Flapping their wings, Noiselessly gliding, I see them. Dropping a tinge of colour In a monotone concrete-scape, I see them. Spreading a magic Of smiles around, I see them. Telling of what could come Out of a cocoon, I see them. Knowing they see me, Just like I see them, I see the butterflies.

Why Just One Day for Women?

Fine, birthdays and anniversaries I get. They mark another full year of an event. But how does one mark a woman's never-ending ordeals, passions and sacrifices? By a day?? Isn't it a bit like being unfair to someone through the year and then going and wishing them on their birthday? For oh, how grateful you [...]