Dancer Alokananda Roy's perseverance to train prisoners in dance forms and make them perform on stage. I am Bihanga, Spreading my wings, To reach the limitless sky, My wings undulate like waves, In rhythmic pace, I fly and fly, Freedom I cherish, My core sings, The joy of love, Finding happiness, Breathing the fragrance of being alive. Suddenly I realise, The four walls of concrete imprison me, A moment of madness, The knife slitted a throat, Fourteen long years in a cubical cell, Rotting in bug infested bed, Smelling filth in murky scum, Deliberating and deliberating, Had I died! Had I died! Then Bihanga happened! I danced and danced, Blemishes begin to fade, Pain I try to bear, Anger subsides, The applause makes me believe, I belong, I belong, No need to hide, Tears courage, 'Live your dream. You are Bihanga. Ahead you surge, In search of that strength, which will catapult you, into the star fill
I am in for for every other thing except for the holding of hands... the thrill of flying alone is gone the moment the other hand comes in the scenario...my personal point of view, otherwise very nice feelings are depicted in this poem..very close to my heart..
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