Hanna Fatima
I dare to dream,
Of a woman who screams about her unending sufferings.
Her father’s sudden death, her sporadic little breaths.
Her twisted feelings, her scars and healings.
Her hairs entangled, her dreams all shattered.
Her voice so shaky, her future so wavy.
Her responsibilities breaking her, her liabilities trying her.
But I dare to dream,
This agonized woman rises, in spite of opposite surmises.
Bouquets her confidence, believing in God’s providence.
Steps on stereotypes, grips her sword so tight.
Grabs her horse, trots it far.
Then,kicks it off, all ready to fight.
I dare to dream,
Of a school going kid.
Fighting with books and it’s synonyms.
Adept at paints and brushes, adroit at history and places.
A quaint hacker, coder, gamer; a contemporary programmer.
“Wanderlust” his all-time status, literature and poem his only motivators.
This skilled sketch artist
is forced to be a scientist.
But I dare to dream,
his parents shunning their family’s “scientific” tradition.
Contemplating and understanding,
that “science” isn’t the only discipline thriving.
That physics and mathematics is not everybody’s cup of tea.
That theorems and problems aren’t their son’s favorite activities.
Cuddles, kisses, support and a bit of space, is all what he needs,
presently.
I dare to dream
Of a man who has a skin of black but a heart of shining white.
And how he is treated as a despise.
How prejudice still rules our hearts
And our minds are tilted to one side.
How the colour of one’s dermis determines his rights,
Though the colour of our flesh, bones and even tears
Is entirely alike.
But I dare to dream.
That the malleability of a person’s story
Should be self-determined.
Emanating from his lips,
not from his skin’s colouring.
Like, resume “approved” for a person who is white
and utterly “rejected” for an appearance that is non-white,
or a nationality like that of the African tribes.
Above all, I dare to dream,
of a Nation that stands in unity,
keeping aside all its discrepancies.
Where terms like religion, caste, creed, color, race and category
do not exist in the dictionary.
A home where everybody knows
where they belong
stand together and move along.
I long for a Nation absolutely strong.
Thank you so so much!!
Gratitude!
Beautiful Poem… Every line has a life in itself..
Simply beautiful! ?
A mesmerizing, spellbinding poem!
Hats off!