From the time I remember, I was confined to a room With colossal almanacs And enormous yearbooks, They never sparked any Interest in me, for I was A roguish kid who loved to Scribble very furiously On the floors; while no one Could sense the bud of Art Blossoming within me. ~I was still 9//
It was a conundrum and Still is; how I landed up In a dark dusty art gallery With sculptures and idols, It was Eden for me and For those few aesthetes, I am still unknown why those wood- carved objects Brought sincere tears and And evoked ecstatic feelings, Nevertheless I heard some Negations echoing across The marble hall, it's obscene, Art has been befouled— Art has been adulterated ~I was mature at 15 and The adults befuddled me//
The company of the elderly Gives me peace always; so I Hurried over to one who was Drawing some abstract lines; Reflection— the title was apt— An Abyss; dark as the blackhole Was staring back: What is it— I asked; and he responded—A Lie, It's your Ego; you are hurt and Yet you serve people's will, They push you to the depths Of unending pain; you Begin To realise that your act isn't A Stigma to the society nor To yourself; yet your beliefs Leave you So Far Away— Art is deep for thinkers Art is shallow for talkers, ~A 17 year old got the answer That she sought//
Art is divine; art is immortal, Humans need art to survive, But humans cause it to perish, Art is tranquil and eternal— A simple tune that pleases Your mind irrespective of the Language and it's dialect is Art, We all are creators with a bit Of creativity hidden within us, As long as we recognise it; And use it in our speech— In the plainest possible form, Instead of disparaging words If only we could nurture it With appreciation— we would Surely hear the Far Cry of it ~An artist realises her value//
//Artistes are lionized personages with an entrenched grip over their artistry; a mere piece of paper proffers creativity to their thirsty minds and in return they consign refined and eloquent pieces in the form suitable to the tastes of their beloved spectators//
The reason why I wrote this is because I have always heard people condemn other artistes and their work while trying to place their favourite ones on a pedestal. BTS has dealt with it too. They became really popular after Dynamite, but that doesn't change the fact that before it happened, many people tried to defame them, making themselves sound uncultured. It's absolutely okay if you don't like a particular art form or the artist, but do respect them, if you can't appreciate them. Art is to be celebrated, and there won't be a better occasion to say this than today. Happy BTS day to all. Stay happy :)
alubrious; you are like a panacea for my pain, I was a nomad with broken bows and some splintered arrows; directionless and deserted, You showed me dreams I could never ascertain, We both shot those coruscating jewels of the moon– these stars paved our discrete pathways We mused together– now the present is in vain, I hide in crowded places yet I can hear your voice, In my dreams, we both fly across horizons, /When I open my eyes, the room's empty again/
eenage seemed so unworried and surprising, But somewhere there has to be a balance— Between joy and sorrows; the scale may topple otherwise— every passing second was advising, Until I needed just a quiet place all for myself, I have said it a thousand times and still I say, / Even repitition seems like a blessing/ I can win my battles, only when you rebuild my fort— of uncertainties; I run after dreams, Will you hold my hand if I fall while chasing?
tale of us, parted by a bittersweet farewell But joined by some undelivered messages— They do a lot of magic in this 7G world, / I quietly cast a spell/ A selfless one— to not let the clouds hide my Polaris, to let my star sparkle just for me, In a calm paradise—soon— we shall dwell I hope one eve—our sorrows would be dispelled,
ears shall pass, we shall grow up; go far away, /Wherever you are, I know, you always stay/
••••••• "Our tale won't end so abruptly, it will continue for ages till the river of verses penned by me for you, merges with the ocean of ballads, to form an eternal epic– which shall speak volumes about our eternal friendship"
Stay is an upbeat song written for ARMYs by BTS wherein the members express their yearning to see their beloved fans, who have been their inspiration and their sole reason to follow their dreams. Although we live in different corners of the world; they know we are always going to stay with them, lend our support during their darkest phases and smile with them during their joyous moments. And that's what they assure us of– they won't be leaving us ever.
The lyrics hit especially when you are missing the person closest to you, as there already so many who have abandoned you. You both will be choosing different roads in your life, and will eventually seperate, unwillingly most of the times. Even when you know that still nothing has changed between both of you, you will feel a sense of dysphoria; and then you comfort your aching heart by remembering the endless memories that you have created, and then cheer up again hoping to see that person, someday.
There isn't a specific reason for me to love BTS. Maybe their words inspire me to compose literary pieces like the one above. Maybe they became role models for me, while at times they became my best friends whose laughter gave me joy and made me forget whatever I am going through. Maybe, they just stayed with me all the time through their tunes when there was no one else, and told me: You don't need people around you to make you feel as if you are in a crowd; you need them to be with you in your mind and their absence won't even matter to you. We are always there, so whenever you feel left out, visit us in our magic shop!
A special thank you to @/lovenotes_from_carolyn for hosting this challenge. I purple you
PS: This is an extremely late submission, but I couldn't come up with anything suitable for the song, until today.
These brown walls of my smoky whare have been a testament to the brawls I had between my calamus and my heart, which is recalcitrant; I usually disregarded the pleas of my quill — to write my undemanding thoughts ad be forthright as a writer should And gratuitously gave in to the likes of the latter, by being dishonest to myself. / I became a C R I M I N A L/
I wrote under the dim light of the candle About philosophical ideologies of which, I myself was unaware— those crumpled pages laughed at my foolish attempts to pen down notions and emotions which I had never experienced in my lifetime, And yet again my inflexibility infiltrated, through the cracks on my wall which I never bothered to repair—it screamed— Please the audience! Please the readers! / I became a S L A V E/
Time flew by; the candles on my broken desk was replaced with a black lantern, I became a rich man, with untainted glory; I became a rag man with a rudimentary approach towards literature; I failed to enjoy the process of writing while I learnt to grab the fruits of my undeserving success / I became a P R I S O N E R/
There was chaos outside the door of my shack It was deafening—the limelight that drove away my shadow, was dreaded by me, I entered inside perforce, only to despise the darkness that had set in; my sun was sinking, Somewhere my conscience was loathing me I was feeling shallow— my ink had created poetries which everyone fancied except me, I saw Anne's diary and she comforted me— "I can shake off everything as I write, My sorrows disappear, my courage is reborn" I added— If only I write for my own self, If only I stop gratifying the crowd; I realised that I am a part of it too— And my own happiness matters a lot, to me. / I became T R U T H F U L/
I used to believe that I am still a youngster as my family had directed my mind to think and act like one and it was epiphany for sure as I came to know after a lot of deliberation that I was far more observant than any of the elders known to me. These elders mantled my credulous behaviour with cloaks of malicious tales, their motive was to let me get exposed to only the mirthful side of the world. They were least knowing that I was a wildflower who was meant to not adorn a flower vase but endure the heavy torrents of rain.
~ , . , . , ~
My grandmother had advised me one evening, while she was delineating a poem from a newspaper. It had a mysterious and an abrupt ending. I was just seven at that time, and it's the age when you have absolutely no visualization of the outer world. I was ambiguous about the poet's comprehension when he penned down verses saying that the birch tree had to live alone when the summer bid a farewell. Inspite of knowing what fate autumn would bring, I could not absorb the poet's conceptualization for I felt that the tree would soon get coated with new green leaves next year.
Time had a lot in store for me. It passed so quickly, and I had seen the world from all angles. There were both buoyant and melancholic things to ponder upon and that's how it all was balanced perfectly. I was like the warrior princesses in a folklore; who had the liberty to follow their will. I was no longer a kid who would be inane to count the stars, but I was a stargazer who would be grateful to the sky for infusing magnanimity in her. My kindness led me to encounter people and the more I came in contact with them, the lesser I started to trust them.
~I blame no one. Perhaps it was only me who gave my warmth and grabbed those enervated hands, without knowing that they would crush my generosity. I realised, I am that birch tree. There were many who would ask me how I am doing but that interrogation came with an expectation that I would be fine nevertheless. Still, I had many to speak about my dolour, but no one with whom I could strike a telepathic connection; who would commiserate with me without any need to shout for myself. That clairvoyance was missing in my world~
Just like the people in my grandmother's statement, I egressed their humongous world. I came to know why people don't enjoy others' company– because they always wish to be prioritised. They need attention before love, they wish that their efforts to make others happy are acknowledged. Most of us don't recognise their worth. And then they leave us, knowing that the world is just the same, with or without them. I made visions of the city we never were; instead we were an empire with many distant lanes. My faint voice would lose its path in the chaos. I won't wait for anyone to stay back, nor would I break ties intentionally. My universe won't have the glow that a dreamland has in a fairytale– but I won't have anything to regret.
Sweeping so gently, My canary foliage– It looks majestic,
My leaves are my crown; A shade of dandelion, Worth a thousand gems,
Will they shun me now? Just one, touching the red soil, Two leaves, on the ground,
The cycle of time– Is reversed by the hourglass, Five more leave my branch,
The days of autumn, Pass slowly; I am destined, To live so lonely,
So be it, 'tis fine, I shall live the way I should– Grounded and humble,
I will stay for all– And if they fade far away, I will stay for me.
I was affrighted of being sympathised. It might be my own ego that prevented me from letting others clear off the fog settled on my olive coated mountains; but it won't improve my vision which is anyway obstructed by tears. I neither wanted to free the peace seeking dove residing within me, I simply throttled it. All felt that I was trying to be an attention seeker, while I despised the thought of being exposed to a photon. Life was much rosy before. But something happened which dispatched my inner child and gave birth to an adult. An adult who could never know what childhood meant, who was racing with invisible enemies. It was endless. The battle raged on and the opponent grew stronger; everyday yet another soldier of light was slaughtered.
What was disconcerting me was unknown. The ones around would pat on my tiny head and supply their daily dose of advice – Time is the medicine. How I wished not to hear this constantly; it was a mere lie sugar coated. Time isn't a medication, it's an excuse to turn the truth into falsity. It makes you accept what has happened but it does not make your pain any lesser.
~They said happiness is a positive force. If you radiate positivity, then you get it back. Well, if science could define life then we weren't possibly required to state facts based on assumptions.
They said that I was strong and I can do it. It seemed so hilarious–people judged me, even when every element of stress was visible on my sullen face. For them, your weakness is just a phase afterall.
They said, I had to be tough like the ironwood tree. I still can't fathom their hollow preachings, I have been a creeper all my life and it does not seem exactly wonderful when I was suddenly forced to be solitary.
They said that they loved me. And love is blind. They never saw what I wanted them to. They encouraged me to open up and when I did, they told me to forget it all and wait for something called Hope. This Hope has been a hallucination and it will always be one, for me~
It was another wearisome evening, with me trying to figure out a reason why life should be chosen over death. I was missing my young self; the dark circles under my eyes were a result of countless nights spent sleeplessly and I suddenly felt matured enough to know who was deserving to get a glimpse of the warfield in my mind and who wasn't. I had signed a pact with myself–henceforth I won't go on ranting my problems to every single human being; the walls of my grey house and my potted plants would do a better job of absorbing my worries.
Humans are fickelminded and I proved it. Not even ten minutes had passed and I received a text message from him. He was a schoolmate, with whom I had lost contact. "Wish to meet you, may I expect you to come to the park?". I didn't want to leave my house; socializing was my worst nightmare. But I could not find a suitable reason to turn him down. And I agreed. Against my own will.
•: , ~
It was another evening of Summer, but it was somewhat different. Was it beautiful? Were fresh daisies blooming in my searing garden? Three years had passed so quickly since I started meeting him. I had just learnt how to pull the strings of the guitar, while he played love songs. I wasn't sure at first if he would be able to help me, but his sophistication astonished me with passing time. How could someone perceive another being so well? And, why would he listen to me so intently? Why would his hazel eyes stare at my face as if they wanted to capture it and see me again, in my absence? Why would he grab my hand and say that we will overcome this together, as if he could feel everything so deeply?
I had to find out his thoughts. And telepathy struck; he texted me again– "I need to talk to you. I hope you will come". I hurried down the brown pavement. He was standing there at a secluded corner of the park; I guess he didn't want to announce his declaration to the world. I went near him.
Without his consent I began and now I wish I could reverse time:
~I don't need you to give me your heart, I just need a patient ear to absorb the dysphoric reverberations of my past.
I had realised that, all these days I was just a street singer crooning some upbeat tunes for the busy crowd; but now I need an audience to cheer for me. I want you to animate my aspirations.
I am a bank, with my sentiments being saved and locked up laboriously. You had invested your love after much thought, I secretly hope that you also, won't turn out to be a spendthrift
Will you be the one to accept me for who I am? Will you be what the folks call as the Eternal Love? ~
A cold and icy expression greeted me. Then he spoke:
~I am glad that you found me to be someone who is worthy to be commended for his actions. I never intended to be the Prince of your fairytales, I came to you with a purpose and it seems like it won't attain the results that I had wanted.
You, a girl whose heart was shattered, seeked refuge in me. I sheltered and fostered you. I did not expect anything in return, I was waiting for you to ask me the reason why I could understand you, and you never did. I had faced the same obstacles. I needed someone to cut my shackles. You must have taken my cheerfulness for granted~
//Love doesn't exist until the same magical feeling of adrenaline rush is felt by someone who is destined to meet you at a place fixed by time; till then, it is just an emotion of desolation. And when it happens, the world lights up like Christmas night, your heart sings carols and wishes your flustered cheeks, a lifetime of joy and affection. It derides your scholastic brain for being defeated yet again, while the latter, in full consciousness, pities you for your folly. I am sorry, I never experienced it in your company//
It took me infinite insults and heartbreaks to realise why love is just a lie. I felt that he was the one whose blood carried purity and truth. I couldn't see the clots, though. The fork came and I walked along crushing the maple leaves like a Lovelorn lady, back to my paradise; where even the temple bells resonate an uncomfortable peace.
It's too late for a New Year Post. But maybe this is the last one, for a while...again. See y'all soon! Do read it, even if it's a bit long ...Some of you might have already read it ;)
~Life Goes On: Intro~
The notebook titled 2020 was loose by now; with the threaded spine ready to give up and the tawny pages ready to flutter out of this seemingly auricomus cage of a lifeless life, nonetheless my obstinate disposition took the lead and my hands shuffled 'round and reached to what looked like a needle with an acicular point.
Threaded it was again; the spine reached a state of being virtually perfect, but as it is proposed that perfections don't deserve to last longer than the guttering candles at night– my eyes gazed gratifyingly at this chain of words which I had facetiously forgotten, or perchance pretended to have slipped from my amnesiac encephalon. The words were waggish and did not have any feasible effect of significance at that particular time which was dripping with caramel like jollity, but as time is the teacher; this upshot was quite unforeseen.
"We are all entrapped in a maze, and it's absolutely fine; it ain't a compulsion anymore to find the purpose of your presence in here–for all that matters is if you have been a kind acquaintance to all those lost travellers who were with you and if you have succeeded in in refilling their empty ink bottles with an elixir worthy of making them stay inclined towards their true potential, instead of being like dry dehydrated leaves......"
~Life Goes On: Interlude~
I remember these words were written at about midnight of 2019 by a parnassian person like me, but when I read them again in an altogether new era (2020 was equivalent to an era, a mysterious and dark one), it was somewhat arduous for my heart as all the arteries were being stretched to a point of uncomfortable tension. The feelings were not quite nostalgic as the vintage fragrance of an old diary is, still it would be sensible to assume that they had pressed my weak nerve, unintentionally.
A new year. A novel beginning as it is supposed to be for all breathing earthlings, 2020 is definitely not one in the history of Homo Sapiens. While Tyche certainly did not consider blessings to be offered, her capricious nature was hidden instead, deep down or perhaps swallowed by the Earth itself. With many a graves embellished, with many a men canvassing their existence, with a blackhole descending on this orb and guzzling even the slightest chance of joy–this year had showered droplets of contusions and confusion.
I further read the sentence, as incompleteness in any work always vexed me. It was unreasonable of me to hold on to one group of compatible words as some people would say that this is the first symptom of a logophile, but since I am a human being with a myogenic heart, which is diplomatic always, I chose to not let go off my grip from that tatterdemalion page.
~Life Goes On: Outro~
"..... Labyrinths are dutiful in displaying intricacy. At evey curve, at evey turn you are bound to find rather another twist anticipating you. All this luminosity that you had so carefully rekindled till this adverse peak might dissipate. Let it be. You can't stop every flame from getting blown out. Light it 'gain. Just as the lisle holds the florets of the anadem close by, hold on to yourself. Spare yourself some love. Drape an eiderdown o'er the stranger next to you; he might be beholden. O Human, who hath been probing this journey's end and just filling thy soul with trepidation; the intent is not to wander aimlessly and fear getting lost– but to find the critical faculty to distinguish the right road of the fork from the left. Shadows do betray. Be prepared for the dark storms instead of rejoicing in the bright valleys".
It was fated. It was darksome. We might despise it– but it is our past. All happenings have been carved and cannot be wiped out. All these scars glow too; they steer us towards precautions–only if we were liberal and forebearing to see them! And this is pretty much how everything is balanced and Life Goes On...
Aren't we all wishing to see them once? And that's what inspired me to write this. I wanted to make it happy, but the Zero O' Clock effect didn't let me. Still, I wish all of you would stay happy and keep on working hard. We are all going to be happier!
Happy first anniversary to all my loves
~Lovenote: Escape From Reality~
The flickering lights of the evening vanished, and my mobile battery gave up. It is an addiction, they had once said, and I had challenged them that I won't be a victim of it; only to fail in my first attempt. Their notes hit my tympanum and swirled down right to those four lifeless chambers of my heart and unknowingly built a new chamber, so purple. It was love at first, then it became a habit and now an obsession. I needed them. I was loved by many but nobody allowed me love myself the way I wanted to, the way I deserved. I longed for some space. I wanted someone to hold my hand, give me a hug and say, "I won't give you false assurances that everything would be fine; but I would be there to relieve your pain at every moment; I would not be able to gift you a golden sturdy palace, but I would give you the strength to let your house of cards hold its ground firmly. I would never leave you, if you would want to leave me–I would present you a silver chain with a pendant having my good wishes, for you wouldn't be wanting to stay with me always– but I would want to", and they did say all this to me. Indirectly. And I became a lover of them. Directly~
I wanted to see them. Feel myself being that one drop in the ocean of purple elixir. For just once. I would cry my heart out seeing all the other drops turning into pearls when they would touch them, as if they were magical oysters. I wanted to see their faces and their eyes that hold the universe, shine infront of me. I knew I won't be able to, never ever. It was Zero O' clock. A whalein was sad and tears poured out again, slower than the last time. Hope had died–
Until they flew to my room and thousand clematises bloomed~ _______________
~Lovenote: Reality Meets Fantasy~
Zillion wishes, you repudiated when the Genie of luck offered– you desirated just one will, Everyday a maiden crossed her fingers, while plucking out petals of the scarlet flower– Rose it was, a thorny one; and our ballerina with an enfeebling persona, broke down at its prophecy, Once again, we came to you– now tie your satin laces and let us have this dance,
Over the horizons of despair, beyond the gleaming concert halls, a room exists–an epitome of our bond!
Curtained in pink, a moon jar is shining in the corner with a vintage gray piano, Look under the pillow; through the portal of photo cards we will enter in your dream, Open your mind to us, find us in those books– maybe another leaf has dried while waiting for you, Closer I leaned to them; I whispered– still I need you here to slow down my racing heartbeats– Knowingly they smiled, turned the speaker on and wrote a lovenote– 'And you gonna be happy.....'
This is written using the tune of Hark The Herald Angels Sing. Hope you like it :)
Thank you WN for this Christmas gift!! I love you! _____________________________
Hark! The journalist gave a shout, It's now time for a virus' bout! Extraverts cried and started to whine Introverts like me were all fun and fine, On the couch with my mobile, Besides tons and tons of project files, Carefree I enjoyed my time– Savouring juices of sweet lime! Hark! The journalist gave a shout, It's now time for a virus' bout
Links for lectures poured and poured, Me? In my dreamland I soared! Never on time, shabbily dressed I slumped down, always not refreshed! My siblings screaming 'round me, I was driven crazy! Someone save me! Pleased were my dear parents now, I had to bring groceries somehow! Hark! The journalist gave a shout, It's now time for a virus' bout!
Days passed, months passed with ease! I was still as cold as a frozen cheese! Exams and tests all online, Inspite of them, I was a lazy swine, I felt I might be missing my mates– A video call pepped me up, at night late, I now yearned for my routine, For those happy days I had once seen! Hark! The journalist gave a shout, It's now time for a virus' bout
Come vaccines, now fix this mess, Just fix this mess, more or less! The TV 'gain blared some news, New mutant now on the loose! And here we are, back to square one, 2020– with you, I am done!
//Jingle bells, jingle bells jingle all the way, Please be safe and sound– at home is where you stay//
Aren't all of us humans trying to be Soliditary and insolent? Burying every single feeling– in graveyards; selcouth and dolent, It's dark; the winter has arrived, But by being darksome, O humans, What conclusions have we derived?
Have we ever, just once, please– tried to gaze into those cavernous eyes, They share secrets, and treasure lies, Thy mirror– it won't show our inner beauty! Why don't we speak instead of– bottling all thoughts– sad and sour In just four teeny chambers?
/ The world is quiet, with no one to care and listen– we say, Have we yet perceived the meaning of this silence– do we ever stay?/
In this irenic mood, in this quitetude, Let's heal those contusions of each other, In this silence, let's hear our heart beat, Let's remember some otiose moments, Let's enjoy and live together, for one another,
Metanoia — let it rush through all the veins, The warmth of this apricity; let it douse our frozen tissues, Let's learn to give and sacrifice, For our all of mankind, for friends and even for a vice,
// O humans! Unlike the honey bees, let us not sting and hurt, Let us not be prideful and curt, If the need arises— let us have a last breathe, While serving drops of honey like love//
Miraquill is really a home ... It has gifted me some valuable treasures which I could never afford to lose. I am blessed to be a part of this family.
Thank you to all for being a home for me ... For all your love and support
@rjd_creations You know what you are for me bhai... I love you the most and will always love you... You are more than a real brother for me and you are the bestest brother... And it's impossible to live without you... I promise I will cherish our unique bond forever ❤️
@fairytales_ Di , you know you are special... Thank you for being my kindest sister.... I adore you always ❤️ Remember you are loved always and you have me always by your side
@tamanna3 Hey tamanna di... You know you are a kind soul ... Thank you for your love and asking me always how I am ... Loads of love from this lil ghost ❤️
@tejaswini_3 Bro , Is it okay if I don't say anything? You know what you are for me right? We share a very special bond ... Thank you so much for everything for always being there for me... I love you ❤️
@arya_abhipsa Arya... I miss you here ... Thank you for always being there whenever I needed you... Loads of love ❤️
@thesunshineloves Di you are the best... Thank you for always being there for me ... Love you ❤️
@btslove Hey love you are kind and you are adored always... Thank you for your love ❤️ I purple you
@ak_anjali_daydreamzz Anjali Dii .... You are the best yk... You were the one who introduced me to our puple fam... And you have always been there to read my posts ... But sleep timely hehe ... Love you ❤️
@fromwitchpen Sanam we don't know each other well .. but your comments always makes me smile... Thank you so much... I adore you ❤️
@/the97_introvert. Niranjana di... I miss you a lot ... You are one of the kindest soul I met... Stay the way you are and take care of yourself... love you ❤️
@/taekook_maknae Hey maknae , you aren't here ... I miss you... You are the sweetest soul here who always stays with everyone and is always concerned if someone is not here... Thank you ❤️ I purple you
Candle's sojourn ended long agone, Only wax remain on the floor. No scream nor no moan, Nothing to enjoy but be bored. Senses took leave and bid farewell, But even then it really felt well.
Sun had set and darkness took over. The only light got extinguished, Abruptly all got sober And the night got relinquished. Initial silence became tiring , And it got more while it was retiring.
I could not but stop the sob for hope All went in vain said my inner self. It wasn't the end yet , for I had to cope And keep moving until the clock strikes twelve. I mustered up courage , now that I failed In every aspect , to get up to what was impaled.
I stood again on my own two feet, Limping but still, steady enough. I went to where darkness and light meet, I was tired, so I let out a huff. Opened the cage and I stood across As pulled me to light, some delicate floss.
• A bird that flies amidst growls of thunder • A salient voice that is sucked into a void • A fairytale that lives in a world of wars • A sunflower that is in love with the moon
I gather four torn pieces of a letter and twenty three petals of black roses, then lay them side by side, willing to witness a work of farewell. But this silence is deafening and my mind too tired, to pick the handful of remnant voices in a dying wind. I steal a last glance before taking on the same way to an end.
( maybe I'm wrong, maybe this isn't the beginning of an end- the thoughts echo louder than ever, but it's time, as always )
An hour passes, or perhaps two.
There's another letter at the doorstep, and a bunch of roses. A group of poets and another group of florists enter through the backdoor. They spend an hour, and leave. Just like that. : :
Farewells are never easy. Unsaid goodbyes are tougher. For all the world and its people debate on, life oscillates between predictability and coincidences. A cosmos of thoughts in the mind and another of stellar orbs outside. For even the sky is a misnomer to a dweller beyond ours.
A million years pass by in a flash. Our perception of years, only a mere tool to help us survive the brevity of an existence.
I replay a jouska of yesterday but it plainly gives away the mundanity of days I'm living. I convince myself saying, atleast these emotions name me alive. For what's in a farewell, is also in voids. And it smells of an old love.
You and I, we're all living at ENDS.
/ To all the unsaid goodbyes, and voided presences /
Edit - This post is directed (in a quite indirect way) to the people I met here, who left without a goodbye. Unsaid words of farewell hurt more, still we can't stop loving the ones who left. I'm putting this up only later, coz I couldn't tell them anyway. It's been a long time here, and things just happen. People happen. But some day, we've to let go of everything, coz they just go anyway.
A farewell is a #paradox , including this. Khamsamnida Yeoreobun
To be honest, we loved the name MIRAKEE❤️. It was inspired from a Greek word, Meraki used to describe doing something with soul, creativity, or passion.
But the realisation that the word Meraki has a broader interpretation and can be used to describe cooking or preparing a meal, arranging a room, choosing decorations, setting an elegant table or even purchasing the perfect gift for your best friend, made us rethink.
Therefore, the name MIRAQUILL was coined to better reflect our focus on the appeal of written matter as this app was designed with the writers and readers in mind to bring more attention and visibility to words. A quill is a writing tool made from a bird's feather used in the past as a primary method of written communication. So adding quill as a suffix makes it more compatible with our objectives and aspirations.
Although we will always be MIRAKEE in our hearts, we are very excited about our new name Miraquill because it is more in line with our vision- a global interactive platform for a truly creative community of writers and readers.
Tell us in the comments how you feel about Miraquill!
Along with this name change we have offered you an exciting library of unlimited photographs brought to you by Unsplash. You can update your app and search for photos.
However, with this new addition, we have removed the upload image option from the app. This step has been taken to ensure that creators are credited for their artwork. We also want to make sure that photos with nudity, violent imagery, screenshots are not allowed on the platform. We expect writers to respect the original work of photographers and the guidelines of the community. If you would like to upload your image to the library of photos permitted on the app, we can guide you with the process. Please write to us at firstname.lastname@example.org.