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Stalwart Dull Apr 2023
How lucky I feel to live for real,
melancholia that is hard to reveal
imagine.scribble. gives me chill
Live in austerity, an innocuous thrill

How lovely I feel to have this pen in my hand
you wanna look inside of me, and watch me write?
See it in a different point of view
Cause you only got one side of me, and nothin's new

Shocking to feel a positive charge
Unusual sensation in my heart
you wanna look inside of me, and watch me write?
Don't be surprised with a big invisible spark.
Ashwin Kumar Jul 2022
Who gave you the idea
That love is all about romance?
Love can be towards anybody
In this massive planet
Whether it be your parents
Or grandparents
Or siblings
Or cousins and relatives
Or even friends
And apart from these people
Love can exist in other forms too
Helping an elderly gentleman or lady
Cross a busy road full of speeding vehicles?
That's love
Running a langar to feed the poor and needy?
That's love
Running an NGO to treat cancer patients
As well as rehabilitate them after treatment
And engage them in useful work?
That's love
Cancelling your job interview
To take a victim of a road accident to the hospital?
That's love
Dropping your colleague off at his/her home after work?
That's love
Standing up to a bully who is picking on a few kids?
That's love
Feeding chapattis and biscuits to a few cats on the street?
That's love
Again, who gave you the idea
That love is all about romance?
Self-explanatory!!
Sayuri143 Feb 2021
It doesn't matter,
whether you're weak or stronger.
If you're a mother
your self no longer matter.
Even if you're wounded & broken,
you can't surrender.
You have to get up,
for your dearest son & daughter.
Salute to all the mothers, who despite being shattered in many aspects of life, have kept their focus on their only goal. That is to love, care and protect their children at all costs.
Bina Mukherjee Jul 2020
To my teacher Mom
To my savior Mom
To my kind Mom
To my trouble shooter Mom
To my simple Mom
To my generous Mom
Wish I were like you Mom!!

To the Mom who has been judged for living a simple life.
To the Mom who never tried to hurt anyone because she knew how it feels like.

To the Mom who thinks herself to be a superwoman and filled our plates with almost all the food from the dishes she had,
Keeping a little, what she called a balanced diet.

To the Mom who has the innate ability to filter out the demeaning words and rather enjoyed what she cherishes.

To the Mom who still believes "Silence is Golden"
And did her job religiously with love whatever be the condition.

But....
I couldn't be like you Mom and been a little outspoken as I have seen your helplessness for long....
And now.....
.......
I wish you were a bit like me Mom!!


Bina Mukherjee
The Flipped Word Jun 2015
The thirsty cracked grounds
Piling up of starved mounds
All yearned, their tongues out
For the taste of rain, thunderous sound

The flowers drooped sadly before this
The green grass turned yellow and crisp
All their colours were fading away
Before you drenched them with torrential rain

So beautiful how the clouds meet
with the faraway earth, watery greet
So self-sacrificing how the skies cry
To satiate their lover, the lands dry

Thus this reunion happens once more
Each other's soul these lovers restore
But are joined together only to be torn apart
Poor cursed lovers, they're nature's art

Ah what selfless love is this!
The skies die to give the lands a kiss
And though they mayn't be together anymore
Their aromas lay intertwined; petrichor
Petrichor (/ˈpɛtrɨkɔər/) is the earthy scent produced when rain falls on dry soil
Mr Incognito Dec 2014
She was crying.
So he approached
to lessen the anguish,
her life has notched

He exchanged her tears
with his cozy smile;
to calm down her nerves
at least for a while.

The language of tears
has always appealed him;
as to the insects,
the sundew's gleam.

Innate was this nature of his
to weep for the poor,
for the women, for the children
and for the downtrodden, to be sure.

But with hollow chauvinism
then, the men ruled the society.
And accounted weeping as a sin
resulting from inferiority.

They disliked the boy
and his uncommon ways
to heal the sufferer,
to their utter dismay.

They called the boy
and asked him to change
his beliefs and ideology
or to be ready to estrange.

The boy couldn't understand
how his actions have been
outrageous in their view
and thus sentenced as a sin.

He stood against them
and let the proposal decline.
He advocated his logic
to those ****** swine.

But their ears were concealed
to even the rumbling thunder.
Intoxicated by masculinity
they committed blunder.

The men enraged
and reached for their knives.
They shouted, they cursed
and skinned him alive.
This was the tale of a boy who was said to possess magical tears - the tears which would lessen the agony of other people. He found pleasure in eliminating pain and grief from others' life but the so called males became intolerant towards his behavior and later murdered him for the same

— The End —