White I must tell you, Now I write at 2 AM. I don't shake at night, I don't erase my poem. My hair are short And my eyes are still brown. Nobody ever looked at them They only checked if I had a Crown. I learned so much last year And I'm working on my book. I collect everything in my diary, Every piece of mine that you took. You don't read them anymore, The poetries I still write for you. So listen, I must tell you, I'm not the girl you once knew. ©Anagha Ukaskar

Anagha Ukaskar

White I travel back to the 80s And I see a little boy. He is working in a field, There isn't any toy. I see a bright figure, Small but shining tall. I see someone next to him, then it makes sense and all. I realise it's his uncle Normalising many things for him, Like shouting at his wife And holding her at whim. They don't have a daughter So I guess he didn't learn, How to love a woman And how to blow on her burn. Later, at worst, he adds salt, Thinking it would be better. But this is not a recipe So his thoughts don't matter. He forgot to love And he will never understand. He will always feel inferior Whenever a woman takes a stand. And though he'll be great, He will not be satisfied. He will hurt many... His actions, cruel, yet glorified. And yet he will be called A Man. The false definitions will not change. She'll always be stepped over, They will always call her strange. ©Anagha Ukaskar

Anagha Ukaskar

White We have similar hobbies So I thought you'd understand. If I can't write anymore, Tell me what can I do and... Will I still dream About skies and the sea? Will I work on myself And the person I want to be? Will I be a happy kid Like I pretend I am now? Will I manage my success If I do succeed somehow? Will I be patient and poised To talk to people without fear? If I ever need someone, Will they still be near? The world I didn't care about When I had my pen and diary, What happens when I am not me? Do I have to worry? ©Anagha Ukaskar

Anagha Ukaskar

White Mango Apple Banana Grapes Watermelon ©....Anym

....Anym

White I must tell you, Now I write at 2 AM. I don't shake at night, I don't erase my poem. My hair are short And my eyes are still brown. Nobody ever looked at them They only checked if I had a Crown. I learned so much last year And I'm working on my book. I collect everything in my diary, Every piece of mine that you took. You don't read them anymore, The poetries I still write for you. So listen, I must tell you, I'm not the girl you once knew. ©Anagha Ukaskar

Anagha Ukaskar

White I travel back to the 80s And I see a little boy. He is working in a field, There isn't any toy. I see a bright figure, Small but shining tall. I see someone next to him, then it makes sense and all. I realise it's his uncle Normalising many things for him, Like shouting at his wife And holding her at whim. They don't have a daughter So I guess he didn't learn, How to love a woman And how to blow on her burn. Later, at worst, he adds salt, Thinking it would be better. But this is not a recipe So his thoughts don't matter. He forgot to love And he will never understand. He will always feel inferior Whenever a woman takes a stand. And though he'll be great, He will not be satisfied. He will hurt many... His actions, cruel, yet glorified. And yet he will be called A Man. The false definitions will not change. She'll always be stepped over, They will always call her strange. ©Anagha Ukaskar

Anagha Ukaskar

White We have similar hobbies So I thought you'd understand. If I can't write anymore, Tell me what can I do and... Will I still dream About skies and the sea? Will I work on myself And the person I want to be? Will I be a happy kid Like I pretend I am now? Will I manage my success If I do succeed somehow? Will I be patient and poised To talk to people without fear? If I ever need someone, Will they still be near? The world I didn't care about When I had my pen and diary, What happens when I am not me? Do I have to worry? ©Anagha Ukaskar

Anagha Ukaskar

White Mango Apple Banana Grapes Watermelon ©....Anym

....Anym