Poems

A spinner of dreams

I want to be remembered
As the spinner of dreams.
Not fancy fairytales
Or webs of untruth

But of dreams which come alive.

And I often imagine myself
Sitting at a charkha
Spinning and singing away.
And beside me I see
A pile of multi-hued dreams
And a horde of happy people

Picking their choice.

I saw dreams as a child
And they always came true
Why force these reality checks on me now?
Let me keep the faith
Let me spin away

Let my dreams come alive yet again.

– Anshu, 6 August 2016
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Featured Photo: Women wearing Muslin | Yale Center for British Art, Paul Mellon Collection/Wikicommons

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