Diya Alwani

In shadows, silent,  women stand. Their work unseen,  yet so grand.  Contributions lost  in the fray,  becoming invisible,  day after day. In a man-dominated world,  they're being ignored,  Their efforts and voices,  often stored.  Struggles buried  deep inside,  why are their stories,  left aside? Yet, in the quiet,  strength is found,  A silent force,  yet so profound.  For every unseen  act of grace,  A shero stands,  in every place. Let us honor,  let us see,  The unseen women,  who strive to be.  In every heart,  their story flows,  Unheard,  yet their spirit grows. For in their silent fight,  they just show,  A strength that makes  their spirit glow.  In every ignored  and unseen deed,  Lies a power  that all must heed.

 In a world of norms,  you will rise,  Break the limits,  reach the skies.  With courage and strength,  leading the way,  Defy conventions,  each and every day. In science and art,  and politics, too,  You shatter limits,  and the dreams pursue.  No more confined  to the old molds,  With bold defiance,  your story unfolds. Fight for your rights,  with voices loud,  Stand together,  fierce and proud. 

 In the era of Bro code, Too bored and old. Let's have a Sis-Code and lighten the load! SiS- CoDe In history,  we've been told,  Women against women,  that's so cold.  But now's the time  to change the story,  To lift each other,  share the glory. No more envy,  no more spite,  Let’s stand together,  hearts alight.  For in lifting  each others high,  We touch the stars,  reach the sky.  In each other’s success,  we will drown,  For we are queens,  wearing the crown.

 From the sacred womb,  life is born,  Sacrifice and love,  a mother's sworn.  Gods and warriors  rise from her grace,  Yet, some seek  to disgrace her place. Why must men  desecrate and shame,  A sacredness  they cannot claim? Is it not in the hands  that care,  Where true respect  should be found there? A woman's worth,  beyond compare,  In her strength, love,  and the life she bears. Her womb divine,  yet so much more,  Respect her,  for all she stands for.

I wonder how  God crafted so high,  A flawless being,  an epitome, no lie. With magic,  she mesmerizes all,  In every phase,  she stands tall. A child’s laughter,  pure and bright,  Teen dreams,  soaring with light.  Adult love,  a beacon so pure, In womanhood,  she endures. Old age,  wisdom shining bright,  Her legacy,  a guiding light. A woman,  perfection’s reflection,  In her,  love finds its connection. In the story of each woman's life, Let our support  be her guide!

life's a journey  spontaneously wild with twists and turns a heavy child it doesn't wait it doesn't pause it doesn't care for any cause no second chance no do-overs no time for tears no time to fool over age won't matter nor you state the time is now it's never late so focus on yourself and dream so high support yourself and reach the sky  with every step  you'll find your way and shine so bright come what may..

In the kitchen of my heart, so deep, lies so many secrets I gatekeep.  And a little corner, set apart,  A space for art, a molding of my heart. This corner of art, forlorn and bare,  Filled with words unspoken there,  Whispers of thoughts, both near and far,  From people and moments, leaving a scar. Unnoticed thoughts, they seemed to hide,  But words resisted, deep inside,  I fought them back, with silent plea,  Yet they lingered on, haunting me. "Don't overthink," I say with might,  To the judging crowd, in fading light,  But those sharp words, like swords they gleam,  Replay in my mind, a haunting dream. A hundred times, they echo and pound,  When solitude's silence has me bound,  This corner of art, the heaviest part,  Recalling things that tear me apart. I claim no grudges, I hold no hate,  But hidden embers, still burn and grate,  A raw, unsorted space within,  Where heavier emotions begin. It poke...

Hustle in the streets, where the streets don't sleep. Man chases coins  with souls buried deep. Running so fast from dawn till night, To fill the plates  and to keep the light. In endless hustle they've lost their way, Forgetting the dawn  when they used to pray. Their feet keeps moving  but the path's unclear, The final destination  is lost in fear. For all the riches he may gain, Can't heal his soul caught in this chain. For in the end the journey's true, It's not in the gold, but in the soul's view. So pause and breathe and feel the grace, reconnect with the one in a holy place.

Why Are they happy  when the son is born, born to oppress and leaving her forlorn? In a world  where freedom's song was sung, She wonders why  her voice feels so unsung. Years of independence,  yet still in chains, Her safety questioned,  her dignity stained. In uniform or clothes deemed too brief, She faces fear,  not finding relief. Age is no shield  from a cruel hand, Was freedom just for men,  she can't understand. Blamed for walking  in the dark of night, While sons roam free,  their wrongs in sight. Not even safe  in the place they’ve grown, She asks,  where can she safely roam? Taught to know a touch  that's pure or vile, Yet who teaches the son  to walk a better mile? Why must she learn  to survive and fear, While he escapes  without ever shedding a tear? Twelve years or more the story remained same, Justice was denied  under the government insane!

 The divine light, That shines so bright, Wanted to be loved, And created his beloved. His beloved was the man, Into the realm, he ran, Unknowing of the glow,  He carried in his own. The spirit he carried inside, Was the part of the supreme insight. Embodying the light of the true,      He never knew, even out of the blue. Some able to realize, And some not. That being part of the divine, They tied a knot. No matter how far, But he will be a part. From the divine's power, One can never grow apart.

 What is Success?  Success is something that we all crave for, at some moments of our lives. Craving an achievement in a particular field is what success mean to us. While picturizing success, all we can see is the final destination where we want to reach at the end and not the process which we have to follow.  Giving success, the limelight we may realize that success is not a single step process rather a gradient of all small steps. It can be observed as a gradient of colors blended into each other with no perfect boundaries. Same as in the case of success, we may move on to the different levels of a particular field and yet not realize how far we've came on our success gradient. By imagining success as a spectrum of color, we realize that, each new effort enhances the intensity of the color by small percentage. As we add up our efforts, we move to the more intense colors of our success gradient and thus making us shine brightly on our path. We are always fascinated with...

  Why do you cherish the dead ones so much? He asked! They live forever in between my books… I replied adding… Fresh rose, Cherished for it's beauty; Dead rose, Is beyond the beauty. Fresh rose, Smells so sweet; Dead rose, Smells of  memories. Fresh rose, Gives the feel of softness; Dead rose, Gives the feel of the past. Fresh one, Bloom for days; Dead one, It forever stays. Fresh one, Remains with the rest; But a dead one, Is like a secret close to the chest. To which he added, Fresh rose, Has petals so smooth, And with a gentle touch They soothe. Dead rose, Crinkled and dry But holds the whispers Of that last goodbye. And then left….