Our lives are limited within boundaries
Every instant, every passing second.
We are living within the four walled box,
Some call it an apartment.
Of the people, for the people, by the people
We should be breathing freedom every moment.
Are we really free?
A difficult question.
Maybe we are, maybe not! !
The Englishmen left our country,
Gifting us our boxed democracy.
Each of us has been assigned a box called "life"
We should live and play within those four walls.
Speak when you are spoken to.
Smile and cry when you are asked to.
If your heart rules over your head,
You are done.
Men who rob a woman's dignity,
They are all running free.
India sees the circus.
Victim she is, and so should she learn
To be a deaf and dumb tree.
And if god wants her to be just a little girl,
Life will be a box of lava for her,
Waiting to melt her or to burn her.
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Comments about this poem (Boxed by Barisan Chatterjee )
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