"Ek Nayi Shuruwaat" - Krishna Singh | Storytelling | Spill Poetry

"Ek Nayi Shuruwaat" – Krishna Singh | Storytelling | Spill Poetry

29 thoughts on “"Ek Nayi Shuruwaat" – Krishna Singh | Storytelling | Spill Poetry

  1. "Pehli dafa utha haat kyun nahin padka"
    Story of those girls who suffered silently πŸ’ž
    In the name of society, family, parents and don't know what…..
    Its too heartbroken poem but TRUE, the naked truth of someone's life…

  2. kyun ek ldki ko kvi pita kvi bhai to kvi pati ke izzat ka hawala de kr chup Kya Diya jata hai. ..har baar hm ldkiyan hi q mujhe smjh ni aati😦😦

  3. First of all a very very congratulations mam 😊 The kind of decision you made is very appreciable and bold. May god bless your child fit and fine very soon. Give a tight slap to your ex husband and your family through your success. God bless youπŸ™

    ΰ€¨ΰ€Ύΰ€°ΰ₯€ ΰ€Άΰ€•ΰ₯ΰ€€ΰ€Ώ ΰ€œΰ€Ώΰ€‚ΰ€¦ΰ€Ύΰ€¬ΰ€Ύΰ€¦ πŸ™πŸ’ͺ

  4. Everyone has their own life story but few have courage to stand and speak in front of public……very well done ma'am….
    M with u!! As I hate this society n their so called cultures which sometimes gives pain more than happiness!! U r right …ye dogala hai samaj

  5. hello…I am a personalized poetry writer…means mai kise bhi kahani ko kavita ka roop de skti hu …
    agr aapko kise k liye poem likhwani ho vo bhi apni hi kahani pr to plz let me know.

  6. there are at least a certain percentage of people who came here just because she wore a sleeveless
    now in reality a girl also knows views(in YouTube and in real life where you need more attention) increases with the openness (literally)of a female body
    so a girl does this intentionally (probably not in all cases, in some cases it's HER CHOICE!)
    and then blames the male fraternity that they are objectifying females

    now after this some people will start shouting at me in first glance with various glorifying words
    but ask yourself once what I am saying it's not that unreal

  7. Speechless ma'am… U just nailed it as always πŸ‘ŒπŸ‘ŒπŸ‘ŒπŸ‘ŒπŸ‘ŒπŸ‘πŸ‘πŸ‘πŸ‘πŸ‘πŸ‘πŸ‘πŸ‘πŸ˜˜πŸ˜˜πŸ˜˜πŸ˜˜πŸ˜˜πŸ˜˜πŸŒΉπŸŒΉπŸŒΉπŸŒΉπŸŒΉβ€οΈβ€οΈβ€οΈβ€οΈβ€οΈπŸ˜πŸ˜πŸ˜πŸ˜πŸ˜πŸ˜πŸ˜πŸ˜πŸ˜˜πŸ˜˜πŸ˜˜πŸ˜˜πŸ˜˜πŸ˜˜

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