Too many people,
Too many shades,
And I guess,
These days,
Everybody is fading.

Less than a second, it takes for the people to fade away. In the mist, I don't know if with bliss or peace. Those nests, have all got incomplete and ruined. A father, a daughter, some of them being grandparents, this pandemic is leaving none.

Were we being monsters to this heavenly earth ? Is this the result of our inability to see the hamartithia ? Days pass, and I see dead bodies of people thrown. And this, this is killing me every single second. I'm dying every single second.

I'm halted in pieces as see a little girl questioning her mother that why did her father never return from the doctor. I'm left numb when I see those parents losing their little munchkins. I am shattered in bits and pieces as I see a 19 year old losing her only parent. I'm dying every single second.

I search some smiles, but I, I find none. There is something in the air. It is polluted with fear, anguish, cries and mourns. My tears won't stop, I want them to cure. I'm in hatred with the word 'positive'. Every night, I pray, I pray to you, but why don't you listen anymore ? You take away my near and dear ones in just some mere seconds. Don't you love me, aren't we your children ? Don't you see pain of ours ?

Now, I'm tired. My hands shake everytime I type, "May the person rest in peace." I lost my peace in pieces. I see myself dissected everyday. My nights have turned sleepless. I see those happy images of those dear persons, and then, then I see their bodies lying dead, as if they are asking me to help. I'm done. I'm done with this. I can't see anymore people dying due to lack of those oxygen cylinders or devoid of being treated.
Why can't I help them ?
I lie here,
Helpless,
Drowning with emotions,
I can't see more deaths,
I can't see more mourns and cries,
Please help us,
Forgive us for our crimes.

~Nandini

#review
#nandini

And we keep looking for those teeny tiny moments,
Like waiting for time and it's laments,
The only story that always remains the same,
A seed you plant, and wait for it to grow.
Yet hope is home you live in.

Look over what you dreamt,
Weave a web over mystery,
Threads you try to sew into a cloth,
Like ebb and flow of ocean's tide,
Yet hope is home you live in.

Under the sky, we all travel far,
On roads of life, as ramblers,
Look over dreams again,
If needed give them wings,
Yet hope is home you live in.

Look over love, the one you want,
Whispering mind, and departing away ?
If yes, give them some wings,
Help them fly and soar among their stars,
Because hope is a home you live in.

#review #nandini

I am relinquished
Endeavoring to discover the authentic soul
I stared myself in reflector
My orifices gawked frigidly
Concealing mysteries and darkness
Orifices impeding the outpouring of tears
My jaws are twirled
Ceasing itself to chuckle
Yearning to giggle
Craving someone to believe her words
Her spirit is broken
Ravaged into chunks
Substantiated flaws of mutiny
Her heart mislay morality in herself
Her marbles are sickened
Full of suicidal notions
Reminiscing about past brutal
Those intolerable agonies of past
She darted at her erratic wings
Wings are halted and gawked awful
She no protracted can glide
She no lanky can perceive contentment
She looked to discover accomplishment
But herself being smashed by the world
She gazed at her simmered face
Full of blotches and gashes
She dissembles a camouflage
To suppress her darkness and anxieties
She felt deserted in the world
Her silhouette evacuated her secluded
I gawk around me,
The multicolored realm distorted into the twilight,
Yanks rolls down from orifices,
My gazes forfeited hope in myself,
My orifices can't divulge anyone,
There is no dawning anymore,
There is darkness around me,
I whimper, sob, and moan,
No one to heed my songster,
No one to heed my despair,
Trauma in my endurance is intolerable,
Stormy aura is whacking,
I am dreading and twitching,
I am repressing from this brutal world,
I fear to doze, I fear to yearn
My sanity is helpless to shirk the horrendous occurrence
I was ravished,
I was massacred by the abusive species of this world.
My corpse is trimmed by full of blotches,
My essence is deceased inside,
My annexes are halted,
I infer I cant fly again.
My heart weeps when people around me compel me to perceive "invisible"
I strived to wail for rectitude,
My voice is dismissed,
My voice now vanishes,
My intellect is ample of suicidal reflections,
I am lifeless inside,
I succumbed when I was "raped".
#review #poetry #ae

And one day in my eyes,
Flashbacks ran so many lies,
With them my soul sighs,
Let's paint the sky with stars tonight.

Only night knows the pain,
How my innocence had a stain,
With it my brain reminds,
Let's paint the sky with stars tonight.

Who had placed my thoughts on sale ?
Bleeding with rue and guilt,
With this my heart cries,
Let's paint the sky with stars tonight.

Hues of red and blues,
Sensing each incident I went through,
With this my body trembles,
Let's paint the sky with stars tonight.

Who had brought the midnight sky ?
Dreams kept me to not die,
With this my eyes shined,
Let's paint the sky with stars tonight.

Placed a name upon this night,
One to set my heart alight,
With this the darkness turned bright,
Let's paint the sky with stars tonight.

#review #nandini

There are days when I want to live my life
But burden of responsibilities refrain me from this dive
There are days when I want to act immature
But the elevating age reminds me the end of childhood tenure

Days where I want to ride all swings
But the fear of world , hauling me from this doing
Days where I want to chill , drinking beer with my friend
But Monday being the next day , reminding me of the mundane office trend

Days where I want to sing my heart out
But fear that society might lodge complaint for being loud
Days where I wish rolling freely in the floor
Pranking others by ringing their bells at door
Days where I wish to scare someone as if halloween
Days where I want to ride in mountain and enjoy the serene
Days where I don't want to be judged by my income and status
Where it shouldn't bother anyone what's my apparel or apparatus
Days where I can express my feelings on their face
Days where for the sake of promotion, I don't have to make fib praise
Days where I want to stand on cliff and shout my name
Days where I want the thrill of breaking things followed by blame game
Days where the stern look of world don't scare me anymore
Days where I run far away from this life that is
being dull and bore


#mr #review #poetry

<b>Death is the colour of empty skies</b>

<i>For whose sake, hence-forth, all his vowes be such,
As what he loves may never like too much.</i>

~ Ben Johnson.

Sarthak died tonight. 1.06 am. N,N′-dimethyl-4,4′-bipyridinium dichloride. Methyl viologen. Paraquat. At first, he felt a burning sensation in his chest. This persisted for an hour or two. Then came the pain. As if somebody were ripping apart his lungs into shreds. It was a slow, painful death. By the time he was brought to the hospital, it was far too late. His parents rushed in to claim his corpse. “Suicide,” the doctor sighed.

Indeed it was. They stared at each other, silent, knowing not what to say. What, if anything at all, were they entitled to say? For it all began back a year ago, when they suddenly decided things were not working out between them. Things weren’t working out at all. The skies that had once been the pink of dawn, abound in love and life, were graying now, and empty. Death is the colour of empty skies; what else could they do but seek out separation?

It had been raining all night that night – the weather cold, bleak and bitter. The two had stood at the hallway like faint shadows. Silent, just like today, until one of them spoke.

“So – ?”

The latter, not knowing what else to reply, had gone on conceding on every point the former made. Until the discussion converged to the point of Sarthak, that is. On the question of Sarthak, neither would concede, obviously. What parent gives up their thirteen year old son? So they dragged the matter to court. Nobody asked Sarthak what he wanted. Not even once.

Tonight, Sarthak is dead. He did not flutter. He did not make a sound. None of the two speak tonight. For now there is no point of conflict – now the petition will be withdrawn from court, and the marriage terminated by mutual agreement.

Sarthak Das.

<b>Author Notes</b>

The names of the central character and the author of the story being identical is an unfortunate coincidence readers are requested to overlook.

#theabsurdist #microfiction #review

Death is the colour of empty skies.

"For whose sake, hence-forth, all his vowes be such,
As what he loves may never like too much."

~ Ben Johnson.

Sarthak died tonight. 1.06 am. N,N′-dimethyl-4,4′-bipyridinium dichloride. Methyl viologen. Paraquat. At first, he felt a burning sensation in his chest. This persisted for an hour or two. Then came the pain. As if somebody were ripping apart his lungs into shreds. It was a slow, painful death. By the time he was brought to the hospital, it was far too late. His parents rushed in to claim his corpse. “Suicide,” the doctor sighed.

Indeed it was. They stared at each other, silent, knowing not what to say. What, if anything at all, were they entitled to say? For it all began back a year ago, when they suddenly decided things were not working out between them. Things weren’t working out at all. The skies that had once been the pink of dawn, abound in love and life, were graying now, and empty. Death is the colour of empty skies; what else could they do but seek out separation?

It had been raining all night that night – the weather cold, bleak and bitter. The two had stood at the hallway like faint shadows. Silent, just like today, until one of them spoke.

“So – ?”

The latter, not knowing what else to reply, had gone on conceding on every point the former made. Until the discussion converged to the point of Sarthak, that is. On the question of Sarthak, neither would concede, obviously. What parent gives up their thirteen year old son? So they dragged the matter to court. Nobody asked Sarthak what he wanted. Not even once.

Tonight, Sarthak is dead. He did not flutter. He did not make a sound. None of the two speak tonight. For now there is no point of conflict – now the petition will be withdrawn from court, and the marriage terminated by mutual agreement.

SARTHAK DAS.

Author Notes

The names of the central character and the author of the story being identical is an unfortunate coincidence readers are requested to overlook.

#sarthakdas #microfiction #review

Death is the colour of empty skies.

For whose sake, hence-forth, all his vowes be such,
As what he loves may never like too much.

~ Ben Johnson.

Sarthak died tonight. 1.06 am. N,N′-dimethyl-4,4′-bipyridinium dichloride. Methyl viologen. Paraquat. At first, he felt a burning sensation in his chest. This persisted for an hour or two. Then came the pain. As if somebody were ripping apart his lungs into shreds. It was a slow, painful death. By the time he was brought to the hospital, it was far too late. His parents rushed in to claim his corpse. “Suicide,” the doctor sighed.

Indeed it was. They stared at each other, silent, knowing not what to say. What, if anything at all, were they entitled to say? For it all began back a year ago, when they suddenly decided things were not working out between them. Things weren’t working out at all. The skies that had once been the pink of dawn, abound in love and life, were graying now, and empty. Death is the colour of empty skies; what else could they do but seek out separation?

It had been raining all night that night – the weather cold, bleak and bitter. The two had stood at the hallway like faint shadows. Silent, just like today, until one of them spoke.

“So – ?”

The latter, not knowing what else to reply, had gone on conceding on every point the former made. Until the discussion converged to the point of Sarthak, that is. On the question of Sarthak, neither would concede, obviously. What parent gives up their thirteen year old son? So they dragged the matter to court. Nobody asked Sarthak what he wanted. Not even once.

Tonight, Sarthak is dead. He did not flutter. He did not make a sound. None of the two speak tonight. For now there is no point of conflict – now the petition will be withdrawn from court, and the marriage terminated by mutual agreement.

SARTHAK DAS.

Author Notes

The names of the central character and the author of the story being identical is an unfortunate coincidence readers are requested to overlook.

#sarthakdas #microfiction #review

MY VANITY

The stars, they are bright,
But under my bed, is the darkest night.

Tell me why tonight,
These ink smudges seem to smile.

And there the graphite smears,
It smirks as if clouds ready to burst.

O dear I don't like rain, I exclaimed.

Why this night seems so wry,
It makes me so worried.

Stupid how stupid,
This reality is so vapid.

Now I conspire to bribe,
These elements of life.

Here is my vanity,
In my prolonged bubble of insanity.

Let me just stagnantly reside.

©Pakhi
19.03.2021
#pm #poetry #review #selfmuse

I love my mother's eyes but never knew my dad's eyes could weep too.

He says he is a bit under the weather but he is lying and I know the ugly truth.

On vacations, he would be the Barbecue man but now the food is too hard to swallow.

My brother is narrating my dad's jokes and tricks.

Would you stand by your superhero if he was powerless?

I know you would but without his strengths, you wouldn't recognise him at all.

Mom blames it on the smoke but it isn't just his lungs, he lost the spark in his eyes and the spirit in his voice.

Another hero defeated by time.

Pour the parting glass and put me in a casket.

Don't keep waiting I will be the donor my dad needs.

When he opens his eyes tell him how I wished that I should have held hands when he walked me to classes.

Oh, my mother's eyes and love.

None can hold up the family like my father. #review #minndofmine

It's been two years since you have left us

Leaving our mind and soul in continuous ruckus

Two years where I haven't seen your face

But not a day has passed without chanting your name

The moment we enjoyed bring wide grim on my face

The  brawls we had  incessantly haunt me till date

I wish I could have been there for you at the last moments

Assuaging our beefs and making you escape from the torments

Things haven't been the same since you left me

Eerie silence on seeing your image still surrounds me

My mood with you going on an anger spree

The feeling of detachment of vital root from my life tree

There are days where I wish to hear your voice

Days where I play your recording and rejoice

Days where without you I feel spineless

Days where I am all alone and there is no one to talk with

Days where I feel empty despite of covering huge length and width

Days where I miss my comrade to fold my unfolded mess

Unaware of the encounters  left for my future endeavours

I will be carrying you with me for always and forever


#mr #poetry #review

#review

Good massage,
Every single person has many desires and wishes but we can't fulfill those, in the end, we just have a pen and paper to write. But those who still facing the same problem in society, or religion must avoid it and do what we wanted to do. That time is not far, we will be free to hug, kiss. As well we want the courage to battle with society and our souls. I hope people will understand this message clearly.

#review

Good massage,
Every single person has many desires and wishes but we can't fulfill those, in the end, we just have a pen and paper to write. But those who still facing the same problem in society, or religion must avoid it and do what we wanted to do. That time is not far, we will be free to hug, kiss. As well we want the courage to battle with society and our souls. I hope people will understand this message clearly.

#review
Omg pooja
It's very sad story 😞

The future is deaf and blind
it doesn't see or hear
screams and tears

tomorrow is mute and unfeeling
it won't utter
any consoling word

later is weak and helpless
it can't rid
the thorn in its hand

What path is left
for the troubled, to affect
the cause of fear?

The route walked
by Yunus - who left
a whale's tum, alive

#AhmadMusa #review #poem

Northern Nigeria


The green north
is sinking into blood
Its land disappearing
and replaced by graves

Its calm air
has been exiled
leaving fear
for people to breath

Rivers of migrants
flow non-stop
below the fierce sun
and heavy night

Wild humans -
a savage specie -
made homelessness better
than staying at home.

#AhmadMusa #review #poem

#review yes you are true. Neatly penned poem. Keep penning

Title: Let’s Write A New Diary

Let’s turn down

That old sallow page,

Make a fire to burn

Those scars and blood shit.

Hold a pen in your hand,

Try to write

With your unstable power

And unshakable spirit.

Walk, walk, walk and

Cross the miles.

Don’t let yourself distracted

With those little vibes,

Never let yourself

Fall in the trap of flow,

Move forward on the road

That will lead to your goal.

Drop the weight of

Laziness and failure-fear

Tie the band of courage

In your hand and roar,

Wash the salt of scars and

Dirt of past misery.

Have a bright smile on face

Calmness in your breath

Open that view in eyes, and

Let’s write a new Diray…

#review #poetry #tony

Marriage

Describing life without marriage is not possible. At the right age, we do marriages if you don't want to marry people judge you differently, human is social animals. We need each other's help, this help may be for physical satisfaction or following culture and rules by the family. As you know two types of marriages happen all around the world first one is love marriage or 2 arrange marriage. I don't need to tell you about both you are aware of those things even in simple lines I would like to describe it.
1. Love marriage
Love happens in school or colleges where we see new, new faces and characters. That attracts us their style of talking, face, spot or writing bla. bla...
We can not fall in love exactly by one accident we fall in love by our habits and wishes match to each other and when we help each other. Many authors have described love in many forms. Love is always standing separately from any other subjects. Don't waste your life in love. You will get many people to tell you like this but what is there without love. Love gives you happiness and sadness, joy and gloom, daring and fear, respect and disesteem, victor and failure. Someone has said everything is possible in love and war. You can lose your mind and become crazy. I have not fallen in love yet it's my weakness and strength.
I don't want to marry and fall in love. Because I'm not able to handle them they used to talk very silly. They are not crazy, they made to make us crazy.

2. Arrange Marriage.
Doing arrangement means preparation. It goes with rules and customs if you are old-fashioned or believe in that custom you go through every single step. But nobody is following those rules. We can't stop ourselves to be quiet until the marriage ceremony. We talk on call after the first meeting And take two-three times kisses after fixed marriage we want a separate place to talk. Here everything is under the control of your elders. You know this life is not goes all the time as you think. Enjoy every aspect of life that is life. Either love marriage or arrange marriage.

#review #article #marriage

"I am the one
Beyond this planet beyond the sun
Reasonable with my every turn"
- With arrogance A father commanding his son.
Delicate with heart, Quiet easily hurt
Not showing the pain, just striving to gain
Son nodded - Thought his Father's word rain Knowledge
The one beyond this planet
Beyond the sun, accepted by his son
Continues again -"Your trembling your fears,
It ruins my name".
Since then
Been 20 years that fear those tears made him a monster that can't be tamed.


#review

Title- A Melody of Ice and Fire

There is a girl around the corner
Oh! Alas did you notice her

I see fire in her eyes
Oh no ordinary fire
Fire that burned her
Inside out turned her
She survived
For her fire inside
was brighter than that around her

I see blue in her eyes
Her skin is icy cold
So cold , it burns
So empty , it suffocates
For her pain was a crown
And she wore it like a queen

This is her melody of Her ice and fire
Exquisite as she seems

#AG #review #poetry