“The caged bird sings with a fearful trill,
of things unknown, but longed for still,
and his tune is heard on the distant hill,
for the caged bird sings of freedom.”

Maya Angelou, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings

I remember reading I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings at Speech and Drama during school days. The words were gripping. I felt then, there was a strong echo in these words; a sense of shock travelled through my whole body at the way we pronounced certain phrases. And I began to think this was the force of language; the purpose of literature. I longed to write a piece like this then, and I still do.

 

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