Written:  Sept 2016 (at the age of 17)

Edited:  6 Apr 2020

Who am I? 

a Body and a Mind? 

A mind which is nothing but waste, 

paralysing emotions and thoughts in haste.

Or am I a Soul?

soul which they call eternal. 

Can I even label it Mine? 

It gives me life, that’s all I know, 

if it leaves, I’ll no longer be alive. 

.

I lost a lot of things, 

but little did I gain. 

So here’s the flashback of time, 

which created the person who I am. 

.

A child of Five, who wanted to become a pilot 

and fly high up in the sky, 

soon she got her glasses 

and her dreams said ‘Goodbye’. 

.

She grew up and turned Eleven

with a Parrot which turned eight, 

she loved him, then lost him, 

Oh Lord! he was her best mate. 

.

She decided she would never love again, 

didn’t know yet, life’s such a funny game. 

.

Soon as she turned Thirteen– a teen. 

there was this boy, with grey eyes and scary face, 

the more evil he turned, the more she chased. 

Ah! I wish she knew that she’d soon be dead, 

he gave her scars, deep in her skin and her head. 

.

She cried and she screamed, but no one ever heard. 

No rescue came when he cut the wings of this lovely bird.

The glimpse of death she saw that day,

made her yearn for Life- a slight hope’s ray.

.

She got up again,

more stronger with more pain. 

The scars which time could never heal, 

is all that she could gain!

.

She was Fifteen now 

I’m proud she came so far, 

now the desire in her eyes- 

To become a rockstar. 

the society and people did not accept, 

even her loved ones pulled her back.

She wanted to live her dreams, 

she wanted to breathe in freedom. 

So she ran and ran, so far to a place 

where no one could ever come. 

.

No money in pocket, 

No shelter to sleep,

No food to eat,

Unknown streets,

People who looked like freaks.

Utterly Alone, alone in the dark night, 

staring at the full-moon she felt alright.

Amazed at her own thoughts, she realised

this weird Solitude gives her peace, she smiled 

and every cell of her cheeks rejoiced,

she felt “Happy” for the first time. 

.

Days passed and she made new friends- 

the mountain, the rivers, the trees, 

such friends for eternity. 

Talking to the winds

and dancing with the animals,

such was her life in Sharrif’s city.

.

Learning music, 

working hard day and night. 

Singing before thousands and more,

being called a “Rockstar” now, did it feel right? 

A tear dropped down from her eye, 

it said, “this is not you”, just fame’s lure, sigh!

.

She came back to her ‘house’, 

which she didn’t call her ‘home’. 

There was no forest, no trees, 

but only big walls all around, 

she didn’t sleep for weeks, 

only unfamiliar noise and sounds.

.

Time passed on, 

now I am Seventeen 

in a city of drugs about which everyone brags,

I feel like a prisoner in this world’s ‘rattrap’,

there are rules, regulations and laws, 

holding me down with their pointy claws. 

There are people around with fake smiles, 

and they say nothing but neverending lies.

.

I have nothing but ‘fears’ in my heart, 

I have nothing but ‘holes’ which tear me apart. 

.

I fear this world or I fear myself ? 

.

And again the same thoughts

in my mind arrive,

I don’t know 

Who am I !

P.S.-  To my 17 yr old self, the young girl full of fantasies and excitement to see the world more, some of the experiences seem to be more exaggerated and huge, that’s how she liked to see her world.

Now I realise, most of these things are just the stories she was telling herself, and not the bare truth. Well, I just chuckle at her now and feel amazed that she actually created a piece of art with all those little experiences and stories ❤️

I hope you like it. Just give her a hug for not understanding herself. Tell her it’s okay. 🌸

And the picture, that’s me at 17, the same time around I wrote the poem 😄

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Taahira Kisna

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