Who ever says,
Giving birth is a wonderful feeling
You are fooled into believing
About it being a beautiful feeling.
It is but only a responsibility,
It is hard work,
It is expectations and emotional distress.
Stop following the herd.
Stop populating the world
That is already over-populated.
Open your eyes India look around,
You are feeding those innocent mouths
By becoming inhuman
With a selfish hope
That they will be your only support
When you are old.
There’s a fear, some constant kind of worry.
Where do I begin?
What do I put my finger on,
To understand what’s bothering me.
To start off with – there’s uncertainty.
Towards where do I guide my life’s story?
All along is but a hazy endless path.
Then there’s overthinking about life.
The purpose and plan –
To make it worthwhile.
But nothing ever seems to be right.
Same old question begins to rise,
What’s the goddamn meaning of life?
An unworldly soul
Has been abruptly discarded
From her roots.
All the while,
She was under the shadow
Of her protectors.
Now, she is all by herself.
Lost and abandoned.
She reaches out for her roots
To seek support.
Alas, they seem to have forgotten her.