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twisha ray

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Amid the towering mountains, Maya, a young artist, had always dreamt of sharing her paintings with the world. But fear of rejection kept her work hidden. One day, a stranger stumbled upon her secluded studio. Captivated by her art, they encouraged her to showcase it. Reluctantly, Maya agreed and her work soon caught the attention of a renowned gallery. As her paintings touched the hearts of many, Maya realized that fear had caged her dreams. By stepping into the unknown, she found her true path, embracing the freedom of expression. ©twisha ray Maya the inspiring journey #trnojo90 #inspirational #Life_experience

Amid the towering mountains, Maya, a young artist, had always dreamt of sharing her paintings with the world. But fear of rejection kept her work hidden. One day, a stranger stumbled upon her secluded studio. Captivated by her art, they encouraged her to showcase it. Reluctantly, Maya agreed and her work soon caught the attention of a renowned gallery. As her paintings touched the hearts of many, Maya realized that fear had caged her dreams. By stepping into the unknown, she found her true path, embracing the freedom of expression. ©twisha ray Maya the inspiring journey #trnojo90 #inspirational #Life_experience

twisha ray

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White How long will Indian girls suffer in silence? Their voices suppressed, their dreams dismissed. Their bodies bound by societal chains, Their minds shackled by patriarchal pains. How long will they be treated as less than equal? Their rights denied, their futures unreal. Their laughter muted, their tears unseen, Their stories untold, their souls unclean. How long will they be forced to hide their face? Their identity erased, their autonomy replaced. Their choices dictated, their paths predetermined, Their lives controlled, their spirits diminished. But still they rise, they resist, they fight, For a future where they can shine with all their light. Where they can live without fear or shame, Where they can be themselves, free from blame. They march with candles, a beacon of hope, A symbol of resistance, a refusal to cope. With every step, they claim their space, With every voice, they break the chains of oppression's pace. How long? Not much longer, the time is near, When equality and justice will banish fear. When Indian girls will rise, and their voices will be heard, And their stories will be told, and their dreams will be unfurled. ©twisha ray Wall #trnojo90 #howlongitlasts

White How long will Indian girls suffer in silence? Their voices suppressed, their dreams dismissed. Their bodies bound by societal chains, Their minds shackled by patriarchal pains. How long will they be treated as less than equal? Their rights denied, their futures unreal. Their laughter muted, their tears unseen, Their stories untold, their souls unclean. How long will they be forced to hide their face? Their identity erased, their autonomy replaced. Their choices dictated, their paths predetermined, Their lives controlled, their spirits diminished. But still they rise, they resist, they fight, For a future where they can shine with all their light. Where they can live without fear or shame, Where they can be themselves, free from blame. They march with candles, a beacon of hope, A symbol of resistance, a refusal to cope. With every step, they claim their space, With every voice, they break the chains of oppression's pace. How long? Not much longer, the time is near, When equality and justice will banish fear. When Indian girls will rise, and their voices will be heard, And their stories will be told, and their dreams will be unfurled. ©twisha ray Wall #trnojo90 #howlongitlasts