The Caged Parrot

By the sides of a busy congested Bazaar,

Sat a vendor with a parrot behind the bars.

A girl of seventeen as beautiful as a star

her disarming laughter had a strange power.

Only she sensed the parrot’s grief in the crowded bazaar,

Her laughter vanished and face grew sour.

 

“Hurry up we don’t have time” commanded his father

A command it was,  no lesser no harder.

She left the parrot in its own sorrow

Because waking her father’s anger was bad luck to borrow.

 

Family of hers was of great honor

The fact had become her greatest sorrow

Her father’s concern was only pride

Rescuing what her great grandfathers had died.

 

Back at home she came to peace

Waves of agony were now at ease.

It was time to sink in the world of fantasy

Thinking of happiness was such a fallacy.

 

The world of fantasy she liked the most,

Where honor of family she could easily roast.

She did everything that was always denied

In the world of fantasy,  there was nothing to hide.

 

Just like each flowing river has got a bend,

journey in the world of fantasy came to a drastic end.

A firm slap it was that ruined it all

Her brother it was,  lean dark and tall.

 

‘Go help mother’ he instantly said

His face was stern and eyes growing red.

Tears is what she had in reply

Speaking up was not worth a try.

 

Day by day he became a beast

His presence in the house now mattered the least.

She left the room silently like a rock

Wiped her tears and tidied her frock.

 

Mother of hers was a beauty beyond praise,

A look that soothing could even humble the bays.

But yet a trait that was hers to blame,

Blindly serving her husband was her sole aim.

 

As her daughter came down

On that lovely face came a frown.

“Of all the dresses you found this frock,

People out there will certainly mock,

Family honour is all I care”.

Commanded the lady with a sudden blare.

 

Girl to herself………

Seventeen winters have come to the past,

The spring of change is yet to cast.

CAGE  it is you all have built,

Being the parrot is not MY GUILT.

 

Adamya Sharma

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