#satirical
In the Name of Research
Festival again in the inbox—
red letters scream liberation:
“URGENT! TOMORROW’S DEADLINE!”
As if civilization itself will halt
if no paper lands today.
They know the weakness of researchers—
more than research, they know email addresses.
They roam the alleys of Google Scholar,
peek behind ResearchGate walls,
dust off Academia.edu’s cobwebs,
and pluck “potential”
from the silent numbers of ORCID.
“Dear Esteemed Professor,”
(thesis unfinished? No matter!)
“Dear World-Renowned Researcher,”
(world aware or not—the inbox knows!)
They promise—
“High Impact Journal!”
“Peer Reviewed in 24 Hours!”
“APC Only 1500 INR!”
Oh, what a bargain!
The paradise of knowledge—now on flash sale!
“Indexed in Google Scholar!”
(where almost everything drifts)
“CrossRef DOI!”
(because a number equals prestige)
Deadlines sprint
as if aboard the Knowledge Express.
Miss today, and theory may vanish from history!
Review? Naturally—
perhaps even before opening the abstract:
“Congratulations! Accepted!”
They know the heart of a researcher is soft,
and the CV thirst is strong.
So dreams are sold
in the crowded inbox market.
When it floats again—
“Urgent Reminder: Last Chance!”
Remember—
true knowledge never rushes.
Good journals wait.
They don’t advertise.
They maintain quality.
Because
the journal that may close tomorrow
is always the most “Urgent” today.
Feb 24
Feb 24, 2026 at 6:04 AM UTC
Pure, Pure Bengalis
We are pure, pure Bengalis—
or just ink on imagination.
We shine in the light,
We humiliate women in the dark.
We are patriots—
We loot the country,
Yet hold it high on the world stage.
We steal wealth,
We forge our identity as thieves,
And bring shame to the nation’s face.
We are Bengalis—
We hunt for opportunities all day,
Make crores in moments,
Acquire fake certificates.
Every chance becomes a weapon,
Corruption swirling in our hands.
We are Bengalis—
We seize, we manipulate,
We spend, we claim development,
We carry wealth built on others’ sweat,
Shattering the hopes of many.
We are pure, pure Bengalis—
Vision in our eyes, patriotism on our lips,
Dreams in our hearts,
But in our actions, we loot, cheat, and stay silent.
Feb 18
Feb 18, 2026 at 11:32 AM UTC
The world is not a line,
of words sweet 'n bright;
It is but a face of woe;
Of cruel slander and twisted lies.
On every step are blackened leaves,
And 'tis to be a blight;
That has halted every river in every nation,
From flowing to its destined might.
This world has counties two,
One Fire - the other Ice;
And thee art to enjoy twain,
from letters time to time.
This path has choices two,
One darkness - the other light;
As for the steep and hike,
Art equal unlike the final sight.
This coin has faces two,
One head - the other tail;
It has painted tail with head,
Distant yet very akin.
Lost is the meaning of,
life, respect, frame , kind;
Pain, love, help and men,
long ages-decades-centuries w'hence.
Had there not been a mask,
On each smile and all frown;
It shall be clear and crystal,
The two streams; The two seas.
Two seas of humans live,
two streams of karma white;
Yet not a drop of humanity,
inside th'infinite whirl of hate.
Generational be this eutopia if passes-
The world has but faces two;
two seas, two streams, two paths,
Too cloudy to be clear, too clear to be far.
Two remain the voices,
screaming in every head;
Envy, wrath, greed, lust, fear,
Understood only by the dead.
Two remain the choices,
To live by form and shape;
To understand the open maze,
To render the strangled ways.
Loud and clear be I-
The world has but faces two,
And gluttony, love, greed, judge;
jealousy, lust, and physical life,
In a dark and pitless drop lie.
O' the Sea salty,
of lie and frame;
That's all that remain today,
All that remains today.
Feb 14
Feb 14, 2026 at 12:17 PM UTC
Don’t you want to be — lonely?
Everyone’s doing it... now.
Humans in shells.
When love... no longer sells.
It’s the new craze —
Go on,
Try on these new chains.
It’s the new craze —
Dawn...
of a strange age.
Try some loneliness —
a quiet kind of pain.
Try some loneliness —
your own company...
in vain.
Don’t you want to be — lonely?
Everyone’s doing it now.
We can gather —
to be alone...
together.
It’s the new craze —
Setup in new chains.
It’s the new craze —
Dawn of a strange age.
Try some loneliness —
It’s colder
than it seems.
Try some loneliness —
It echoes
through your dreams.
Come on...
Be lonely.
Or you’ll be left behind.
Come on...
Be lonely.
Or you’ll be left behind.
Come on...
Be lonely.
Or you’ll be
left
behind.
Jul 23, 2025
Jul 23, 2025 at 6:11 AM UTC
Once upon a time
In a kingdom far away
Lived a prince
With a parrot
That could never say nay
The prince was as fair
And as good and true
That he bore a mirror
On his shiny shoe
The king was old
And not that bright
My true son I am old
you are always right
Our land is no longer
As fair as should be
You must slay the dragon
From across the sea
Make my kingdom
great again
Was his dying word
The righteous prince
that was always true
Got his sword and his shield
and his shiny shoe
Ride forth into the land
He said to his nobel steed
For the holy truth
And the pious deed
He came across
a crouching man
With a cart full of books
in his nobel lands
Thy be a wizard I say
if mine eye is true
Deceitful words on parchment
carried by thy hans
My lord
who is just and true
This is but litter
to burn for my evening stew
The prince was glad
he did not like books
What have you cooking, he said
he was hungry by the looks
Oh, but lord
I am but a humble serve
But to the princ surprise
He was undeterred
This stew was of such a peculiar making
It had everything a heart could desire
And indeed it was a stew of marbles
That could build an empire
Come ride with me
this is my will as ever before
And the man-wizard
Bowed right down to the floor
Make my kingdom
great again
Was his dying word
Then it was not long
as you might say
They came upon a man
as pale as the day
In his cart you know
as you might have guessed
potratess of princes and princesses
They were quite underdressed
What heresy is this
As you well understand
the prince exclaimed
I am the only prince of this god given land
My lord with your inspection
This is but traped souls
Traped in their own reflection
They see only themselves
But in time they will only see you
If it be your wish
I will make it true
my just lord and fair prince
The prince was glad
He did not approve of false idols
So he quickly bestowed the man
With lands and titles
Let me put the lords grace
upon the land
And he bid the pale man follow
So to take a stand
Make my kingdom
great again
Was hid dying words
And low and behold
soon again turning mellow
They came to see
this third odd fellow
With a cart full of pumpkin
I care not for this
It has to be great
It has to be spectacular
But the odd man say
My good prince look
This is no pumpkin
thy eyes have mistook
He drew out his wand and
biffe-dee-baffe-dee-boo
A golden carriage
You see
Will take you wherever
you need to be
You need think no more
Just relax your mind, it is so
No tedious decision upon
Where you want to go
I say let's go
beyond the heavens
To a land with red
and fruitful soil
What is this mystical land away
I need a place
To put bad people
That doesn't understand my greatness, to stay
Dark men
Eating cats and dogs
And obstinate witches with crooked noses
Eating squeals and frogs
Make my kingdom
great again
Was hid dying words
....Now I am growing tiresome
my children
Your old grandpar say....
Oh now, you say that
the parrot I have forgotten
But mind you there was not only one
No it was not rotten
There was a whole lot
A choir of cockatoo
And as everyone knows
A whole lot mean true
this was indeed pleasing
for our dear prince delight
that he was the best
at every given plight
That all loved him
who was right of mind
Who was good
Not mad nor blind
May 26, 2025
May 26, 2025 at 5:41 PM UTC
You think I speak of blood lineage,
Clearly I hold the whetstone,
But that's because you're dull.
Maybe,
I am.
From my shine, shimmer-
I'll stay solid as file;
Whether if needed firm or gentle,
Soft or abrasive.
In address to the west,
The rising sun.
At least, that's from our perspective.
From the hammer
Who shaped the stone.
Feb 14, 2025
Feb 14, 2025 at 11:07 PM UTC
It's more than simply what you typed,
What you spoke over the phone;
It's how you've done it
Down to every detail,
From the face you made
To each little keystroke.
The trends, the habits, & routines
By which you live your life by;
Tagged with geolocation & time.
Nowadays, there's even more devices
Like the phone or speaker or television;
Like satellite, transmitter, receiver.
There's a tag on your ear
By which you're known by-
It's just not what you go by, chattel.
Feb 13, 2025
Feb 13, 2025 at 11:05 AM UTC
Well, I guess we need
To send out the hounds.
For the crafty sheepdogs
To go pick out the bad actors
Hiding among the crowds.
Look over your shoulder,
There's that chill again,
The heat is rising
And you can feel something creeping.
Let it take you on,
Lest it take you over.
We've been
Building momentum,
Silently growing
Like a beautiful lotus
Or festering fungus.
It's just a matter of perspective,
It's only a matter of time.
Give in, or give up.
Fly if you will,
Fight if you think you must,
But listen to your neighbors.
Are you honest?
Are you trusting?
Are you nurturing?
Don't worry, don't stress out;
We're gonna figure each angle,
Lay out all the motives.
It's all there
On the internet,
And freely given!
You had a choice, you made a choice-
You dressed up the bed, now rest in it.
Feb 13, 2025
Feb 13, 2025 at 10:52 AM UTC
Ivory lad,
Ivy grad;
Tell me,
Why is it that you're so slow?
Behind the times,
Stuck where
Even your parents have outgrown.
What eccentric lessons,
What bombastic professors!
To say it is one school
Would be an insult
To the whole of the institutions'
Asserted goals & aspirations.
It would be a disservice
To their alumni,
The attendees,
And those to be admitted.
Prattle off your dissertations,
I'm genuinely interested
To hear of your perspective,
But I won't hold my breath
So keep the air honest
Lest you share a foul stench
Like dioxide so sulfurous.
What hand is up your ***
To puppet the controls as so?
What stick has been stuck
Through your rear-end
Which parades you around on?
What pike has been found
Deep in your bowels
Rendering detachment & disembodiment?
From which war & what battle
Do you think you're taking part of?
Which side & which force
Do you swear allegiance?
What little league team,
What playground do you call home?
What duel with duality,
What fight with nature!
It would be entertaining
If they had only stuck to playing in the mud.
Feb 10, 2025
Feb 10, 2025 at 1:29 PM UTC
Betting on plays
And whether teams could pull it through;
Factoring rates given to the risks
Versus stats, records, and rankings,
Of losses, successes, et cetera.
Whether physical or digital,
These playful monetary mediums
Like domestic feline & bengal tiger.
Like dog as like cat,
It's a different reaction to them
And connection with them
Having grown up around them.
These paper jaguars & plush lions,
So much for the fear of adversity
When you're trying to crunch everything.
If you're always in the middle
Of working through or thinking about something,
Punching an equation,
Then how can anyone hope
To knock you off kilter?
It's just another component-
Another addition & subtraction,
Division & multiplication,
To calculate & sum.
You've gotta be in it to win it,
And you're always just one bet away
From winning it big.
Making it good
Sometimes takes all it can take,
And even then you might not
Break even.
I sense disturbance,
See some malign figure,
In your line of reason.
Yet, through our conversations,
No appeal can be made to logic.
The calculations offer a grime visage.
Play with your heart, play with your gut,
As your head will steer you wrong.
If you're thinking about it,
You're thinking too much.
Just lay it on the line,
Bet it all,
But don't bet too much.
Listen, it'll be fine.
Tomorrow we can
Recoup your loss.
The contradictions are lost,
The irony was over
And you took the under.
The spread accomplished
Chose the given
And you were taking.
If something flew
You were beneath it.
Feb 10, 2025
Feb 10, 2025 at 1:04 PM UTC
Bite not the tongue,
But latch the cheek.
Lash not the mule,
But strike the ***
Ignore not the statistics,
But silence the opinions.
Waste not the seed,
But peel the onion.
Wantonly not dump,
But dispose of the garbage.
Carelessly not to jump,
But to gracefully land.
Rip them not off,
But open the lids.
Cause not interference,
But adjust your receivers.
Lose not the vision,
But get the picture.
Trade not for fidelity,
But increase your resolution.
Become not hidden,
But show the elusive.
Feb 10, 2025
Feb 10, 2025 at 12:18 PM UTC
To argue your perspective in a concise and eloquent manner in court.
Those who lob false accusations must continue to lie and try to tear down the truth.
Yet, the beauty of trails of paper and properly kept records, when the evidence is not against, but in favor of you:
Why harbor the heavy conscience?
When the burden of proof is truly no weight for you,
For the innocent bare no responsibly to prove that they are such and feel nothing but indignant for facing trumped-up allegations.
Who would not feel anger?
Rather, those who bring forth the issue must beyond a reasonable doubt prove the accused's culpability and convince others of their guilt resolute.
Especially in those cases of collectives versus individuals,
As in cases brought against or by the many state & federal apparatuses around the globe,
Or as in the cases of employer versus labor.
In natures both competitive & cooperative,
Romantic & platonic;
By many chandeliers & candelabra
Do we each tend to different flames,
But the fires burn the same.
In innumerable different ways,
The things we say are indistinguishable
Even if they are misinterpreted or mistaken.
The things we say are often the same,
But either wrongly said or poorly received.
How much is simply the cause
Of grave miscommunication?
Feb 10, 2025
Feb 10, 2025 at 11:56 AM UTC
Hostile & aggressive speech
On the behalf of any individual/party,
By any speaker.
That a man is presumed innocent
And with that he is given
The benefit of doubt,
The burden of evidence
Lies on the accuser.
But first the case
Must make it before the courtroom
And stand trial under judge and possibly jurors.
Wherein if things were perfect
And this were some utopia;
Honest & fair judicial proceedings
Without differentiatons or distinctions,
But a base which takes into ruling
Merit of the content of character
And possibility & potential.
Less rushing, greater depth of dialogue, and fitter tailored.
Asking, "What would I have done?"
Saying, "What should I do?"
Feb 9, 2025
Feb 9, 2025 at 8:24 AM UTC
They done killed the working man
And wrote an album about them,
Wiped out all them Cheddar heads-
Milk men's dead.
Somewhere a queen is weeping,
Somewhere a king has no wife;
Something called Neanderthalis
As another word for a human, a person.
These, members of my family as relatives,
Who are bonded to us in blood
Both in the veins of our hands
As much as they stain them.
But to that bond,
There is a responsibility to honor
And a duty to you entrusted.
That is,
The depth to it is much more than this
Lest you be the least of us.
In paying respect to those come before
And bringing up those now born,
In endeavoring to do more & be more.
Whatever facet, whatever role;
Be kind and civil,
Stand up to injustice.
Protect the weak
As an advocate made strong
By virtue & wisdom.
Turn on, tune in, turn up, awaken;
There is nothing wrong with your television set,
Have you checked the programming?
As timeless as infinity,
In the middle-ground between
Light and shadow -
Between science and superstition.
Through holes in canvases
Of freshly painted things,
Strange & otherworldly,
Aching to be discovered
And dying to be seen.
Feb 9, 2025
Feb 9, 2025 at 6:10 AM UTC
It's easy to talk like you know it,
To portray that you have good insight
And possess an informed perspective.
To pretend that you're knowledgeable,
Considerate, introspective.
At least, it sounded smart in your head.
Something was lost in translation
When it was finally written or said.
I assure you I really do care
And I can explain why I don't.
You must have misheard me
Or not have understood me,
I was the one speaking
So I think I'm the authority on the conversation.
Despite you having me dead to rights,
Clearly in quotes,
I demand for denial & the presumption of it
As I maintain my innocence.
That is fake news, misinformation,
And a misrepresentation of the situation.
Totally baseless claims & pure speculation.
Whatever lies at the root,
Regardless truth.
I'm sorry you feel that way but,
Despite any piece of evidence,
That's just your opinion.
These are politically scientific opiums,
These noxious feral serums
Poison the whole of living,
Whether local or national
As collective or individual.
Hostile & aggressive speech
On the behalf of any party/individual,
By any speaker.
Feb 9, 2025
Feb 9, 2025 at 2:24 AM UTC
It's a funhouse of smoke and mirrors,
Where the unnatural angles & fumes
Have clearly affected their proprietors.
It's an old-timey, ****** circus;
The performing artists are mismanaged
By ringleaders who may be animals.
It's a rigged boardwalk game;
The hoop's too small or pegs too thick,
Baskets too tight or ***** too corpulent.
You can hit it square on,
Swing the hammer with a force sufficient,
But the bell hasn't been ringing.
Grab a hotdog,
Order a slice,
Get your popcorn & crackerjacks,
Your cotton candy & cream iced.
That sugar is a rush,
Like laffy taffy freebased off of a fish which is Swedish.
Get in your distractions,
Cause I don't forsee you winning.
Feb 9, 2025
Feb 9, 2025 at 2:12 AM UTC
If neoliberalism urges caution
To our humanitarian approaches
But causes legislative bloat
And fosters lethargy,
Then neo-conservatism presses observance
To the safeguarding of our rights
But causes judicial confusion
And breeds separation.
Between us & I,
Between collective & individual.
So much joy amid the animosity,
So many cliques amid the niches.
Sadly concentrated & widespread-
What once was Orthodox is again
Within the eyes of most of man.
Such twists of countenances,
Such distortions of their own doctrines.
What scripture is not perverted?
What documents are not violated?
What laziness by the righteous
In eye of such cutthroat ruthlessness,
For the extent of the lack of justice
There is not nearly equal ire.
Get out & do something,
Stand up for what you believe in,
Lest you're unable.
Keep calm & carry on,
Be civil & observe decorum!
Keep calm & carry on,
Be dutiful & raise the standard!
There's barbarians on the border,
We're facing invasion
And enemies from within!
False citizens who lifted the gates;
Members of the house & senate,
District & magistrate.
The foreign threats grow,
We're completely surrounded
By enemies along our walls!
Backstabbing friends conspiring against us;
Those honored to be called partners & allies,
Apparatchik & Goldfasanen.
There's a war being waged
By the likes of values, beliefs-
Through our culture!
Capricious celebutantes with secret agendas;
Members of the paparazzi & cinema,
Big shot bankers & developers.
Every discussion is a battle,
For the extremists are everywhere,
By wealthy like terrorists!
Tyrannous minorities with their backdoor deals;
Those revered of the fraternal & esoteric,
Seedy elites & naive henchmen.
So much most repulsive, henious,
By perpetrators most traitorous.
Feb 8, 2025
Feb 8, 2025 at 4:59 PM UTC
welcome to the hollow cake
buttered by cream frosting
its no fun being the rat in wax
is it?
was the garnish good, at least?
we're here only moments
and they're being wasted every minute
just like all the opportunities
that have gone on by
there's still plenty game to be had
a plentiful lot in play
pennies for each of their fads
hair changes, and ripped stockings
handmade
but when the dye fades
your mascara runs
was it fun?
Jan 13, 2021
Jan 13, 2021 at 6:21 PM UTC
Considers protest at disrespect,
To be the sigil
Of a *****
In reality
He who chokes down ****
And smiles through it,
Is in actuality.
But what is it,
To remit?
Jun 15, 2023
Jun 15, 2023 at 2:55 PM UTC
I like ****** the most
When they're quiet and know their worth.
Them being the only ones
To sell themselves out;
Set the rate yourself.
It'd be a shame
Living on your back
For but paltry wealth.
Small penance too,
For fleeting looks and fading health.
Not a profession with a pension,
Not a career with a penchant for happiness;
But if fucking's your passion
It's shorter lived in-person than on camera.
May 15, 2024
May 15, 2024 at 12:21 PM UTC