One fine day, while walking towards my home, I felt as if someone is crying. I walked towards the meek sound. I saw a girl with long shiny hair and with beautiful big eyes filled with tears. Tears that might have burst out without her permission. I sat beside her without uttering a word. She kept crying for some more time. Till then, I waited patiently. Who are you? She asked while wiping her tears. Why are you sitting next to me? Am I visible to you? She asked. Of course, you are visible to me, dear, I replied. She was not ready to believe my words. She said, for everyone, I am invisible. Then why do you even care? She continued to pour her heart out. I kept listening. She hugged me without saying goodbye. Nevertheless, she gave me a lesson that it’s enough to gain strength to move on if we have someone to listen to us, even if the problem remains as such.
Once there was a girl, a girl with shiny black hair A girl with sparkling blue eyes, yet she was visible to none Invisible to her parents, invisible to her teachers Invisible to her neighbors, invisible to her classmates Friends, people she knew, the list is endless to name a few Invisibility was her reality, reality bitter to taste She was sad. So, one day, she questioned herself Why am I invisible to others? Is there something wrong with me? Is it the way I walk, the way I talk? What wrong have I done? I am never mean to anyone Nor have I ever hurt anyone I respect children and elders too Yet Why am I invisible to many of them? I have a pair of eyes, nose, ears, hands, legs, and a mouth As for everybody to fit in the norm Yet Why am I an invisible misfit? I am there or not I live or die; it doesn’t matter because I am invisible to all Yes, I realize I don’t have a voice I am seen as a trash Do we remember the trash? No- who cares! Its already thrown And yet again, I go back to being invisible I neither oppose nor do I shout Am I a foot mat to wipe your flaws? She was confused. She thought to herself Why don’t I ever reciprocate? Why don’t I shout? Why don’t I stand for myself? She asked herself. Again, and again. She found the answer in a subtle desire Desire to feel wanted, desire to be alive That she matters, people do care She probed deep and found Maybe I get a moment of being recognized Moment of being visible Only when I am a trash Only when I am a mat Only when classmates bully Only when others mock Only then I feel my existence, that I am also living Breathing, breathing like all others around Moment of visibility, at a prize of my dignity, is a heavy price to pay She still is entangled in a web of questions I wonder why being visible is so important for me? Is it human need to survive in this society? Or, is it to degrade those without a voice? Many questions are there which she needs to face To make her name, out of crisis within To be a voice, voice for unheard and invisible She must face the tough questions about life Life as beautiful as a rose with thorns
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