Poetry

An Indian Girl Unbound

I am an Indian girl of countless unbound,

Who unfolds the chronicle till her lark,

She steps out in daylight spark,

 She fears murky mark,

Women folks around me remark.

Why is she feared?

Of sunless eve,

did it torment her and cleave,

I heard her speak and believe,

I am in several you and me,

But nobody can see,

The pain I go through is stay-at-home,

It’s a jargon of my custom tome,

I am the screen mask of an unbound Indian gill,

Who walks miles for a pot of water distill,

I am those wither legs,

Who march red sunlit dregs,

I am that girl who has won a priceless medal,

stood like a gal infirm soon straddle .

The senile white water was waving horny gull,

and the trees were moving like my hull,

The surface of earth radiated a spot,

And told me to lay in her cot,

I heard the melody maestro,

And saw the plight of an Indian retro.

Today I feel I am uncork from the craving tease,

As there is no one to cease,

I can walk in darkness with my blind eyes in peace.

 

                                                                                   ~Pillai Vidya Gopal

                                                                                    Bhavans Public School, Doha, Qatar

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