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say_me_krish
17w
Read MoreCouldn't have had a better third pod. Thank you so much for this overwhelming gift and surprise reposts @mirakee and @writersnetwork ❤️ (67, 12)
Krish adores you and will miss you both ��
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| A life without a facade |
My mother advised me
to have a bigger mouth
but to make some
ornate filigrees as my
borders so that
the population of my
conversation doesn't
drown due to overflow,
and anger accompanying
can make my words
dipped in sinister letters.
She said that people
judge by my parlances,
and I should neither
bring droughts nor floods.
-- L i m i t a t i o n s --
My father ordered me
to read about the
Statue of Liberty for
some motivations and
applications for straight
spines while walks,
but warned me to
transform my copper-parts
to layered and steady
stainless-steel crockeries.
He believes that rust
cannot have paints upon,
and a plate can relish
and make savour too.
-- T o u g h n e s s --
I said to both of them
that living alone can
still be a priority,
but wearing a facade
is not. Speaking is a
choice, talking an
option, and being
myself is an essence.
My postures are my own,
and being somebody
else kills my existence,
my breakage can
only happen when I give
a chance, and I do not.
I said change isn't
The law of nature, and
my jingle is "to evolve,
improve and amend"
-- (R) e v o l u t i o n --
They said I do not
understand the world,
I said they did not
understand what being
myself meant to me.
-- S e l f l o v e --
~S r i K r i s h n a P S | Dec 20, 2020
___________________________________________________
The previous post is meant for farewell itself, so let's make this a nice and normal literary post :)
ALSO REFER:
ornate filigrees- a metaphor for fences
@writersbay #skp_writes #twosidesc #jinglec -
say_me_krish
18w
Read More
Advanced congratulations for all pods and reposts, advanced and belated wishes for all birthdays. Stay happy, blessed, and away from bots XD. It is ok if I'm not remembered, I remember things, and that's enough.
Please don't feel down, sad, or angry if I do not reply or comment. It would either be because
1. I might have not remembered your name since there are many to comment to.
2. I might have left by the time.
3. And not for the reason that you aren't a matter to me. Everybody here to whom I've talked to mean something to me, and except bots and stalkers, I hate none here, okay?
Goodbye ����Last words (of/for) Krish
He has taken a temporary leave, quite long though
(since he is leaving to his college hostel, not anything else) -
say_me_krish
18w
Read More
Disclaimer: Contains sensitive information. Read at your own risk.
----------
A LETTER ✉
To,
The one who is
genuinely loved.
Dec 14, 2020
Dear REAL,
My body is burning when I'm sitting here to write out this. I don't know why (You can keep a count of the words don't know, feel, strange, lonely; just in case). Life is a hard mess, and there aren't visible threads which lead to a path of clarity. Life to me was pretty strange, or if I were weird for the existence of life, is a myth. And myths aren't meant to be resolved, but are meant to be talked about over and over in the path of searching a solution without knowing that at the end, death is everyone's destination. But the journey can still be different, through different paths, in different perspectives. The sentences I'm writing might feel irrelevant to each other, but read it again darling, it makes sense when you vanish from my shadows and reach my heart. It is just a movement of mere 90 degrees, and I want you, at least you, to understand that I exist, I want to, and I do not want to.
Sometimes, I feel so lonely in a wedding function of a thousand people, and I don't know why. I pretend that I've puked out the heavy meals and sleep in a corner with some whispers which aren't about me. I feel that nobody can understand what I'm going through, and I don't dare to test anyone. I definitely wouldn't portray myself and you to be feeble and fragile. I'm just too alone in this world, where all I can talk to is my pillow, pen and music. I talk to people so well, they talk to me well too, but there mumbles a gut feeling of sadness when I realize that they aren't loving me as much as I do, and I don't know if it's true. My thought runs so complicated that I cannot understand myself at times. The world has 7 people who look similar to me, and yet doesn't have one to explain and elucidate me with what's going on around me. I'm too surprised with how people are so good at pretending, I'm too shocked at how some people always stay happy, I'm too confused with the difference between winter and fall, and my mind is sprinting towards strange thoughts.
I wonder what if condoms get a life, would they bellow or be filled with lust themselves. What if arteries and veins were meant to be entwined instead of a sexual intercourse? Why is this very normal thing feels embarrassed to be spoken upon, and why I myself feel peculiar to make some jokes upon? I think of whether people are flashing their looks at me since I walk strangely. I want to fall from the terrace and see how it feels, and check upon who bring flowers and greetings, and who actually cry. I also think if I can dissect my own mind and find some answer to my existence, whether I was an accident or an intention. My mind is just so very complex. I feel sad that everyone calls me cute but not handsome. Strange again. I get angry over a man who shouts on his son on the road, and I say to myself that he's poor in parenting and that he was a son of short temper. I feel Empathetic for a depressed person , but I feel scared and angry for no reason upon them. I wonder what if I was handicapped, and I think of dying the very next moment. I think my life is the worst, and I think some existences come with 'worst' in their melanin. I don't even know if I'm completely happy or depressed, and I don't know why I'm living right now. Why are you meant to live with such a mad? Why?
I hate people who are pretentious, but I remember that I've lied to my mother at times. I hate people who wear a facade, and I'm the one who forcefully curves his lips up when someone waves at me. I want some nice person to talk to me, bring the problem out of me, and nobody in this universe cares for this atomic structure. Do you? I feel like crying when somebody doubts me and my honesty. It feels like I'm caged in a vacuum. I don't believe in love at young age, I believe it's just attraction towards somebody's thoughts and physique, and I wonder if it is the problem of the age or the mind. I am not sure. I wonder what it feels like to love somebody, to share your lips and melt with the other's, and how it feels to be loved. I feel numb. Do you understand?
I recently read "All the bright places" once, and I'm reading it again, and my artificial bookmark lies in page 201. I wondered what if Finch would have actually lived. If I had met him, he would've definitely understood me. I could've blocked the Blue Hole for him, maybe. He was right in dying, but he was wrong for not speaking to Violet. Violet was a whole mess of a mistake at the end, let us forget Ma'am Markey. His death brought me a feeling of death for myself. I felt like a breathing carcass who is shedding his sadness ou of waters. I'm just Perplexed with how the world is, and I don't know why I'm living. I. Don't. Know. I'm in a quicksand and I'm panicking, if you know what I mean.
I just have even tried to die and withdrew my feelings many times, it sounded so stupid. I've made unsuccessful deaths by holding my breath, mixing two soaps in water and swallowing it, trying to look down from a tall building, pricking my hand by my compass etc,. I want to find a way for a perfect life. A life where someone believes me when I say I get good marks out of fortune, a life where I can find my Personal legend, a life where I can find some stardust for myself, a life where I matter for someone in this cosmos, a life where I can write good. A. Life. Where. I. Can. Live. Knowing. The. Reason. Of. Living.
I don't have a bipolar disorder, just shut up, if you were to say that. They're just "labels", go read the book. I don't need treatment and physicians, I need some solicitude, and some love.
I just want something, some happiness I wish too. I want my strange feelings to disappear. Bring a painkiller, a fire extinguisher and an oxygen tank to make me feel better, and a poisoned knife, some hallucinations, and a sleeping pill box just in case I don't like to love myself. I know you aren't bringing the last three things. But still, I wanted to say. I like to be myself with you. You understand? Write a letter soon. Come to me and define my existence.
From,
the-might-die-anytime.
~S r i K r i s h n a P S
___________________________________________________
Sorry for the boring read, if you made it till here.
I'M ALRIGHT, OKAY? ��
@writersnetwork #poemtomec #skp_writes #skp_letters
@writersbay Poem was tough, sorry ��.
-
say_me_krish
19w
Read More
WILLOW (song 4)
~ᴠᴇʀsᴇ 1~
My kiss is like the snowflake your cheeks embraced last night
Smooth with the lipstick but cracked with my sorrows and blight
And if layers were absent, in case
The smile on your face would vanish n' efface
And then I would cry like a heavy cloud
~ᴄʜᴏʀᴜs 1~
You love me too much, it shows in shallow
But my happy sides are hollow
And I don't desire to see you hurt
I'll just stay mum but not inert
~ᴠᴇʀsᴇ 2~
Life is a hard game when you pop up near my bed
I feel scared if I refuse and break those threads
As if I hate your drolls
I act too dumb like you wouldn't console
But you're a galaxy with stars for me (only me)
~ᴄʜᴏʀᴜs 1~
~ᴄʜᴏʀᴜs 2~
Since you're the carpenter with good repairs
And you can point out and compare
The new are fake ones, the old agrees
I'll try to get out, and off the screes
~ʙʀɪᴅɢᴇ~
You are my shadow and I cannot see it blue
I want to paint you with a smiling hue
You are my shadow and I cannot see it blue
And I'll surely come back with the beams that you had drew
~ᴠᴇʀsᴇ 3~
Wait for my healing and I'll come like a sunflower
I'll heal my scars with your stars and a mild shower
Now this might be a good pastime
And an open test of your spring clime
I know you'll pass the course, will you? (You will)
~ᴄʜᴏʀᴜs 1 and ᴄʜᴏʀᴜs 2~ (X2)
~ᴏᴜᴛʀᴏ~
/Hey, that's my man
That's my man
Yeah, that's my man/
Baby, I know you'll pass the course
/That's my man
Hey, that's my man/
I act too dumb like you wouldn't console
(You are) A galaxy, with stars for me
~S r i K r i s h n a P S | Dec 12, 2020
___________________________________________________
~Lyrics tuned to: 'Willow' by Taylor Swift ��
~Song link in bio, summary in comments ��
~The lines in /..../ are from the song
@writersnetwork @writersbay @sangfroid_soul @laus_deo @thewordplayer #skp_writes #desirec
#mademylyric_s.
-
say_me_krish
19w
Read More
The repetition of the words "presence" and "absence" was intentional :/
Thanks for the unexpected repost WN, was about to delete this ����❤️
@writersnetwork (60, 10) @sangfroid_soul @laus_deo @thewordplayer #skp_writesPre-ab-sent
I've spent my 70080 hours
thinking of a world
without your presence in
a universe which has exploded
my love for
you and made it
absent in your heart,
and present in the abyss.
It is strange how the bathtub
which drenched me
in red rose petals and the
colourless existence
drowned me in the presence
of dejection with
pain holding purple chrysanthemums
for my funeral in the
bathroom, and
it will happen in my
absence, since the place
which finds my presence
will be a coffin and
a pit of reasons
which would be closed
with some extra soil
of excuses. After
all, there lies
no difference in the
journey from the tub
to the wood-box,
burial is present
as a mathematical
common factor,
and the only thing
which is absent,
is y o u.
The showers make
me feel cold,
my blood feel clotted,
my body feel numb,
and myself feel dead.
The campfires
which we blazed together
for some warmth,
for our absent love, and
for Santa to get some
heat after his journey
on sleigh would be completed
has burnt my fantasy and
non-fiction, and it seems to be
total injustice.
The fire, again, is present,
but rage and gradients
decide whether
it warms or burns.
And the love letters
which danced in the almirahs
to romance melodies are
absent, and I wish
I could satisfy the Hunger of
the blaze and make myself
absent.
Whatever is absent
for the one,
might still be present
for the other,
like you, who still fakes a smile
upon the chest of
that guy, who might feel
your absence and presence
at the same time
someday, just like I do.
And while saying this,
I wish I could've made you
absent to the entire world,
but my mother has
taught me goodness, and said not
to hurt anybody else.
I'm gonna ask her
why she didn't
clarify me that I shouldn't hurt
my existence just for
somebody's absence.
The world was injust for me,
and justice is
still present they say,
and the ones who say this are
the o n e s
who made her
b l i n d
~S r i K r i s h n a P S | Dec 11, 2020 -
say_me_krish
19w
Read More
~bearcat troubles~
My life's a mess, and it all
started when my innocent-eyed
beards fell to the radiant braids-
detaching the knots was hard
since my hands weren't in sail,
and hers were only good to leave
back a carcass wig which was
trained everyday with mimic lessons
for a pretence, costing pities of a
leaf which wasn't ready to hold
dead xylems and suicide with
a note of autumn, killed by a crush.
And unfortunately, the game's on,
and the pawns aren't carved to sleep.
She came with a glue for the broken
confines of my picture frames
with promises of bondages, and the
unknown facts that glues were glees
and frames were to rot again
crash my mind only after regrets invited.
I sometimes felt that this was the darkest
hour, and the next wouldn't bring
something magnificent either.
She was a nightmare dressed like a
daydream, and I was a fool wrapped
in a black suit which made me look fierce
for a price of a whole 1000 dollars.
My love was more precious though,
but the bid price ended up to be a farewell.
I didn't write poems for her for I
feared that I might limit myself to only words,
and I forgot in the flow that poets
love ironies, and her grandfather was
a poet too; ancestral blood flows in her,
and it was again unknown to me.
Love wasn't meant to be limited,
but when souls grow distant and spaces
expand, the telephone call cuts off.
It was all a mere game of a queen
in a white gown from the black sides,
and I had to black out my pure whites
after realizing things unseen and unheard
from the thickest books of philosophy.
It is now, and it is late, when I
understand that things seem shocking
and unknown since we wouldn't want
to face the truth, and trust issues
can make even an eye-specialist blind.
I'm sorry for the mistake,
but I'm not sorry for myself:
I couldn't resurrect tombstones
and cobblestones back to life,
and I didn't want to.
A demon with a makeover will
still be a demon, and you cannot
dress one into an angel's disguise.
~S r i K r i s h n a P S | Dec 9, 2020
___________________________________________________
The title is explained in the comments section :)
The phrase "a nightmare dressed like a daydream" is taken from Taylor Swift's song ~Blank space~
@writersnetwork @writersbay @sangfroid_soul @laus_deo @kir_tiiii #skp_writes #tombstonec.
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say_me_krish
20w
Read More
I'll be doing such stuff till my draft piece completes *-*
If you post something like this, tag me ��
#khudkepairparkulhadimarna
#mirakeeKBC (Humne bhi trend create kiya h ����).
-
say_me_krish
20w
Read More
.
Her eyes are fireballs
holding the warmth
of springtides and beaches
for my winters.
Her lips are glaciers
melting like butter
after making a love-look
with my ocean eyes.
Her face is a sunflower
which blooms for
the break of my dawns,
a sun-sunflower she is.
Her heart is a street
which rains roses
from trees, for she's my
symbol of uniqueness.
She is a romance poetry
holding her essence
in the metaphors
I write all day long.
~S r i K r i s h n a P S | Dec 3, 2020.
___________________________________________________
Just wrote in 2 minutes. Sorry.
@floki__ Aapne kaha, aur humne likh diya ��
@writersnetwork (59, 9) @thewordplayer #skp_writes.
-
say_me_krish
20w
Read More
"A winner is a dreamer who never gives up."
~ɴᴇʟsᴏɴ ᴍᴀɴᴅᴇʟᴀ
__________
Hello fellow Mirakeeans! I hope the sunsets are bright enough there in front of your window and sights to paint one more beautiful poem or prose on. I am extremely sorry to interrupt your view, but finally, I'm here with the results of the
'ᴡᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴇ ᴄʜᴀʟʟᴇɴɢᴇ'
hosted by me in mid September (Don't stare at me, I was never a latecomer in my school, so I felt Mirakee was good ����)
I've tried my best to be unbiased, I hope the decisions resemble the same :")
Boom! ����
�� @saya__
A perfect piece with a sense of nostalgia, mixed with the perfect metaphors. Congratulations ��
Here's your prize ��
�� @thesunshineloves
A tremendous piece illustrated with sheer beauty. "Love is the last lifeline". Congratulations ��
Here's your prize ��
��@say_me_krish ��
(since he hosted the challenge XD)
{OK, don't gape at me ��}
�� @eclipsed_sun
A pulchritudinous piece of a dark genre, yet heartwarming and hitting at the same time {what I felt XD}. Heartiest congratulations ��
Here's your prize {the size is larger XD} ��
CONGRATULATE ALL THE WINNERS!!!!!!!
___________
And the accessits, not forgotten to be mentioned!
@rekhuu
A really nice piece setting an aura with the lovely description of star crossed lovers.
Your prize, take it with your virtual hands ����
@colourfulgreys
A poem describing about lifestyle of our beautiful co-humans on point!
Widen your hands to reach the shield ����
@ariel_writes
A short yet amazing writeup holding descriptions with truths of the present generation.
Here is your shield ����
@rusha_c
"We're blooming buds till we wither", just beauteously perfect! It indeed was thoughtful.
Take the weight of the shield coated with layers of my gratitude ����
@sunenasharma
A funny yet a poignant piece bringing memories of our favourite cartoons, it was really cute!
Yours is here, lovely lady ����
MORE CONGRATULATIONS FOR OUR SPECIAL WINNERS PLEASE ��
________
This clearly was a challenge posted to get people out of their busy schedules and writersblock, and hence nobody should be saddened with the prizes. After all, I'm just your fellow friend here, and my perceptions cannot decide your writing, right? ��
Congratulations again, to everyone who participated in my effort ����
Stay happy, keep shining ��
P. S. : Bg edits are done purely by me with my own template ������
@_rainfrost_ Finally, ee lo ��������
#skp_writes #skpc -- for all my challenges
#smk_we_ch -- to read the submissions of this prompt.
-
Homo Sapiens - 12.0
(Aerodynamics of human atoms)
7 octillion atoms inside your human body. Aerodynamics of every atom draw your bones in different direction, with your myriad purposes of ultimate purpose, with curiosity in caves of your brain, with unbridled catharsis, and with quests in very question of your human existence. You’ve gotten yourself in predicament when all of these atoms uncage their selves like prisoners who have become pessimistic and more neurotic just because of that experience of negative fear force of crucifixion they just felt before they could save their rest valuable days by untucking the evidences from their tongue bells. And they wrap helplessness around their shoulder girdles. An aerodynamics to press your body against the pressure of gravity get disrupted to maintain the mechanism of balance and equilibrium, that’s the time catastrophe falls for your persistence, you break down gradually like soft feathers from struggling bird midst the barbed wire fancing in your backyard, who wants to win the authentic battle of survival.
Homo sapiens and their lives - one of the most beautiful kaleidoscope with perplexed glass parts inside it. Just running on the circles, making patterns in every turn, showing the art of brokenness by giving strokes of tolerance to adapt every piece life offers them, no matter of their favorite or not so favorite color,they just learn how to accept the edges and angles to throw reflection of rare redemption in viewer’s eyes. There are days when every implementation of law to live empirical life fails, fuel inside your engine to drive your life car turns out detonating or accident prone with lower octane, rucksacks on your unceremoniously shoulders become heavy, mysteries inside you turn out insurmountable, and when will inside your body feels numb, wrecked you feel it, as the straw that broke the camel’s back. Life throws you in the towel, will make you see the legal reality beyond the horizons, where your anticipations quid pro quo familiar shocks inside your very nerve of perception, will rejuvenate all past moments where your cowardice construct you to be blind, to be inside your comfort zone where paradigm from your all directions make the biased perception to prove you right in the court of that musclesbox of heart, for temporary satisfaction or felicity and later you think all you could have done is to be stronger inside your shoes to face the real world.
We homo sapiens tend to overlook the ordinary things in our life, which actually make our lives work. There is human nature to have cravings to dig up superficial things with intense desire to find out something your neurons want to achieve irrespective to weather you have any need for it in your life, or without knowing the impact of it on your ECG of your heart, is unknown too important to hack your conscience of circumstances? Under the tutelage of releasing sand of hourglass you can put your interest nigh to the path to celebrate yourself every moment, to create revolutionize in the blood kissed cells of your body rather regretting just on the echoes of I could have done this or that. Leather of your Jackboots till your knees try to get you collapsed inside your own weariness of monotonous life when your soles don’t know how to dance on adversity anymore, when you feel your pain is overdosed by opioids and you wonder how exaggeration write non persuasive poetries under the square of your uncomfortable sleeping pose, and you just draw curves on bedsheets and not having sleep.
And what makes homo sapiens more depressed in daydreams, miserable in bad magnetism, lost as confused litigator, alone in amorphous reasons, suffocated inside their own pockets in this immensely vast and intriguing experience of human life is the way they choose to live their lives. Lessons they have learnt, experiences they have got in a moment of changing environment, or failure or bad phase they forget without their consent. While living this untouched yet millions of times lived human life, homo sapiens have had known all of the above consequences, results, actions, about fall(s) and false(S), grief, felicity though they choose to get stuck in the moment or phase, they’ve got cuffed by their senses in a bad way which leads to self-sabotage only, this is what makes them feel empty yet too heavy, healthy yet rotten, happy yet half dead. And all they feel like an unemployed artisans who by own self has disconnected their inner threads to live life in its finest form and accepted failure at halfway by just not being persistent with their own selves, by not giving attention to their own growth, by ceasing self-exploration, by just giving up on their worth. Just in the influence of few unimaginable situations, when sometimes things don’t go the way you have wanted to make them work, we humans just get tired of lives that we forget there is something new every day in this vagueness of life, there is lips singing optimism in nothingness, don’t close the doors when you find no face to give a knock on rather go out-of-doors give knock on that door of your heart, mind, soul by your own self, train your mind to be happy with the company of your own self and watch how content you feel to be independent for your own happiness, to be responsible for your own pain because if you want you can just change your perceptions to the phases, to people, to things. Because time comes every one of us feel forlorn, left as victim of our own emotions by any action of other human to us, and then you soak yourself in schnapps in the centre bar of your town, wear heavy bulletproof jacket for the rest of your life so vulnerability never even try to sit in the anterooms midst your ribs, and you lose the vulnerability which actually makes you homo sapiens,and be cold hearted, or you just blame yourself to make it prone to holocaust of hurt. When we know all of these can't we just learn how to stay happy in real manner with our own self. No one would die for you, and no one would live for you.
Every time you would not be able to have balanced, standstill life and if you think so then you’re unfamiliar to the familiar human life, a naïve who will stick to the stubbornness to wait for the perfect time and just end up with passing time unknowingly, without knowing the worth of time, chasing flowers in hurricane and throwing thunder bolls in serene sky. Rather accept the moment, the packed treasure it carries, try to undress in good way and even if you get failed don’t wait for someone to help you out, to listen your silence, or even to feel healed, just move on before next moment shows its back to you because life isn’t too short to live but your reciprocation way is too long process to make a chime with. Time comes we humans feel these are just words easy to speak out on the wings of air, easier to pass ‘em as message by stranger like me and all you would feel is only one can understand who do feel it cause not everyone is an esoteric for life love, but I do think one survivor knows the shades of journey of other survivors, streets can be different where we travel, intensity of accidents we jump into can be different at crossroads but experience to feel pain, to feel unknown emotions, to get lost and to get found is similar not wholly but in bits. This is the only way which keep all homo sapiens together in this human life. Beats to beats. Pain to pain. Atom to atom.
©jeelpatel
-
soulfulstirrings
17w
Read MorePerhaps the biggest set back is when we let our dreams wither away .
#cagedc @writersbay @odysseus
Image credit to the rightful owner .O' moon
Do sing me a berceuse tonight
For I long for sleep to rest on my lashes
And silence the voices inside my caged mind
/No longer am I that bird that once dreamt of soaring the welkins
I am just a sepulchre of broken dreams/
©soulfulstirrings -
Chapati and Salvation
It was a curvy and steamy enclosure where I found myself. I was placed over a pile of others like me; it was warm and soft, perfect for a newborn. A woman, with tender eyes, bright smile and small hands, was rolling the dough into a brilliant circle. I had the aroma of her love and goodwill. And I learnt the space I was stored in, was called a casserole when she called her little daughter to relocate it on the dinner table. Over time, I figured out, I was meant to accompany the chicken gravy, and I sank into an existential crisis. What was I? What was my identity if not for someone who went along the main meal? It took some time, but I accepted that it was my identity to be the tail of the comet, and that's why I existed— to be someone whom hungry fingers would ignorantly tear to fill in and taste the sizzling gravy. But a comet without a tail doesn't exist too, and that was the sole pleasure of my epiphany; it gave me acceptance and a sense of purpose. This woman, with a caring scent adorning her, sat on the dinner table with her daughter, and I sat inside the casserole, now no more placed on top, somewhere in between. I don't really know for whom the wait was, but after about half an hour, she served her daughter, made her a delicious looking plate, and later, tucked her in bed. After a while, she came back, called a couple of times to someone, that I yet have no knowledge of, and just like that, the night passed away with her asleep on the dinner table. And I wonder if it's right to reveal because it's a tad bit personal, but she cried before falling into an unintentional slumber. Anyway, next morning, I was hoping I'd be able to fulfil the purpose of my being, but the wicked woman had lost who she was in the night; her hands weren't the same, and her eyes looked ugly, and though she did me wrong, I have to admit that she looked sad, and it hurt to see her like that. I don't know why. Perhaps, because she was like a mother to me, and after all, she was the one who gave me birth. But unlike a good parent, I was thrown out, with my seven siblings. She whispered to herself, that some animal would be quenched of the hunger. But I was upset.
Under the scorching sun, and a blue sky, I mourned my failed life. There was no salvation for me. To kill the demon called hunger was the purpose of my being, and I had already faltered without any mistake. I was burnt on the edges, and my body was brittle. I was a man of flour and water and a hurting soul. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a mongrel came, picked me up in its jaws and strolled away. My parched skin was hydrated from his salivating mouth. But alas! I was not meant to be the grain of his belly. A notorious boy hurled multiple stones at the poor cur and he had to drop me on the asphalt and run away. At that moment, I thought he had god's grace upon him but soon realised Apollo's wrath was all he had known his whole life. His face was scorched, and his eyes shone like innocent pearls. He collected my fragments from the ground and his touch felt like my mother's before she forgot the kindness. His hands cradled me like a luxury, that you're afraid to lose. With a thin stature, semi-naked body and bare feet, he had a huge heart of steel, because he offered me to his younger brother too, who was, more or less in the same condition as me. They sat shugging their worries in a corner, and the time had come for me to attain salvation— to eradicate their hunger and achieve the purpose. The little boy's brother took the first bite and his face flushed with a child's innocence; his face of happiness had been snatched by treacherous fate but my taste on his tongue brought it back. Slowly, both of them ate away all of me, piece by piece. The pathway from their mouths to their bellies was salvation; I had served my purpose. But little did I know, what I had done. A fellow chapati that was wrapped inside a newspaper told me that it saw a headline that read,
"A LITTLE BOY AND HIS BROTHER PASSED AWAY FROM FOOD POISONING."
And I had to console myself, so I whispered underneath my breath that at least before death, they tasted life, although the venom they consumed felt like a heavenly feast. That was all!
©zohiii -
veloc1ty_
17w
Read More2020 was nothing short of a crazy roller coaster ride. Full of ups and downs and momentary pauses. A year packed with wraths, disasters, deaths and a deadly pandemic, also a year where people felt free to take a break and explore their hidden skills. People learned to love more and to be grateful for the things they have over others. Some people lost their lives, while some lost their loved ones.
It wasn't anything different for me. I laughed, I cried, I loved, I lost, I met a lot of amazing people, made new friends. Everything was going steady until March when corona crisis hit the deck.
While the whole world was at halt coz of a deadly pandemic, most of the fortunate ones like me got a moment to pause and breathe. I didn't learn anything new during the break, but rather I got to sharpen my current skills. Then, I was able to bond back with my family. Also, I had a lot of time to relax and sleep (._.) ty 2020 for catering to my laziness. On the same note, I'm ending this letter (._.) I'm exhausted already xd
Jk
I'm more grateful towards the people I have in my life and those include my family, friends and yes, you guys as well. You guys kept me occupied, loved whatever I put out this year and made me feel so fucking special. Itna pyaar toh meko ghar wale bhi nahi karte. ;_;♡
I'm grateful towards my girlfriend who loved me more than anything and made my 2020 just the best year of my life. Such an angel she is. No draame, no naatak, and the best thing, low maintenance hehe. I mean it doesn't even feel like a relationship. Coz I hear people are stressed out in a relationship and that it's an adult thing. And here, we both look at each other as kids who need to be babysitted and loved. Between us both, she's the better one, ofc. A better babysitter, a better person. Thank you baby ��❤
I'm grateful towards everyone I read on Mirakee this year, I enjoy reading and IMO there's always something new to learn from everyone. Thank you for contributing to my knowledge and skills. All of you wrote wonders this year.
I'm grateful towards @mirakee for developing this application. More addictive and creative than any other app on playstore. Anything I say about this platform isn't gonna do proper justice to it, so I'll just get done in few words hehe. I love being here. I love writing and reading here. You guys are the third biggest reason that made my 2020 amazing. Thank you so much :") ❤
I'm also grateful towards the swiggy walas who delivered pizzas and burgers to my place when it was near impossible to go out without getting scolded by dad xd
And lastly, I'm grateful towards music. fuckkkk there were so many songs that I listened to on repeat. The music was great this year. Amen.
©veloc1ty_
#gratitudefor2020
Ps: I have a small surprise/ gift for all you lovely people for constantly showering your love upon me and no it's not part 4 xd
IK I should've written that instead of this but
1) I'm burned out.
2) I'm stuck at a point and I'm still wondering how to continue.
3) It's holiday season. your boi gotta rest.
BUT I assure you, that it'll be my new year resolution for 2021( i.e to continue the story :P )
Anyways, so the surprise is a tiny token of appreciation and it is written considering the glorious occasion of Christmas in mind. I'll post it in a day or two. Yes! before Christmas. Call it an early Christmas present from your boi (._.)
Love you all ��❤I'm grateful towards every single being/thing that made me feel loved in 2020, and no matter the impact, big or small, all had a significant part to play in it.
©veloc1ty_ -
soulfulstirrings
17w
Read More
When chaos overwhelms .. solitude revives .
Words redeem .
Refer-
Realm - domain , territory
#obscure @odysseus @sumana_chakraborty @preetkanwal
Image credit to the rightful owner .Recluse
Often I fade away into the inner layers of my soul
Where I synchronise my lost cadence to the wonders of silence
/obscuring myself from the realms of this world
I rise yet once again in my poetries
Sometimes as a heartache sailing in origami boats
And sometimes as hope flying on paper planes/
©soulfulstirrings -
mirakee
17w
Write a poem, short story or quote using the word Obscure.
-
writersbay
17w
.
-
thewordplayer
17w
Read MoreThe days are dreary,
and these nights are long.
Here I lay, astray in the labyrinth
of dilemmas, waiting for the demon
under my bed to come to my rescue.
But adding to my misery, he is lost.
Even he abandoned my lost cause.
As thunders echo in the ivory sky,
I fear if it is wrath of the norse god Thor.
Or is it just the Avalon, weeping because
it's apples can no longer cure us, the humans.
For today, we have stabbed humanity to it's demise.
What have we become? I ask..
We execrate this life, while we also annihilate
to survive.
We pity the ones who stand
beneath us in the pecking order,
also, we envy the ones who lead the echelon.
But how are they any different than us?
Is it because their roof's more or less coveting?
Or their robe's more or less velvety?
Or is it simply because
some of them still amass a soul?
In the hours of the demise, we light
the little candle in our churches.
We ring the bell dangling in our temples,
but not for once we step out
to aid the ones who are in need,
the ones who don't sing our prayers.
// We preach peace by singing battle hymns. //
// We fall for skins daubed by glitters, //
// and then denounce love when the lights turn off. //
// What have we become? I ask.. //
How did the lost demon beneath our bed,
from when we were little,
make his way up to the mirror hanging
on the wall?
I wonder, as the night keeps getting longer,
and the day awaits to be even bleaker..
-
thegreymetaphor
18w
Read MoreStop!
Stop building bridges
for people who only keep
burning them down.
Stop bleeding for
vampires with
unquenchable thirst.
Stop jumping off cliffs
for those who would
neither be your wings to fly
nor catch you
at the end of the fall.
With all that magic,
all that love within you,
don't you dare walk
through fire again
just to thaw a frozen heart.
You're a pheonix, darling.
Risen from ashes
over and over again.
You contain an entire
cosmos within you.
So the next time you let
the wolves howl at you,
make sure they treat you
like the fucking moon.
©Srishti
_____________________________________________________
The next time you reminisce my kiss,
imagine it as a silver blade against your lips.Stop.
Stop bleeding for vampires with unquenchable thirst.
©thegreymetaphor -
kosachaya
18w
Read More#trance #wod #writingcontest #creativearena
Thanks @writersnetwork for the lovely repost.
