This post is FREE  until 30th June 2026 . निकला जब-जब मैं कर्मपथ पर अपनों ने मुझे ललकारा है। कहते घमंड किस बात की तुम में? जो तू इतना इठलाता है। रोहित हर्षा द्वारा कवर फ़ोटो व्यंग देख हृदय खुश मेरा अभी खुद को और बनाना है। निकला जब-जब मैं कर्मपथ पर अपनों ने मुझे ललकारा है। प्रतिदिन पूछूँ प्रश्न मैं खुद से अब नया कौन सा बहाना है? एक क्षणिक प्रयास मात्र से हटता न कोई अँधियारा है। है विकल्प अब युद्ध के भाँति करना या फिर मर जाना है। निकला जब-जब मैं कर्मपथ पर अपनों ने मुझे ललकारा है। श्रेय यह कविता अभिनव यादव द्वारा लिखी गई है, समीक्षा एड्लिन डिसूजा  द्वारा की गई है, संपादन निधि पांडे  द्वारा किया गया है, फोटो रोहित हर्षा  द्वारा लिया गया है।

This post is FREE  until 30th June 2026 . Credits This work was created by R. S. Chintalapati , reviewed by Nikhila Kotni , edited by Manognya Bethapudi  & illustrated by Ekta Pathak Mishra .

A woman steps out of the house and slips her feet into her sandals. Distant prayers can be heard vaguely from places of worship. It is still early dawn with a bluish glow all around. Drops of dew fall over the railing on the gate when she pushes it open with a creaking sound.  She wears a white cotton saree and has long, untied hair covering her slender, graceful figure. She walks briskly while carrying a cotton bag over her shoulder as if on a mission. A flock of pigeons fly away at the sound of her firm steps. Sweepers clean the roads of the previous night’s trash. Her silhouette contrasts sharply with a grey-bluish dawn as she walks ahead. Cover Photo by Manohar Koviri She crosses the main road, which is almost empty now. Suddenly, out of nowhere, three men on bikes cross her at high speed. They see her, take a turn and start circling around her, drinking and mouthing foul words and passing dangerously close to her. She stands defiantly on her ground. One of them tries to touch her and, in turn, slashes a cut on her hand. She wriggles out of her way and walks away steadily from them. She is ruffled up by the incident, but composes herself. She turns and continues walking steadfastly. Newspaper boys pass by, ringing their cycle bells. The red sun dawns on the orange sky, throwing a yellowish hue on her face, which is now steady and focused. The sound of the radio’s adjusting frequency from a nearby vendor stall disturbs the tranquillity of the morning.