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Namrata Jain Oct 2020
Ferocious wind, uncommon dimness quivered my being.
Sensing the storm hither and thither, I ran to shield my being.
Every corner I hid, darkness outstretches its ugly sheets.
I pondered, where do I find myself the survival string?

Hopeless and scared, I curled myself and give in.
With heaviness at heart and clutter in mind,
darkness privileged this state of mine.
Clouds of emotions hovered overhead,
Poured their rain of bitterness onto me.
Ridiculed me thunderously, mocked at my feebleness,
Thrusting me more into blackness, they roared and danced jubilantly.

Which world was I fighting? The world inside or outside of me.
Helplessly and sobbingly, I stayed underneath their weight.
Clouds covered the sky, day and night all appeared the same.
I waited for hours and days,
eventually, the ray of hope extended its arm through them.

I hold the grip of light, a gleam lifted me from black to white.
Mighty clouds lost their potential in the bright
and deliberately leave me behind.
I wept and bid adieu to the older being,
merrily hugged the newer born and powerful being.
This poem describes the state of a soul trapped in a state of emotional chaos. Emotions obscure one's intellect and ultimately clarity is lost. Such situations demand patience and hope, no matter how difficult it may seem this situation and darkness will pass and a new day with a new faith would follow.
Namrata Jain Oct 2020
Warm, sheltered frame, tender heart
Little girl delightedly arrive the world
Bright and joyful, safe and secure, she believed
As men bow down and pray to the She lord. 

Her home filled with love and faith
Brilliantly safeguarded her wholeness
Curiously pondered on the world outside the home
Would be bright and joyful, safe and secure
As men bow down and pray to the She lord. 

Stepped outside her blessed shield
Got entangled in the scary ropes
The beautiful world suddenly played a cruel role
Whenever she ran, many watched her go
Many minds, eyes, strength shackled her soul
Once the safe and the secure world
Became the unguarded, unheard, and unsaid hall
Still, men bow down and pray to the She Lord. 

Many touched her and go
Play with her extant  and throw
Bruised heart, wounded skin
She kept herself dragging, seeking her home
They failed to feel love, passion, and peace
Courage and devotion dwelling within
Still, men bow down and pray to the She Lord. 

Men worship Lord Durga with the feel
but don’t succeed to see her essence in every being
Daughter, mother, wife, friend, colleague
Every girl carries Durga in their will
And men bow down and pray the idol She.
In India we observe Navratri for nine days where we pray and worship Lord Durga considered to be the Goddess of love and courage.Here, the irony is people bow before the idols but fail to acknowledge the presence of Durga that resides in every girl and subject her to embarrassment and fear.

— The End —