Diya Alwani

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.

  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….

In spring's tender embrace, a maiden fair, Her laughter blooms, love beyond compare. Adorned in petals, dancing through the hours, Nature swoons as she decks the bowers. Summer strides, a bold and ardent knight, His gaze aflame, a passionate delight. Sun-kissed encounters, a fervent, sweet chance, A blazing love, an intoxicating dance. Autumn arrives, a wise and golden sage, Whispering tales from life's seasoned page. A painter skilled, crafting hues so keen, A canvas of warmth in gold and green. Lastly, winter weaves a cloak of snow, A gentle hush, love continues to grow. In her icy arms, a peaceful sleep, As seasons intertwine, their stories seep. These seasons, lovers in the grand design, Each one a chapter in a tale divine.

Be like a rainbow in the sky so high, When sorrow surrounds, let your spirit fly. In the midst of rain and tears that fall, Hold onto hope, it'll conquer all. Though clouds may gather, dark and gray, Remember, the sun will pave the way. With its golden rays, it will mend, The broken hearts, love it will send. So, when you're sad and want to cry, Just wait a while, don't say goodbye. For after the rain, in the bluest skies, A rainbow of happiness, in your heart, lies. "This poem is a reflection of the innocent wisdom of my 9-year-old sister, Heral Alwani. I am thrilled to have successfully transformed her thoughts and inspiration into this piece of poetry."

 In a world of grown-up strife and stress, Let's embrace the child, oh, what a mess! Forget the worries, success and failures, Reignite the spirit of youthful adventures. In those long showers, let's sing with glee, Concerts for one, and the audience is me. Soap bubbles in the bath, floating high, Childish laughter reaches the sky. Beware the drain, it could swallow us whole, Avoiding it was the ultimate goal. Clipping our mouths with hairpins, oh dear, For no reason at all, isn't that clear? The moon, oh, it's made of cheese, they say, Believing it, we dreamt the night away. Staring to make things move with our will, Imagination running wild, never standing still. Poking holes in erasers, what a peculiar call, Why we did it, we can't explain at all. "Mom," we'd say to our teacher in surprise, Childhood antics, oh, what a prize! Wrapped in curtains, we'd pretend to be, Superheroes, pirates, or monkeys up a tree. Chips packets burst, noise loud and

In a tough world, a man's story is told, With heavy expectations, a burden to hold.  Not just by money, their worth shouldn't be sold,  They're more than what traditions often unfold Men also have battles, they hide them away, Always being strong, their feelings they don't display. Crying seems like weakness, in life's tough array, But beneath their strong exterior, emotions might play. To be a father, brother, and husband strong,  In their hearts, they know where they belong.  For respect and love, they quietly stand,  In the struggle to prove, they're a caring hand. In a world of silent battles fought,  Where tears are hidden, lessons taught. Men strive for love, for family's good,  In misunderstood roles, their strength withstood. Invisible battles, they silently wage, A role well-played at every life's stage.  Resilient hearts, enduring and strong, Men prove their love in actions all along.   In a world where women are praised and adored,  Let's