a glitter of a mother's eyes,

A superhero of a daughter's dream.

He is the rock that captures all the dirt,

But lets the river to flow across its edge.

Feminism may be the river that flow, but

Feminism is also the rock that retains and grows,

So, let us show the seeds of compassion and love

And trap those misconceptions in a lock

So that one day, a flower may grow on that weathered rock.

I peeped in the past when I looked at the stars
Because my science teacher told me that the light which you see today as a star had probably left the star million years back and tends to exist no more in the present
I thought if I could have been a part of that past that dawned over my life as a present today

My past may have carried a good lot of stains over me
But beneath the sun rays of passion , I shine bright