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My name is Umrao Jaan. I am a Tawaif, an Indian Classical Dancer, Singer
My other names are Saheb e jaan, Nargis, and Anarkali, many names I have
I am trained in fine arts like classical dancing and music by ustaads or teachers

My work was to entertain kings, noblemen and wealthy patrons who visited my court.
My court is known as a kotha in the Hindi Language, my residence and workplace
Here I reside with my family, my sisters in trade and our fellow musicians.
We are financially well off, but what we yearn for, love and respect, we do not get

Trained as artists who entertain kings and nobility, we are sadly now disrespected
Our services now are desired not for their true value but to satisfy desires.
The desires of wealthy men who treat us as concubines but will never respect us
Sadly, the nobility and value of our profession have been eroded completely now.

This erosion started with the British Raj when they colonised India
They never valued our services and degraded us to the level of vaishyas(prostitutes)
The evil that men do lives on after them, and the good they do is buried in their bones
Even after India gained independence, the cultural values of the Tawaifs were never restored
It died with the end of the reign of Akbar, Shah Jahan and other Mughal kings
In this poem, I have attempted to explain what a Tawaif was and to what status Indian Society has degraded them.
A sad state of affairs indeed
Who am I in this vast, open earth of different species
A species of the human race created from a clot of blood in the womb of a woman
One of a billion or more humans all created in the same way
But why was I created, what is my purpose on this vast earth
For surely nothing was created without purpose, otherwise why create at all?

So I was born in a hospital somewhere and there was happiness all around upon my arrival.
A new addition to the family someone to carry on the family name
I came into this world crying and all around me people were laughing with joy
If my arrival brought happiness why was I crying so much?
And so begs the question who am I and why was I created?

Like all humans, I was given a name to identify and make me unique.
Different cultures have different ways and different ceremonies to name their newborns.
But how come of all the species on this earth only human beings have names
Why don't animals, birds, insects who also produce offspring don't give names

So why was I created and what is my purpose on this earth?
I am still trying to find that out, just like a billion other human beings
After all, it cannot be that we were just put here on this earth
Everything that is here was put here for a purpose, a reason

I am sitting at a roadside café relishing the taste of freshly brewed coffee.
The waiter who brings me my coffee and croissants knows why he is there
To ensure the food and drinks I have ordered get to me on time
The right things are delivered to the right people at the right time

I also know why I am at the roadside café sipping hot coffee and enjoying hot delicious croissants.
I am searching for the answer to my lifelong question
Who am I?
I gaze deeply into my coffee, hoping to find the answer there
But all I see is a hot brown liquid with a fresh sensory smell
This Poem Is About The Question Man Has Been Having For Time immemorial But Upto Now No Satifactory Answer Has He Found.
Who am I in this world we call Earth, and our home
By species, I am a human being, supposedly master of all other species
We were made to look after and care for this planet called Earth

Instead we have ravaged, plundered and ***** the planet earth
In our blind quest to obtain control and dominance over all

Are humans masters or slaves of their egos, their pride
Humans believe they are invincible, they can do anything, to anyone
Man's greatest enemy is man himself, a beast beyond all beasts
So, who am I, man, the master or man, the beast of all beasts

I am two sides of the same coin, the master and the beast
There is a struggle inside of me for dominance, for control
Sometimes the master wins, other times the beast wins


I fear, I fear the beast will gain control and dominance over me
I have seen the power of the beast unleashed, a madness, a rage
A madness, a rage only a beast from hell can possess, it scares me

So, who am I, man, the master or the beast from hell
It's very difficult to know, as I keep changing all the time
Will someone please tell me, please tell me, please tell me
Who am I, Who am I, Who am I
I have written this poem seeing the state of the world currently. Everywhere you see human beings are engaged in a power struggle to dominate and control the world.
Life doesn't come with a map.
It throws curveballs, storms, and silence.
You take the hits. You get back up.
You wear the scars like armor—not shame.

Not everyone's going to clap when you rise—
Good. You're not here for their applause.
You're here to own your story,
Not beg for a role in someone else's.

The world will try to crush you.
Lie to you.
Tell you you're too much, or not enough.
Laugh when you fall.
Doubt when you speak.
But guess what?

They don’t get to define you.
You are forged, not broken.
Bent, not beaten.
Every bruise is a blueprint.
Every fall, fuel.

So break the rules they wrote for you.
Set fire to the limits.
And walk—no, run—into the life
you were told you couldn't have.
Shadows of memories drift softly,
Each step holds a silent cry.
The past murmurs in every corner—
Deep inside, scars whisper.

Invisible wounds carved by time,
A hidden ache that speaks in silence.
Every tick of the silent clock
Echoes the loss of tender moments,
Time stealing pieces of my heart.

Every beat echoes a memory,
A soft reminder of love unreturned—
A rhythm of tears and unspoken words.
In the dark, my soul cries out,
Desperate whispers fill the void,
A plea for comfort in endless night.

My eyes become a mirror of loss,
Reflecting a world of muted sorrow,
Where every tear speaks of broken dreams.
I wander through darkened streets,
Carrying a heart heavy with grief,
Searching for solace in the quiet gloom.

Every laugh is now a memory,
A ghost of joy that slipped away,
Leaving behind a quiet melancholy
They say the stars hold endless light, but I have seen something brighter: your eyes, where constellations dance, and my heart becomes a fighter.

I’ve stumbled countless times before, but never quite like this— not on pavement, not on stone, but into something bliss.

Not just in passing glances, or the hush of stolen sighs, but in the way my pulse ignites each time you wander by.

I never thought that someone like me could ever be truly seen— yet here you stand, my fragile heart held softly in between.

If I could cradle time itself, I’d keep the way you smile— how your lips curl at the edges, and your laughter stays a while.

You're the breath that fills my silence, the hush between each sigh. You're the echo in my laughter, the shimmer in my eye.

Your name is written in the dawn where golden light begins— it lingers in the twilight sky,
In her gaze, I see myself anew—
A flicker of love, eternal and true.
No words are spoken, yet hearts align,
In the silent spark where our souls entwine.

Emerald pools, so deep, so wide,
Hold the echoes of the tears she’s cried.
Joy and sorrow, loss and grace,
All dance together in that sacred place.

With just one look, the world stands still,
Time surrenders to her quiet will.
Her eyes—like lanterns in the night,
Draw me gently toward their light.

A thousand colors, yet none the same,
Each glance a story, each blink a flame.
They speak of dreams both near and far,
Of who we are, and who we were.

They hold the pain she tries to hide,
But also hope she wears with pride.
A mirror clear, where truth is known,
In her gaze, I am not alone.

Not just beauty, but something more—
A doorway to her very core.
A gentle strength, a love unspoken,
In every glance, a promise unbroken.
My world feels hollow, lost in gray,
Where light has long since slipped away.
No sun to warm, no hope in sight—
Just endless rain that dims the night.

I’m drowning in my silent cries,
Each heartbeat echoing my lies.
No one sees the pain I hide—
They miss the part of me that’s died.

Do we cry to heal the soul,
Or just to fill an empty role?
Is it grief we can’t explain,
Or missing one we loved in vain?

Laughter came, but couldn’t stay.
Hugs wiped a tear, then turned away.
This ache won’t leave—I don’t know why.
I beg it just to say goodbye.
Your heart whispers spells into the silence,
soft incantations only my soul understands.
Each beat—a charm that binds me closer,
a melody no wind could ever carry away.

If I could paint the sorcery in your eyes,
even the sky would bow to their light.
They hold galaxies I’ve never known,
yet somehow, they feel like home.

This love—unwritten in the stars,
beyond logic, beyond reach—still finds me.
I try to unweave the dream,
but the threads are stitched into my being.

No spell could erase you now.
You live in the pages of my days,
in every shadow that dances at dusk,
in every dawn that calls your name.

You are not a chapter—I cannot turn this page.
You are the story that rewrote mine.
Sparrow are singing,
My heart is in two pieces.
Roses are dead, violets are dying,
Outside am smiling , inside am crying.
You don't know who is hurt,
You just don't know how it feels Every, memory is not a battle.
He would hide the pain,
behind a broken smile.
My poems are my feelings,
my head is my land.
Don't know what to do,
With this unmanageable hand,
Filled with magical gifts of emotions.
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