Why...

Thousand questions and zero answers, i ask, why is this so?
Is this how a Kamla, Rama, Mohana, Radha lead their lives?
So what if my anatomy differs from you? Am I not free to be sad?
Why should I forsake my right to sorrow and tears? Now that I am bound, do I cease to exist?
Do I not care for each cell on your hair? Do I not wipe those little nicks while you sleep?
Why, then, is the disparity between the care for me and Shyama?

Why, does every word I utter mean something else, entirely?
Why does every action demand a detailed explanation?
Why should I curb my lust and live like a saint? Am I not free to free myself?
Why should I talk about saints, when all I want is to cuddle?

What happens to the whimpers that surge out, why should I curb and turn them into smiles?
Do my joys matter to anyone? Who cares if I smile 'coz I am happy or to feed your ego?
Why, I ask, should I go on like this?
Why...

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