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This poem addresses the social evil of Child Labor in my country, India.

~This is for a section of society who are nothing less than warriors, brutally facing all battles with ease.~

Could you bring him back to me? My first wall of protection, Against my mother’s wrath. My first teacher, My philosopher. And the walki..

The mirror would crack, she thought; The image would turn into oblivion, Or worse, the reflection would suffer demise in transition. Seven year..

A short hem line, A deep neck line, Flashing shades, heels and boots, And without knowing what’s inside her heart and soul, She is tagge..

She burnt her shabby hut with her dead father’s freezing corpse inside it, slowly embracing flames. Consumed in the fire and turned into ashes..

S Writing