Page 32 - XITE Magazine 2021
P. 32

Annual Magazine


        A Lady Who Struggled
        A Lady Who Struggled
        A Lady Who Struggled
                                                                                             Ritika Mahato
                                                                                             Alumna
        All of these years;
        She tried so hard to leave everything behind;
        One day dream that she could be happy,
                                                            Roots need to grow!
                                                            Roots need to grow!
        Without struggling inside.                          Roots need to grow!
        But she still felt bound
        Awaken by her deepest fears;
                                                             We are the roots in the soil,
        she sits silently in the dark,
        Abused by her own insecurities,                      We need to grow,
        tortured with her tears,                             We need to sow,
        you could feel the pain throbbing in this
                                                             What can I say?
        poor woman 's heart.
                                                             Stop throwing stones,

        Can you feel what she has felt?                      For the water is me,
        A raped soul deprived from happiness?
                                                             When there will be stillness,
        Do you see what she has seen?
                                                             I will show you the flowers you have planted.
        A destroyed woman left with dejections?

        No, how could you?                                   Stop escaping from the past,
        Your perception is blurred.                          For there is our land,
        The truth is written all over her body,
                                                             For there is our home,
        Evidence of what she has gone.
                                                             We want to live and do not grieve.
        Each scar has its own meaning,
        Its own pain that lasted so long.                    For there is beauty in this land, the beauty of the tress,
        It tells us- how she was one hack away,              The fragrance of the soil speaks to me.
        From setting herself so bold and strong
                                                             The strength of the fire,
        .
        The day she reached for that                         The trail of the sun,
        A voice inside her, told her to stop and think,      And the life that never goes away.

        “You can do it better.”
                                                             We are the roots of our mother land,
        Deep sighs complimented with ease and hope.
                                                             The power of the land, so godly.
        Her life struggles and sorrows disperse into smoke.
        Shame diminished by                                  So we turn to the land, our mother land.
        one's self pride,                                Turned it for comfort, our refuge at last.
        Her untold story revealed,
                                                             We are the roots in the soil,
        That was once hidden inside.
        She is  a strong woman now,                          We need to grow,
        Capable of the unthinkable, unstoppable you see,     We need to sow

        And I believe that none of you would have imagined,
        That this woman






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