Brittle Bones

She was excessively cute
A doll of two
More cute than barbie
Her tilted eyes
Pierced my heart
Her dis balanced smile
Shook my nerves
She laughed in stammer
That made me terrible
I couldn’t resist touching her
With my blessings
And I did
What followed
Broke my heart into pieces
She cried and cried so bad
As if in extreme pain
Seemed like the pain
Her mother would have faced
On her birth
I was lost
Didn’t know what happened
Her mother came running
Tears into her eyes
She was just looking at her
And crying with her
Same sound same pain
Please don’t touch her
Please don’t touch her
Her mother shouted madly
Please don’t touch her
In my excitement of her cuteness
I missed the little paper notice on her little frock
It said
“Please don’t touch her
Her bones are brittle”
I felt as if the bone of my life
Had cracked
I didn’t know
How to cry on this
I was fractured within
Will my Lord!
Ever forgive me for this sin

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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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