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Elegy To A Frozen Parchment

it glistens – a tiny dewdrop

perching on the shriveled leaf

just like the tear trickling down

her kohl-rimmed eye


it’s seeped to the core of her voice

– the winter chill. the words lie scattered, 

abandoned, like a solitary cottage

amidst an expanse of snow-clad wilderness


buried deep into the recesses of her heart

the seeds of love refuse to blossom

desperate for a release from her suffocating cage 

she picks up her pen and fails again


a fierce sigh rises from the gut

a scream gets suffocated again

a pall of gloom envelopes her

the streams are frozen, dead


how many more winters would she have to brave 

before the icebergs of culture and tradition melt away  

before the anguished cry of a woman 

gets a language the world understands

before the blank parchment of her heart 

gets inked in vibrant colors of spring


there is nothing poetic in her elegies though.

Or mine.


What do you think?


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Written by Seema Taneja

Formerly a teacher of English language, she is now a full-time blogger, writer, and poet. A bi-lingual writer, she writes on social justice, gender issues, women and child rights, economics, and political affairs, in English and Hindi. She contributes to several platforms like Women's Web, Momspresso, The Anonymous Writer and her write-ups have also been published in The Times Of India. Her stories have been featured in several anthologies. She has won many awards for her writing, including the prestigious Orange Flower Award for Writing with Social Impact in Hindi.

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