Sunday, 16 August 2015

Freedom

Our restless mind;
Our tired souls;
Our lifeless bodies;
wants to be unbounded
by strings of pain

 Impossible it seems,
 to be independent;
 to be free
 from chains of imperfections

Days marked every year,
by people like us,
the day we got free,
from foreign  rules,
yet we are not free

Experiences of life;
memories sweet or bitter;
views of society;
relations we make;
tie us until death

Freedom is
what we do;
what we speak;
what we wear;
without worrying society

It's not politics;
It's not societal views,
It's not religious virtues;
It's us only us;
who can untie
ourselves from bounds
of ignorance





Farmer’s pride

The farmer stares, At open skies, Hopelessly searching, For fluffy thick clouds. To his dismay, The sky is blue, The sun is out, Shining sha...