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Saga Of Being A Girl

Saga of Being a Girl.

From the ages past,
As guides, guarrdians,
I continued to breath in
Man's world,
With bangles on wrists, and
Bindi on my fore head.
Passing through dim, dark and
Gray days, though in silence,
Saga of life is to be alive still,
An adventure for womanhood,
Change from nine meter cotton pieces,
To jeans and shortsis called courage.
Led my life without parents and liquid fear,
Under the cousins, friends and teachers,
As growth of womanhood spread my desires,
They were over joyed too,
Blaming me for loosing my precious,
But being active partners too.
Their powers and my radient shape mingled,
Emotions flew like birds in the vacant skies,
And fish in the waves,
Responding to our youthful frames,
But I alone was caught in the wirl wind
Of blames.
But it had filled with grace,
I knew a policeman or a teacher too,
Would have been my partners too.
Why should I gloat?
If they were not saints, I was not a sinner,
But found different scales to weigh us all.
Still I play with my computers,
And earn through my skills,
Life is like a prophecy,
That begins and ends with me,
Leaving me lonely under the very
Protective gazes.
Mohan tilgul.

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