Child Within


A little fascinated by the globe,

Plaything, she lost and groped. 

Rummaged through her many toys

Vexed with them, cavalier chides


A little doll under the bed,

Missing hair, eyes and leg.

Looked to her quite dead.

Satiated by the poor thing.


Traded it with her gullible kin.

Sometimes this child lives inside of me.

Loosing God’s precious gifts.

Oblivious of the other beings .


Trivial dreams and perpetual greed.

Pursues things she has never seen.

Thought of putting the child to sleep.

Stealing my life, cutting deep.


Stands outside watching burning streaks.

Cries aloud when pain has peaked.

Wounded soul on a desolate lane.

Out in the world to share the pain.


Nobody listens as it’s not time.

For them to witness their own crime.

Now she has no roof on top.

Kills her friend, takes her shop.


Hence gets punished by the law.

Confined in a cell, to find her flaw.

So I put the child to sleep.

Before she’s forsaken by the God in me,

To the perils and the deuce for keep.

Shraddha Srivastava studied commerce from Delhi University and also creative writing through the British Council. Currently, she is doing her Masters in English.  


The Kashmir Walla needs you, urgently. Only you can do it.

We have always come to you for help: The Kashmir Walla is battling at multiple fronts — and if you don’t act now, it would be too late. 2020 was a year like no other and we walked into it already battered. The freedom of the press in Kashmir was touching new lows as the entire population was gradually coming out of one of the longest communication blackouts in the world.

We are not a big organization. A few thousand rupees from each one of you would make a huge difference.

The Kashmir Walla plans to extensively and honestly cover — break, report, and analyze — everything that matters to you. You can help us.

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