Diya Alwani

Born with the cries, In the  beds so small, First breathe to final sighs, He hustles in it all! Different roads, different ways, Man works hard, night and days, To earn his bread, to claim the place And to win money in a daily race. Some wear suits, some carry sacks, Some mend hearts, some fit tracks. One seeks a desk, with papers piled, other toils in fields, under sun wiled! The destination is clear and so bright, Man chases money, day and night. For family's sake or the relatives fake, Some build castles and some earn steak. One thing he forgets, in the journey unclear, The master is waiting at the end so clear. Light at the end of tunnel, so bright, Where all paths will merge, in one pure light. The theme of the poem is the sole idea by Vinay Moryani. He is a keen seeker of spirituality and walks on the path of the same. I have turn his ideas into words and further mending into a complete poem!

 Embrace the beauty, grace, and power,  Of womanhood  in every hour.  A dance of strength  and tender care,  In every heart,  a love to share. With elegance  and fierce might,  She just shines, a beacon of light. In her essence,  beauty lies,  A woman,  So strong and wise. Her spirit, bold,  her heart, so pure,  A force of nature,  So true and sure.  Celebrate her,  night and day,  For in her,  the world finds its way.

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!