Who am I
I want to be the shining sun-rays,
I want to be the melting moonbeam,
I want to be the flower's fragrance,
Thus I want to find my ways.
Who am I?
I am my mom's cute darling!
I find my dreams in singing aloud,
The wings of my dreams clipped,
I find my ways in writing poems
My ways are confined to house hold about.
Who am I?
Oh! I am a wife and a mother.
My trembling hands seek for hands,
My tiring eyes look for someone,
My lonely heart craves for love,
All my weak limbs refuse my commands.
Who am I?
A skinny old mother at old age home.#review #an effort# dot
I want to be the shining sun-rays,
I want to be the melting moonbeam,
I want to be the flower's fragrance,
Thus I want to find my ways.
Who am I?
I am my mom's cute darling!
I find my dreams in singing aloud,
The wings of my dreams clipped,
I find my ways in writing poems
My ways are confined to house hold about.
Who am I?
Oh! I am a wife and a mother.
My trembling hands seek for hands,
My tiring eyes look for someone,
My lonely heart craves for love,
All my weak limbs refuse my commands.
Who am I?
A skinny old mother at old age home.#review #an effort# dot
#review #freenix
A Day in the life of Sujatha
Part 1
As the slanting rays of the sun fell across her face forcing itself through the old wooden window, Sujatha woke up to a new day quite unwillingly. Her eyelids still not wanting to depart each other, it looked more like a choice made to avoid facing the painful realities. She gently nudged, Bidyut, her 4-year-old son to wake up who had burrowed himself in his blanket beside her. She sat for a moment letting the thoughts of her incomplete project work run through her mind to give her the jolt she needed to start her day. As the blaring alarm rang quarter past 6, Sujatha sprang to her feet and forced herself straight into the kitchen where Lata, her mother had already begun chopping drumsticks for their morning breakfast of idli with sambar.
Sujatha brewed coffee for Vijayan, her father, waiting impatiently for it, seated on an old chair at the veranda, and reading a newspaper.
Sujatha was raised in a conservative family, which followed traditional values. It required her to adopt the 'ways of the women' in the family, by subduing her true self that sought freedom to express her innermost desires. At an early age of 14, her father had taught her how ‘good women’ behave, and how cooking delicious food helps one find a successful groom in the community.
She walked towards the veranda with a coffee in her hand -
‘Appa, coffee,’ she addressed her father with a smile.
‘Keep it on the table. You were late last night!’
‘Yeah, I had to complete my pending work assignments. I still have a lot more to do.’
He lowered his newspaper and stared at her through his glasses –
‘Whatever you have, you should be home by 8 pm. Women should not be late like this. Don’t you know it is unsafe? You have a 4-year-old son! Don’t forget that. ’
‘But Appa, my manager had dropped me home last night. I didn’t come on my own,’ replied Sujatha in a soft tone of voice without willing to incur her father’s wrath.
‘You could take a bus instead!’ was his immediate remark. ’ Anyway, your scooter is back from the workshop for you to take tomorrow!’
Sujatha nodded her assent and went inside. While walking towards her room, she overheard a faint conversation of Vijayan asking his wife if their daughter had uploaded her details on a divorcee matrimonial website, as recommended by him.
‘She didn’t. She needs time to settle down,’ replied a worried Lata.
‘What does she think she would do with a child? Why can’t she listen to us?’ asked Vijayan with an annoyed look. ‘It was not necessary to ask him for a divorce. We could have helped him meet a good doctor to fix his problems.’
Not willing to let her father’s ignorance bog her down, she went to her son Bidyut, who was yet to wake up.
‘Ajju, wakeup mone, mamma needs to go soon today. Get ready; go brush your teeth.’
Bidyut woke up from his deep sleep and pleaded his mother to allow him some time.
‘No! Enough! You are going right now.’ Sujatha exclaimed moving hurriedly to finish all her morning chores. She cooked lunch for her son, and then moved towards getting herself ready for the day.
While she stood in front of the mirror to groom her hair, a deep sense of despair struck her. Her cheerful face reminded her of the high school days when the boys would flock around her in an attempt to get a slice of her attention. She would pay no heed to such attempts as her inclination had always been towards men who averted her. The boys who had no time for a beautiful girl like Sujatha were the ones who aroused subtle curiosity in her. But then, she wouldn’t have known that she would eventually marry such a man and have a remorseful life.
A Day in the life of Sujatha
Part 1
As the slanting rays of the sun fell across her face forcing itself through the old wooden window, Sujatha woke up to a new day quite unwillingly. Her eyelids still not wanting to depart each other, it looked more like a choice made to avoid facing the painful realities. She gently nudged, Bidyut, her 4-year-old son to wake up who had burrowed himself in his blanket beside her. She sat for a moment letting the thoughts of her incomplete project work run through her mind to give her the jolt she needed to start her day. As the blaring alarm rang quarter past 6, Sujatha sprang to her feet and forced herself straight into the kitchen where Lata, her mother had already begun chopping drumsticks for their morning breakfast of idli with sambar.
Sujatha brewed coffee for Vijayan, her father, waiting impatiently for it, seated on an old chair at the veranda, and reading a newspaper.
Sujatha was raised in a conservative family, which followed traditional values. It required her to adopt the 'ways of the women' in the family, by subduing her true self that sought freedom to express her innermost desires. At an early age of 14, her father had taught her how ‘good women’ behave, and how cooking delicious food helps one find a successful groom in the community.
She walked towards the veranda with a coffee in her hand -
‘Appa, coffee,’ she addressed her father with a smile.
‘Keep it on the table. You were late last night!’
‘Yeah, I had to complete my pending work assignments. I still have a lot more to do.’
He lowered his newspaper and stared at her through his glasses –
‘Whatever you have, you should be home by 8 pm. Women should not be late like this. Don’t you know it is unsafe? You have a 4-year-old son! Don’t forget that. ’
‘But Appa, my manager had dropped me home last night. I didn’t come on my own,’ replied Sujatha in a soft tone of voice without willing to incur her father’s wrath.
‘You could take a bus instead!’ was his immediate remark. ’ Anyway, your scooter is back from the workshop for you to take tomorrow!’
Sujatha nodded her assent and went inside. While walking towards her room, she overheard a faint conversation of Vijayan asking his wife if their daughter had uploaded her details on a divorcee matrimonial website, as recommended by him.
‘She didn’t. She needs time to settle down,’ replied a worried Lata.
‘What does she think she would do with a child? Why can’t she listen to us?’ asked Vijayan with an annoyed look. ‘It was not necessary to ask him for a divorce. We could have helped him meet a good doctor to fix his problems.’
Not willing to let her father’s ignorance bog her down, she went to her son Bidyut, who was yet to wake up.
‘Ajju, wakeup mone, mamma needs to go soon today. Get ready; go brush your teeth.’
Bidyut woke up from his deep sleep and pleaded his mother to allow him some time.
‘No! Enough! You are going right now.’ Sujatha exclaimed moving hurriedly to finish all her morning chores. She cooked lunch for her son, and then moved towards getting herself ready for the day.
While she stood in front of the mirror to groom her hair, a deep sense of despair struck her. Her cheerful face reminded her of the high school days when the boys would flock around her in an attempt to get a slice of her attention. She would pay no heed to such attempts as her inclination had always been towards men who averted her. The boys who had no time for a beautiful girl like Sujatha were the ones who aroused subtle curiosity in her. But then, she wouldn’t have known that she would eventually marry such a man and have a remorseful life.
#review #freenix
Part 2
A Day in the life of Sujatha
Sujatha reached her office parking lot and ran towards her floor to login. Once inside, she started her work assignment that had to be completed on priority.
Dhruv, her team leader who had dropped her home last night ‘coincidentally’ seemed to have arrived sooner.
Dhruv had been working with Sujatha for a couple of years. A mildly reserved and hardworking person Dhruv had very little interests in his life and one of them happened to be admiring Sujatha. He had a liking towards her from the day she joined the organisation as a senior associate. This gradually took the shape of a very intense infatuation, partly due to the fantasies he has had with her in his mind. However, he kept his feelings to himself knowing she was a married woman. He would often make excuses to have a prolonged conversation with Sujatha inside and outside the office.
‘Hey Sujatha, can we go for a coffee break? Cafeteria is open now’ asked Dhruv meekly
‘No Dhruv, I have a lot of work piled up and need to complete this by the end of the day’
A visibly hurt Dhruv mustered some courage and said, ‘Come on! 10 minutes in the cafeteria would not impact your work so much.’
Dhruv had known of the recent divorce petition filed by Sujatha through Maria, her close friend who she used to confide in. Upon learning it, he had gone to her with a flower and few words of consolation wanting to look thoughtful and caring; however, Sujatha had not been very pleased with his approach. She wanted this information to be private and had cursed Maria for having shared it with him.
Dhruv stood there awaiting a response from her
Sujatha paused herself for a moment, and then with a confused expression said ‘Let’s go.’
Part 2
A Day in the life of Sujatha
Sujatha reached her office parking lot and ran towards her floor to login. Once inside, she started her work assignment that had to be completed on priority.
Dhruv, her team leader who had dropped her home last night ‘coincidentally’ seemed to have arrived sooner.
Dhruv had been working with Sujatha for a couple of years. A mildly reserved and hardworking person Dhruv had very little interests in his life and one of them happened to be admiring Sujatha. He had a liking towards her from the day she joined the organisation as a senior associate. This gradually took the shape of a very intense infatuation, partly due to the fantasies he has had with her in his mind. However, he kept his feelings to himself knowing she was a married woman. He would often make excuses to have a prolonged conversation with Sujatha inside and outside the office.
‘Hey Sujatha, can we go for a coffee break? Cafeteria is open now’ asked Dhruv meekly
‘No Dhruv, I have a lot of work piled up and need to complete this by the end of the day’
A visibly hurt Dhruv mustered some courage and said, ‘Come on! 10 minutes in the cafeteria would not impact your work so much.’
Dhruv had known of the recent divorce petition filed by Sujatha through Maria, her close friend who she used to confide in. Upon learning it, he had gone to her with a flower and few words of consolation wanting to look thoughtful and caring; however, Sujatha had not been very pleased with his approach. She wanted this information to be private and had cursed Maria for having shared it with him.
Dhruv stood there awaiting a response from her
Sujatha paused herself for a moment, and then with a confused expression said ‘Let’s go.’
#article #review
#Stillteen
2020 the outset of a new decade was an awaited year for all of us. People had glamorous ideas to come up, families had fresh desires, students were to initiate their new phase of life. Many new things were going to happen, but it all came to a halt when the coronavirus outbroke
WHO declared the Coronavirus as a pandemic. The world was paused. Every nation was combatting the virus, all nations were shut. The streets were unoccupied, the restaurants were latched, schools occurred without students, cinemas were shut, temples stood without superiority, Gods were in hospitals.
More than 4.9 lakhs of people have died because of the Novel coronavirus. Worldwide.
Seems as if we are facing a tough time, formerly we lost our talented heroes of Bollywood, The real-life heroes the Indian Army, we lost 20 Indian soldiers in tension with China.
Who knows what all things are going to happen subsequently. Students are getting frustrated, exams like Jee and neet are getting postponed. A sense of depression is thriving in these students. People are running out of cash. Not enough available to rejoice their being.
We all are presently locked down in our dwellings. Praying to God that the circumstance turns nicer. All of us are finding great complications with no doors open to go elsewhere. We all are frustrated, stabbed and stressed. Looking at the upswing in the digits of +ve cases somewhere we all are psychologically dismal. Instead of looking at the news every time, one should spend time with their family. In this period of insecurity, essentially we all are tired.
This year will be remembered forever"2020 a year of coping up with the situation"
#Stillteen
2020 the outset of a new decade was an awaited year for all of us. People had glamorous ideas to come up, families had fresh desires, students were to initiate their new phase of life. Many new things were going to happen, but it all came to a halt when the coronavirus outbroke
WHO declared the Coronavirus as a pandemic. The world was paused. Every nation was combatting the virus, all nations were shut. The streets were unoccupied, the restaurants were latched, schools occurred without students, cinemas were shut, temples stood without superiority, Gods were in hospitals.
More than 4.9 lakhs of people have died because of the Novel coronavirus. Worldwide.
Seems as if we are facing a tough time, formerly we lost our talented heroes of Bollywood, The real-life heroes the Indian Army, we lost 20 Indian soldiers in tension with China.
Who knows what all things are going to happen subsequently. Students are getting frustrated, exams like Jee and neet are getting postponed. A sense of depression is thriving in these students. People are running out of cash. Not enough available to rejoice their being.
We all are presently locked down in our dwellings. Praying to God that the circumstance turns nicer. All of us are finding great complications with no doors open to go elsewhere. We all are frustrated, stabbed and stressed. Looking at the upswing in the digits of +ve cases somewhere we all are psychologically dismal. Instead of looking at the news every time, one should spend time with their family. In this period of insecurity, essentially we all are tired.
This year will be remembered forever"2020 a year of coping up with the situation"
Its Time
Its time to rise from the dunes of madness
Its time to take a step
A step towards the Reality
A step toward the truth
Time and again we have felt the horrors
The pain, the sorrow, the hate
Time and again we hear the scream
The scream which has almost fade
The scream is not of a Girl or a Lady or a Women
We must first try except the reality that she is also a human.
We forget that she has her feeling
We forget that she has life
We forget to give her, her rights until she has died.
The truth is a little different from reality
The truth is that we never care.
The truth is that for some it is always a boy or die
The truth which we can never digest but have to try.
Make the change because its time
#review #abhijit
Its time to rise from the dunes of madness
Its time to take a step
A step towards the Reality
A step toward the truth
Time and again we have felt the horrors
The pain, the sorrow, the hate
Time and again we hear the scream
The scream which has almost fade
The scream is not of a Girl or a Lady or a Women
We must first try except the reality that she is also a human.
We forget that she has her feeling
We forget that she has life
We forget to give her, her rights until she has died.
The truth is a little different from reality
The truth is that we never care.
The truth is that for some it is always a boy or die
The truth which we can never digest but have to try.
Make the change because its time
#review #abhijit
#kbc #review
Part 1
Luke carter was leading his army of robots from one planet to another draining each and every planet from its resources he stepped on. He was frustrated as he had to send life-seekers first to check if there was any life on the planet or not which would take a lot of time and he was eager to go home early as the final match of his favorite sport tournament was going to be telecasted .
So he called his boss through the nearby "galaxy" call center . "hello, boss why do I have to send life - seeker when 99.999991% of planet has no life on it and can I go home early today ? As I want to watch the final match of milky way cup " and the boss shouted "because it's the law you idiot!!
I don't handle those things those are government's order and you can't go home early today, you are already late on your mission today, you may will have to overwork today, now shut the f****ng phone" and he immediately cuts the call.
He was angry and sad at the same time as he would not get to watch the final match of milky way cup. He was even angry on the "galaxy" company who will put their ads everywhere promising good internet connection on every distant planet but wouldn't do so. He can't even watch the match through internate due to poor internate connection. But he continued with his work and
after completing his work he began his travel back to his home
(to be continued......)
Part 1
Luke carter was leading his army of robots from one planet to another draining each and every planet from its resources he stepped on. He was frustrated as he had to send life-seekers first to check if there was any life on the planet or not which would take a lot of time and he was eager to go home early as the final match of his favorite sport tournament was going to be telecasted .
So he called his boss through the nearby "galaxy" call center . "hello, boss why do I have to send life - seeker when 99.999991% of planet has no life on it and can I go home early today ? As I want to watch the final match of milky way cup " and the boss shouted "because it's the law you idiot!!
I don't handle those things those are government's order and you can't go home early today, you are already late on your mission today, you may will have to overwork today, now shut the f****ng phone" and he immediately cuts the call.
He was angry and sad at the same time as he would not get to watch the final match of milky way cup. He was even angry on the "galaxy" company who will put their ads everywhere promising good internet connection on every distant planet but wouldn't do so. He can't even watch the match through internate due to poor internate connection. But he continued with his work and
after completing his work he began his travel back to his home
(to be continued......)
#review #fiction
#mk
My legs were trembling, breath was short , the rush of adrenaline had long left my body, I was standing there in that dark alley, ossified by terror. The fear was enough to lose the grip of the bloody knife that I held tight in my right hand. The clincking sound of the knife touching the floor echoed in the empty alley of the rather quiet street of Seoul. What just happened...I killed a person. I just…killed a human being. The blood of my victim, whom I didn't even know, shone in my palm lines and embedded in my nails, as I observed my trembling hands under the lone street-light out of the alley, and I felt as if it would erode my whole self. I tried to shake off the feeling by wiping my hands off my clothes.. but it was all in vain.
"You did a good job, for a first timer" snickered a quiet voice as it shook my whole self, and I felt a paper envelope being pushed in my bloody hands. "Here is your reward, Ah and don't worry about the trash, the cleaners will clean the mess. Just don't create such a mess next time", Fox whispered rather too close to my ear and surprisingly nonchalantly , and left the shocked me to myself. Fox as his mates called him was as par to his reputation and name…fox. I peered inside the envelope as I counted the amount promised. Should I have thanked him? Why would I? I knew this would happen, I knew that they would want me to kill someday. After all, I am just a slave dog to them…
#mk
My legs were trembling, breath was short , the rush of adrenaline had long left my body, I was standing there in that dark alley, ossified by terror. The fear was enough to lose the grip of the bloody knife that I held tight in my right hand. The clincking sound of the knife touching the floor echoed in the empty alley of the rather quiet street of Seoul. What just happened...I killed a person. I just…killed a human being. The blood of my victim, whom I didn't even know, shone in my palm lines and embedded in my nails, as I observed my trembling hands under the lone street-light out of the alley, and I felt as if it would erode my whole self. I tried to shake off the feeling by wiping my hands off my clothes.. but it was all in vain.
"You did a good job, for a first timer" snickered a quiet voice as it shook my whole self, and I felt a paper envelope being pushed in my bloody hands. "Here is your reward, Ah and don't worry about the trash, the cleaners will clean the mess. Just don't create such a mess next time", Fox whispered rather too close to my ear and surprisingly nonchalantly , and left the shocked me to myself. Fox as his mates called him was as par to his reputation and name…fox. I peered inside the envelope as I counted the amount promised. Should I have thanked him? Why would I? I knew this would happen, I knew that they would want me to kill someday. After all, I am just a slave dog to them…
#review #rhyme #iwritesometimes
I was once like a rainstorm,
wanted my voice to reach every heart
I always talked and talked,
how my light can break the dark
I told everyone about things,
that happened throughout the day,
And when they thought I'm done talkin
I suddenly had a lot more to say
One day, I learned to bit my own tongue
and I became very calm,
I stopped spilling my secrets,
would rather hold'em in my palm
Now I don't speak much,
and it's my silence that brings peace
I listen to everyone with wonder,
as i try to fix them piece by piece
but when I'm alone with my thoughts
I feel something deep within me
The misery that once bought me silence,
helped me to set my soul free
~
I was once like a rainstorm,
wanted my voice to reach every heart
I always talked and talked,
how my light can break the dark
I told everyone about things,
that happened throughout the day,
And when they thought I'm done talkin
I suddenly had a lot more to say
One day, I learned to bit my own tongue
and I became very calm,
I stopped spilling my secrets,
would rather hold'em in my palm
Now I don't speak much,
and it's my silence that brings peace
I listen to everyone with wonder,
as i try to fix them piece by piece
but when I'm alone with my thoughts
I feel something deep within me
The misery that once bought me silence,
helped me to set my soul free
~
iwritesometimes 26oct303am#review #Nandinithakar #poem
The thing about pain is that,
It won't last forever
And it kills but eventually heals
The thing about scars,
Is they all start to fade
Untill nothing is left
The thing about today
Is there's always tomorrow
And if you can't find your smile
I have one you can borrow
Keep smiling
Nothing lasts forever
And it's the thing about everything.
The thing about pain is that,
It won't last forever
And it kills but eventually heals
The thing about scars,
Is they all start to fade
Untill nothing is left
The thing about today
Is there's always tomorrow
And if you can't find your smile
I have one you can borrow
Keep smiling
Nothing lasts forever
And it's the thing about everything.
#review #Mehak2000
1939, Manchester, England
The world was on verge of end...Again. People dying ...again. Authorities spending money like hell... Again. It doesn't matter to Aster Maxime though... Because her world had Ended... Long before the wars .. long before the terror started.. Her world was crushed from the moment she took birth and her mother died from childbirth. Now 23 years later she stared at the beautiful woman in the picture. Aster had got her hairs and eyes....Hazel...A lone tear betrayed her as it made its way down her cheeks. She didn't wipe it.. Just let it flow.
"Aster !" A heavy voice bellowed its way to her ears and shook with terror. She ran downstairs with the an unimaginable speed for bearing a chubby body as her. "Coming Father" She replied in her timid yet soft voice. As she made her way to stand before her father. Her father Major Gerald Maxime was a highly recognised man in England.
As she made her way down the stairs , her father stood in with all the badges on his uniform on...Oh How she wished to see her mother standing besides her father...
"I am called for the urgent meeting." He said with his head held high ...In a voice that could scare anyone.
"With the war in the air ...I may not return for a while...listen to Ms. Clara. Got it ?"
"Yes Father "
"Don't be stupid and don't go out of the house".
"Yes Father "
"Oh how I wish I had a son to accompany me to a war like this. "He muttered as he passed a quick glare of disgust in her direction, picked his heavy trunk up and went out of the door.
"Bye Father..."
She whispered as she heard the carriage outside pulled up to God knows where. ..
Aster slumped on her bed empty stomach that night , clutching her mother's picture to her heart . A flood of emotions erupted from her...as the flood of tears long unshed . .All bottled up...decided to break apart the dam of fake strong mask, that she wore with pride everyday.
"A son...He wanted a son..look at you. ..who would want a daughter like you ..so ....pathetic she sobbed as she seethed all her anger on particularly no one....and maybe without knowing she escaped in the world of dreams. ...And at last doing what she have been doing ....running from reality.
The breeze was pleasing on her skin ...her hair danced with the wind. The ocean was beautiful and the sand of the beach was so soft on the sole of her feet. She wiggled her toes digging into wet soft sand...Her hazel orbs gleamed with giddiness as a small chuckle escaped her soft pink lips. Aster peered down herself , noticing a pale blue sundress complementing her pale skin . She was happy. ..she had never been to beach....but if this was what it looked like...then she loved beaches now..She twirled a little as if she was a child again.
This was first time for him...dreaming of a girl swirling in a sundress , on a beach. ...an empty beach except for them.
As if noticing his presence the girl stopped and with her piercing hazel eyes stared at him with confusion which matched the expression on his face...The girl was ...Average looking girl of London....her pale skin and dirty blond curls gave that away...
He cautiously stepped near her as if still not believing that she was there.
The guy Aster stared at...was simply gorgeous..She had met very less male humans in her life...but never this gorgeous....A mob of silky brown curls disheveled on his head...He was wearing a loose v- neck and a pair of khaki shorts...His skin was sun kissed but what attracted her to step forward were those eyes...His eyes were as deep as ocean besides them...With a flick of mysterious forest green....They were simply beautiful ..
1939, Manchester, England
The world was on verge of end...Again. People dying ...again. Authorities spending money like hell... Again. It doesn't matter to Aster Maxime though... Because her world had Ended... Long before the wars .. long before the terror started.. Her world was crushed from the moment she took birth and her mother died from childbirth. Now 23 years later she stared at the beautiful woman in the picture. Aster had got her hairs and eyes....Hazel...A lone tear betrayed her as it made its way down her cheeks. She didn't wipe it.. Just let it flow.
"Aster !" A heavy voice bellowed its way to her ears and shook with terror. She ran downstairs with the an unimaginable speed for bearing a chubby body as her. "Coming Father" She replied in her timid yet soft voice. As she made her way to stand before her father. Her father Major Gerald Maxime was a highly recognised man in England.
As she made her way down the stairs , her father stood in with all the badges on his uniform on...Oh How she wished to see her mother standing besides her father...
"I am called for the urgent meeting." He said with his head held high ...In a voice that could scare anyone.
"With the war in the air ...I may not return for a while...listen to Ms. Clara. Got it ?"
"Yes Father "
"Don't be stupid and don't go out of the house".
"Yes Father "
"Oh how I wish I had a son to accompany me to a war like this. "He muttered as he passed a quick glare of disgust in her direction, picked his heavy trunk up and went out of the door.
"Bye Father..."
She whispered as she heard the carriage outside pulled up to God knows where. ..
Aster slumped on her bed empty stomach that night , clutching her mother's picture to her heart . A flood of emotions erupted from her...as the flood of tears long unshed . .All bottled up...decided to break apart the dam of fake strong mask, that she wore with pride everyday.
"A son...He wanted a son..look at you. ..who would want a daughter like you ..so ....pathetic she sobbed as she seethed all her anger on particularly no one....and maybe without knowing she escaped in the world of dreams. ...And at last doing what she have been doing ....running from reality.
The breeze was pleasing on her skin ...her hair danced with the wind. The ocean was beautiful and the sand of the beach was so soft on the sole of her feet. She wiggled her toes digging into wet soft sand...Her hazel orbs gleamed with giddiness as a small chuckle escaped her soft pink lips. Aster peered down herself , noticing a pale blue sundress complementing her pale skin . She was happy. ..she had never been to beach....but if this was what it looked like...then she loved beaches now..She twirled a little as if she was a child again.
This was first time for him...dreaming of a girl swirling in a sundress , on a beach. ...an empty beach except for them.
As if noticing his presence the girl stopped and with her piercing hazel eyes stared at him with confusion which matched the expression on his face...The girl was ...Average looking girl of London....her pale skin and dirty blond curls gave that away...
He cautiously stepped near her as if still not believing that she was there.
The guy Aster stared at...was simply gorgeous..She had met very less male humans in her life...but never this gorgeous....A mob of silky brown curls disheveled on his head...He was wearing a loose v- neck and a pair of khaki shorts...His skin was sun kissed but what attracted her to step forward were those eyes...His eyes were as deep as ocean besides them...With a flick of mysterious forest green....They were simply beautiful ..
#review #dot #microtale
Run, run life is a race my son.
Why should I run, papa?
You have to win.
Win? Which race should I have to win?I can't see any track. Where's the track?
Your childhood, your youth will be the track.
When should I stop papa?
Unless you achieve the topper's crown, unless you get a lift to the topmost post.
Papa, my dreams of being a painter is crushed.
Let it be.
Papa, my wishes of being a player is trodden.
Let it go.
Papa, my aspiration.......
Don't look back, only ahead.
My burdened heart hurts papa.
Little more, my son.
My windless lungs ache, papa.
Don't stop, my son.
My loneliness kills me papa.
Last lap, my son.
My humanity cries, papa.
Crown awaits.
Congrats my son, you are the winner!
O, really? But I am no more a human being, I am a rat now. Yes, the winner of this rat race.
Run, run life is a race my son.
Why should I run, papa?
You have to win.
Win? Which race should I have to win?I can't see any track. Where's the track?
Your childhood, your youth will be the track.
When should I stop papa?
Unless you achieve the topper's crown, unless you get a lift to the topmost post.
Papa, my dreams of being a painter is crushed.
Let it be.
Papa, my wishes of being a player is trodden.
Let it go.
Papa, my aspiration.......
Don't look back, only ahead.
My burdened heart hurts papa.
Little more, my son.
My windless lungs ache, papa.
Don't stop, my son.
My loneliness kills me papa.
Last lap, my son.
My humanity cries, papa.
Crown awaits.
Congrats my son, you are the winner!
O, really? But I am no more a human being, I am a rat now. Yes, the winner of this rat race.
#review #fading_betelgues
#poetry
It was so bright..
As if I was engulfed in light.
It was so bright
That I had to close my eyes tight.
But it was not bright.
Inside there was no light.
I tried hard
And I swear I tried.
I tried and I tried .
But no light I find.
Broken shred were found.
Debris and rumbles were found.
But was not bright.
There was no light.
Some lost tears.
Some feelings I had beared.
in all those years.
A long lost guilt there was..A long forgotten regret there was.
I tried hard.
I swear I tried.
But all was void of light.
It was anything but bright.
#poetry
It was so bright..
As if I was engulfed in light.
It was so bright
That I had to close my eyes tight.
But it was not bright.
Inside there was no light.
I tried hard
And I swear I tried.
I tried and I tried .
But no light I find.
Broken shred were found.
Debris and rumbles were found.
But was not bright.
There was no light.
Some lost tears.
Some feelings I had beared.
in all those years.
A long lost guilt there was..A long forgotten regret there was.
I tried hard.
I swear I tried.
But all was void of light.
It was anything but bright.
Falling Before Scoring
His eyes were busy staring at the form
Trying to fill and see what will be her score
He didn't notice he was only with his brain
His heart had sneaked out to submit to her
#AhmadMusa #review #poem
His eyes were busy staring at the form
Trying to fill and see what will be her score
He didn't notice he was only with his brain
His heart had sneaked out to submit to her
#AhmadMusa #review #poem
There we are,
Sitting on the edge,
Waiting for a breeze to come comfort us,
But we realize that the breeze is not going to stay for long.
It passes.
And there we are again,
On the edge...
#review #rishabhsancheti #poetry
Share your reviews😁
Sitting on the edge,
Waiting for a breeze to come comfort us,
But we realize that the breeze is not going to stay for long.
It passes.
And there we are again,
On the edge...
#review #rishabhsancheti #poetry
Share your reviews😁
"THE HEROIC PRINCE"
He is beautiful , he is smart
He is something any father wants.
He is a swordsman , he is a scholar
He is a man of steel blow like a canon.
lonely so they feel, his many many lovers,
no one can own him
they already knew it better.
But everything aside
he is the king's only son,
beside,
Run to his good side.
He is modest in nature
Has to marry someones daughter
Must be pressured for a heir,
We will have our share.
He had a lot of romance ,
maybe he longed for love.
He also had his collection of sad songs unsunged
Patiently did he waited,
for every letter he send .
But a king can't seems to care for an unworthy boy's sham.
"Make him a MAN
or dont ever show him "
But the things that are shown don't have a will.
Will the prince meet his father or his king
One must think what the glory brings
Now he is what the king wanted,
now he is what every father wants.
He is, in that heroic stream
But he is everything what every person deemed.
END
The poem is about a scene where a prince returns to his home after a long time and everyone is hailing his name.
The first para is sung by the scholars, of how he will be remembered by the history.
The second para is sung by the ministers who wants to sure favours from him.
The third pars is sung by an old woman who took care of him since birth . She is sad that no one will remember the part of prince that she knew, as it will never be included in history
#review #poetry
#Einstestine
He is beautiful , he is smart
He is something any father wants.
He is a swordsman , he is a scholar
He is a man of steel blow like a canon.
lonely so they feel, his many many lovers,
no one can own him
they already knew it better.
But everything aside
he is the king's only son,
beside,
Run to his good side.
He is modest in nature
Has to marry someones daughter
Must be pressured for a heir,
We will have our share.
He had a lot of romance ,
maybe he longed for love.
He also had his collection of sad songs unsunged
Patiently did he waited,
for every letter he send .
But a king can't seems to care for an unworthy boy's sham.
"Make him a MAN
or dont ever show him "
But the things that are shown don't have a will.
Will the prince meet his father or his king
One must think what the glory brings
Now he is what the king wanted,
now he is what every father wants.
He is, in that heroic stream
But he is everything what every person deemed.
END
The poem is about a scene where a prince returns to his home after a long time and everyone is hailing his name.
The first para is sung by the scholars, of how he will be remembered by the history.
The second para is sung by the ministers who wants to sure favours from him.
The third pars is sung by an old woman who took care of him since birth . She is sad that no one will remember the part of prince that she knew, as it will never be included in history
#review #poetry
#Einstestine
#review #fading_betelgues
He leaned his head on the cold grilled window of the jail bus, as he felt continuous tapping of rain drops. Some of the drops lingering and others just sliding on the thin glass. His brain was empty. There was nothing he could thinkof. He felt tired, agony, and that was all. Nothing else. He felt suffocated by the sac which was covering his face. Was there anyone other than him in the bus ? Was he alone? What was his name again? He didn’t know.
The chattering of officers was annoying. They were not humans. If humans were like them, he would rather be in the company of demons.
The tapping of the rain on the window was like a lullaby for him. His eyes were getting heavier, his body was tired from not sleeping from last whole week , bones cracking from their excessive use, to put in a simpler form, he was tired at extreme level. But his brain won’t let him take a nap. A little doze of sleep was all he wanted. The moment he gave in to the sleepiness a sharp pain erupted in his right of his skull. It was as if his skull was cracking open. He banged his a little against the cold window. He squint his eyes from extreme pain. He was used to this, but still can’t remember how he get to used to this pain.
Suddenly the bus jerked to halt.
“ Get Up 43396! We are here!” One of the officers approached him, he visibly flinched at being touched. That has been his name from last two years, 43396.
He finally got free from the sac on his face. As soon as his face was uncovered , he felt a rush of cold wind smacking on his face. He wished he could feel the ataraxy but the cuffed hands made him remember his captivity.
The building before them a cement building, though it looked like an abandoned and not taken care of from outside, but he knew better what to expect from the interior.
He leaned his head on the cold grilled window of the jail bus, as he felt continuous tapping of rain drops. Some of the drops lingering and others just sliding on the thin glass. His brain was empty. There was nothing he could thinkof. He felt tired, agony, and that was all. Nothing else. He felt suffocated by the sac which was covering his face. Was there anyone other than him in the bus ? Was he alone? What was his name again? He didn’t know.
The chattering of officers was annoying. They were not humans. If humans were like them, he would rather be in the company of demons.
The tapping of the rain on the window was like a lullaby for him. His eyes were getting heavier, his body was tired from not sleeping from last whole week , bones cracking from their excessive use, to put in a simpler form, he was tired at extreme level. But his brain won’t let him take a nap. A little doze of sleep was all he wanted. The moment he gave in to the sleepiness a sharp pain erupted in his right of his skull. It was as if his skull was cracking open. He banged his a little against the cold window. He squint his eyes from extreme pain. He was used to this, but still can’t remember how he get to used to this pain.
Suddenly the bus jerked to halt.
“ Get Up 43396! We are here!” One of the officers approached him, he visibly flinched at being touched. That has been his name from last two years, 43396.
He finally got free from the sac on his face. As soon as his face was uncovered , he felt a rush of cold wind smacking on his face. He wished he could feel the ataraxy but the cuffed hands made him remember his captivity.
The building before them a cement building, though it looked like an abandoned and not taken care of from outside, but he knew better what to expect from the interior.
#review #fading_betelgues
He leaned his head on the cold grilled window of the jail bus, as he felt continuous tapping of rain drops. Some of the drops lingering and others just sliding on the thin glass. His brain was empty. There was nothing he could thinkof. He felt tired, agony, and that was all. Nothing else. He felt suffocated by the sac which was covering his face. Was there anyone other than him in the bus ? Was he alone? What was his name again? He didn’t know.
The chattering of officers was annoying. They were not humans. If humans were like them, he would rather be in the company of demons.
The tapping of the rain on the window was like a lullaby for him. His eyes were getting heavier, his body was tired from not sleeping from last whole week , bones cracking from their excessive use, to put in a simpler form, he was tired at extreme level. But his brain won’t let him take a nap. A little doze of sleep was all he wanted. The moment he gave in to the sleepiness a sharp pain erupted in his right of his skull. It was as if his skull was cracking open. He banged his a little against the cold window. He squint his eyes from extreme pain. He was used to this, but still can’t remember how he get to used to this pain.
Suddenly the bus jerked to halt.
“ Get Up 43396! We are here!” One of the officers approached him, he visibly flinched at being touched. That has been his name from last two years, 43396.
He finally got free from the sac on his face. As soon as his face was uncovered , he felt a rush of cold wind smacking on his face. He wished he could feel the ataraxy but the cuffed hands made him remember his captivity.
The building before them a cement building, though it looked like an abandoned and not taken care of from outside, but he knew better what to expect from the interior.
He leaned his head on the cold grilled window of the jail bus, as he felt continuous tapping of rain drops. Some of the drops lingering and others just sliding on the thin glass. His brain was empty. There was nothing he could thinkof. He felt tired, agony, and that was all. Nothing else. He felt suffocated by the sac which was covering his face. Was there anyone other than him in the bus ? Was he alone? What was his name again? He didn’t know.
The chattering of officers was annoying. They were not humans. If humans were like them, he would rather be in the company of demons.
The tapping of the rain on the window was like a lullaby for him. His eyes were getting heavier, his body was tired from not sleeping from last whole week , bones cracking from their excessive use, to put in a simpler form, he was tired at extreme level. But his brain won’t let him take a nap. A little doze of sleep was all he wanted. The moment he gave in to the sleepiness a sharp pain erupted in his right of his skull. It was as if his skull was cracking open. He banged his a little against the cold window. He squint his eyes from extreme pain. He was used to this, but still can’t remember how he get to used to this pain.
Suddenly the bus jerked to halt.
“ Get Up 43396! We are here!” One of the officers approached him, he visibly flinched at being touched. That has been his name from last two years, 43396.
He finally got free from the sac on his face. As soon as his face was uncovered , he felt a rush of cold wind smacking on his face. He wished he could feel the ataraxy but the cuffed hands made him remember his captivity.
The building before them a cement building, though it looked like an abandoned and not taken care of from outside, but he knew better what to expect from the interior.
#poem #Nandinithakar #review
I was locked in a house,
All alone with no escape,
In my own seclusion.
Finding Answers to my questions
No one could hear my cries
Nor could I escape that house
But it was so peaceful
It was not like,
The house was locked,
Or it had high walls,
Neither was it haunted.
But it was all,
In my own Mind.
I was locked in a house,
All alone with no escape,
In my own seclusion.
Finding Answers to my questions
No one could hear my cries
Nor could I escape that house
But it was so peaceful
It was not like,
The house was locked,
Or it had high walls,
Neither was it haunted.
But it was all,
In my own Mind.
#review #fading_betelgues #poetry
Shelter from rain and hailstorm .
Shelter is all I craved for.
Shelter from darkness around me .
Shelter from the darkness inside me .
Shelter was I deemed for.
Shelter was all I asked for.
But .
Shattered my heart was left .
Shattered my soul was left
"I am Fine." I thought
But I am not ,now I know.
Why was a hollow made in me ?
Sometime I question mere existence of me.
See what I got for..
Shelter was all I asked for.
Shelter was all I asked for.
Shelter from rain and hailstorm .
Shelter is all I craved for.
Shelter from darkness around me .
Shelter from the darkness inside me .
Shelter was I deemed for.
Shelter was all I asked for.
But .
Shattered my heart was left .
Shattered my soul was left
"I am Fine." I thought
But I am not ,now I know.
Why was a hollow made in me ?
Sometime I question mere existence of me.
See what I got for..
Shelter was all I asked for.
Shelter was all I asked for.
On Realisations
#poetry #review
Each passing day of mine finds
a realisation unbeknownst,
not that of opening a pandora box
I've made one my own, I keep it
close to me and sit by it to
never open.
On and on, realisations add
and also adds my curiosity to open
why not disclose it? I forth come it,
open. for it, a box of realisations
to find it empty has of no surprise.
#poetry #review
Each passing day of mine finds
a realisation unbeknownst,
not that of opening a pandora box
I've made one my own, I keep it
close to me and sit by it to
never open.
On and on, realisations add
and also adds my curiosity to open
why not disclose it? I forth come it,
open. for it, a box of realisations
to find it empty has of no surprise.
#review #fading_betelgues #poetry
Here I stand before thee all.
Full of imperfections and flaws .
Never was I born for brawls.
Nor was I to appease ya all.
Oh how suffocating they are.
Being rude and commands us all not be rude.
How crude thou can be .
Oh the society rules.
Some predefined laws they are.
Bruising the one writhes to be free.
Some brutal ropes they are binding you tight till you bleed.
Keep it down ! Don't show you guts.
Oh my God how they drive me to nuts!
Oh these society rules.
Some loose their wealth.
Some looses health.
To just to fit in the quote of "What they'd say".
But sadly never anyone finds their bay.
When this haze will go away.
The haze of ideology.
The fog of obsolete rules.
Oh these society rules...
Here I stand before thee all.
Full of imperfections and flaws .
Never was I born for brawls.
Nor was I to appease ya all.
Oh how suffocating they are.
Being rude and commands us all not be rude.
How crude thou can be .
Oh the society rules.
Some predefined laws they are.
Bruising the one writhes to be free.
Some brutal ropes they are binding you tight till you bleed.
Keep it down ! Don't show you guts.
Oh my God how they drive me to nuts!
Oh these society rules.
Some loose their wealth.
Some looses health.
To just to fit in the quote of "What they'd say".
But sadly never anyone finds their bay.
When this haze will go away.
The haze of ideology.
The fog of obsolete rules.
Oh these society rules...