This question haunts my mind..

THIS QUESTION HAUNTS MY MIND WILL WE SURVIVE THIS NIGHT?.................. The sleep

Life as such tends to throw a lot many questions at one. Being a woman adds quite a few more. We all struggle with our identities, somewhere in the hustle bustle our existence does scream.... after a point it just wimpers. . Whining like a bitch kidded by the street kid. Not that its gloom all the way . Life shines, smiles and sunflowers are duly painted to make a point. On other times one writes........Don't read this if u are perfectly contented with the entire world Frail hands search for food in empty pots. Smouldering coal next to the shriveled body wrapped in a thin flimsy coffin...heating it softly like the breath of a man Waiting for death or life? The only sensation that prevailed was that of waiting...,unending cesspool of waitng. The patience to forbear the agony of waiting till the gods recover from their impotence. She was not old barely 17, And tides of fate slashed across broken glass piercing each footstep.

She had started playing hide and seek with life at a young age. But when are women ever young..?the obscurity of womanhood knocks.. Trickling blood across tender legs.Stale? Eyes robbing each strand of virgin cloth, across each step home, muffled cries subdued roars till they are forgotten. Yes that is womanhood not the glorious tradition of child bearing or the bliss of motherhood, the pleasure of a child suckling, not the innocence and the love and the warmth...but a horrendous abortion of all such emotions. Killing massacring slashing wrists clipping embryonic wings with nail cutters.... Till each child is just as impotent unwilling and unable to fly. To discover to know to attain the grandeur of a flight across the blue skies. A dead bird is better than one alive cause it doesn't threaten....