Asylum

She was so cute
But different
So engrossed in herself
She had nothing to do with the world around
How happily she lived
In the dark small cell
Of an asylum
Till one day, she was sentenced to freedom
And forced to live in the asylum outside
Surrounded by crazy, mindless idiots
Cursed she was
Cursed with beauty
Beauty as transparent
As a dazzling glass
As subtle as a soap bubble
She floated weightlessly in the air of freshness
Carrying a brilliance of colours within
Her beauty was not transparent enough
As could pass the thin skin
And touch the souls
At least for a cur
How could she be safe
In the end her innocence
Was carried away
In a flow of virgin blood
She was lucky enough
Not to know
What she was going through
She would get up with the same brilliance
Of million suns on her face
And leave behind the Devils
Moistened with wet shame
Nothing to do with the world around
She still lived happily
In this open and vast asylum
I wish her touch could change
The animals into humans

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About neetuwali

Hi! I am Neetu. Who am I? This question is very difficult to answer. Well! If you insist, let me reveal. I am a human and like every other human I eat, sleep, drink, dance, sing, laugh, smile, cry and so on. Hang on! There is a difference. Unlike most of the human beings, I breathe and when I breathe, I relax. When I am relaxed, I draw. I draw sketches of me in words. I have been orbiting around sun for forty years now. I started this journey on the Valentine day of 1974. I have seen people craving for heaven and I was born in the only heaven on earth (Kashmir). My Grandfather was a spiritual personality and a renowned poet of his time. Though he left me around 35 years ago, I couldn’t let him go. I carry him in my eyes and mind and will do that till the end of my life. I hate words, yet I am full of words. I know words cannot express, yet I express me through words, because they are the only medium I am familiar with. That is why I try to express me as much as possible with as minimum words as possible. When I did Masters in business administration, I never knew, writing will be the only business in my life. More than hobby writing is a necessity for me, because it helps me get the load of thoughts off my head. I don’t remember when it that I wrote my first poem was. But I surely know the time of my last poem. Surely,not before my last breath.

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