The Broken Childhood

For the tears entrenched deep in eye

The pain was endured only by thee

For nights spent without sleep in the eye

The cries were heard only by Almighty

For the days spent without smile on face

The glum was felt by tranquil tree

For the evenings bereft of joy and charm

The setting sun sensed the lack of calm

For the lingering fear soliciting a ray of beam

Equanimity seemed like a distant dream

The wounds afflicted deep in the heart

Still await a soothe, if not complete reboot

All that lost as a child cannot be revised

But keeping the inner child alive,

in every walk of life is all that we long for

Aditi Sharma

Jammu

My Inner Self

When the noise cracks,

and breath steadies like a blade,

My hidden,reticent inner self

walks out of the script,they wrote for me,long long ago.

No flags

No sacred rage.

No obedient beliefs.

I tear off certainty---

it reeks of fear.

What they called truth

was inheritance,

not insight.

I strip it down.

Sentence by sentence.

Scar by scar.

Prejudice---

a trained reflex---

died without applause.

The walls I guarded

collapse inward.

They were caves

painted as horizons.

I refuse the Old armour.

Refuse the borrowed voice.

Refuse the comfort of belonging

at the cost of seeing.

I stand exposed---

not fragile,

but ungoverned.

No master.

No inherited enemy.

No narrow throne.

Only a raw open ground

where I choose

what I become.

Yousuf Nairang

Tawi Vihar Sidhra

Jammu