Draping the pink saree
She looked into the mirror
Among the silk moulds of pink
She felt quite imperceptible

She chose a red saree first
Then mother said
‘It’s too flashy, let’s
Go for a pink one’

That night she drew a troop of girls
Dancing under moonlit sky
All in bright coloured robes

The red and orange hues
Shimmering on their dark faces
Their smiles contending moonshine

Every night I kill my dreams
Strangle all aspirations
Convince my heart that
I do not deserve them
Prepare to pick worldly ways

Every morning I wake up
To see saplings rising
From floundered dreams
Sprigs flourishing
From flogged hopes
Beaming and eager to bloom

Moments of silence flow
Into hours, days, months, and years

Sometimes I am muted involuntarily
Sometimes my words are

Transformed into tranquility willingly
Sometimes my yearning to shout out

Dies on a deaf heart
Sometimes I am not sure

Whether I deserve to talk
Most of times my words form

Wings and fly away to distant lands
And yet

No one ever recognizes my silence
None persuades for my words