Hidden Curators

According to Hindu mythology, If you commit any kind of crime/abusing/discrimination you will be directed to hell after death.  Hell : A mystical place where your soul will be tortured based on your sins. Torture punishment is different for various sins like they will keep you starving if you denied food to somebody or they will let you born with disabilities if you harm anyone physically. There they give special services like frying in oil or body massage with intense pain.  Well the point is I don't believe in any of these psychic theories. This is the religion(which I've observed) which doesn't give male and female equal status. Men are always shown dominating in front of female. For instance, it is mentioned in garudpuraan they female must worship her husband and always listen to his decision, she'll fall asleep after her husband and will wake before him. And if women disrespects her husband she'll go to hell. My question for the society is "if the female i

Where's my freedom? Is it caged or tangled in chains! or it is suppressed between the restrictions that they keep imposing on me. Then they ask me necessity of it; other's said that's their concern, but a concern isn't meant to chop the wings of an eagle, it's about giving a thrust to their flight of heights. They are themselves caged between the  chaos of the melodrama of society. They breath for themselves but breeds for the society, they opt the brain, steered by society, and these hands hold the fetters of my freedom binding anxiety. Here's is my freedom down their hands, getting older and older, shattering its age with rusted fetters. But they forgot, every chain will once break, every feather will regrow, every bird will fly anew, to live this freedom, to live this era, to live this life. ~ Praful Maheshwari

Wishes!! Do they die or they remain immortal Like the salinity of sea water Which drinks the normality of rivers. Or they lasts like memories that tends to reborn. I tried to tempt them and leave them alone After hundreds of tries and loser's groan I still wish to fulfill them But for whom!! While she was my only gem. The wish to sit over valley down the galaxies puzzled, tangled and alone in the darkness And then to wake in her arms at early dawn Where darkness meets the daylight and love brawn To create our little world, far from temptations And to dive into each other's imaginations The galaxy of my dreams shattered like mirror All its remains, sharp and piercing aiming terror That's all my pool of wishes losing their death rattle That's all my words, flowed for you Without you my every desire is colourless Or they are the pain expressing "Wishes are immortal

Future with my eyes would look like salt in tea Everything would be destroyed up From the flora to the fauna From draught city to drowning island And from bizzare garbage hill to clogged drainages We are just preparing death for us Soon the blue sky will be covered by black of smoke And the pretty faces will hide themselves under the masks Oxygen cylinder price will hike up And diesel will no longer last The fossils would be extinct for next generation Their childhood will no longer exists in parks Then there is technology, a sweet poison Like sugar to diabetes and drug to druggist. The farmers woulf cry out loud Due to crop failure Humans will agonize due to water scarcity. ~Praful Maheshwari

The dark days begun Eliminating glorious shine The nation is now divided  In the mosque and shrine. Saffron moved away Fighting with green Where White in tricolour Scrounging for peace. Motto as peace Religions holds sword Where Peace is just a WORD And Religious monks are real rapist I hate this Nation Who we call a secular The human race is biased Where religion is aiming for Dictator. My Tricolor is fading Into its dark....... ~Praful Maheshwari

She wasn't the only pretty girl I had ever seen. And no doubt she was too pretty than others. Her dark eyes loaded with purple shades drowning into greens. While small nose with big tip ends around her big cheeks creating dimple when she smiles. All around her, red glossy perfect lips she wore on face turning down. Her dense hair were curly a bit, pleated down in a pony tail binded by round pearls in an elastic. The peacocks feather shaped earrings curated with metal painted bronze and beneath it connected eight pearls, smaller than that of hair ribbon she tied. The earring hanging down her ears gleamed her beauty letting the taste of moonlight fail. The curls escaping from her forehead, hiding imperfections of her face. Down her face over neck she wore a garland of black beads woven down in thread to which a pink butterfly is attached symbolises her beauty. Like all girls pink seems her favorite too. The top she wears was alluring and around the arms of which pearls are stitched