Where's my freedom?

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

I Fly Like a Leaf

I fly like a leaf In the dusk of barren autumn Detached and unmatched From the greens of valleys And at the hilltop I was falling down Where the air sings me a song And my clashings with words Claps in a way Like strings of guitar strummed Or the air finding it's way out of flute Illuminating out melodious tone And with every beat of drum Dead Heart rejoiced. I was still flying above the ground And Waving my tail, To thrust myself up and To keep myself in illusion That ground is far below And I am on seventh sky Waving through rainbow Hiding in silhouette of clouds. Suddenly, The breeze left me, Alone, above and high. The gravity started kissing the dead me And with its affection I was soon on ground I was weeping in pain While the layers of soil covered my wounds And I was buried and killed by gravity Looking through new palace of earth I wasn't the only whore of gravity There were thousands like me Buried deep and dead With desires to escape ...

Could we make a Last call?

Could we make a last call And talk for hours and recall All the moments we decorated with joy And that night where a girl fall for a boy... I know this won't work anymore But what my heart Cries is you I have waited for you soo long Unaware of all expectations that went wrong A last call is all I wish To tell you how were my days When you were with me And to tell you how are my days When you are away I wish to tell you About the barren nights That you garnished with florals And those nights that went Sobbing into the dark rooms which scares me the most I wish to call you back to the world, That we both decorated with joyful moments To the world, where you felt safe from the people And the world, where I was happy.... Since that won't work All my wishes vanished with the last call and the day you told that "This won't go anymore"...... ~Praful Maheshwari

The girl i met on train

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...

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