Cheerful yet quiet,
silently I cried.
Shallow hands hoping to be filled,
dreams of success in progress to be fulfilled.
Waiting to get documented,
in the records of destiny's most reputed.
Who owns the prize of hard-work,
sold his comfort and payed the price of every work.
Seeking for an identity,
a broken philosophy of family.
Owning the case of partiality,
owing nothing from the majesty.
A lot to achieve,
a lot to relieve.
The pain of solidarity,
the rain of grief and disparity.
Nothing to lose,
nothing to gain.
Strong, sustained,
and capability to handle pain.
I am Rishabh! the loudest silence,
who seems to be quiet but hides a lot within.
a volcano capable to burn anything,
a light that glows everything.