Award-winning Indian Blogger
she smiled with scars dearer to her heart than her own flesh and blood her own kin and kind everything had changed but resolutions, but fate she wore the injustice of time proudly upon her wrists never fretting never regretting everything had changed but pride, but fate the hollows of her eyes housed a million…
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the peasant’s daughter tills the land so her father can rest a bit longer the shoemaker’s girl scissors the fine leather as she steals glances at the butcher’s brother the grocer’s wife cuts her finger as she worries about her son’s tuition the toddler seeks for her mother her mother from beyond the grave prays…
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