Miraquill
Sometimes
"Sometimes I am ungrateful, other times I am just grumpy. "
©anandita_1812
anandita_1812
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आज फिर
"सोचती हूँ थोड़ा ठहर जाऊँ, थोड़ा संभल जाऊँ,
जख्मों को सिल कर थोड़ा और आगे बढ़ जाऊँ "
©anandita_1812 -
क्या खूब कहा है
"किसी ने क्या खूब कहा है कि जब दिल दुखेगा ना, तब बात मन से निकलेगी"
©anandita_1812 -
Selfless act
Become selfless even if people are selfish to you.
©anandita_1812 -
Out of Option
"You're not out of option, you're just not looking at the right direction"
©anandita_1812 -
यूँ जताया न करो
"यूँ जताया न करो कि माफ किया मुझे, तुम्हारा मुझको यूँ जता के जलील करना जान ले लिया करता है मेरी"
©anandita_1812 -
दूरियाँ
"दूरियाँ बनानी ज़रूरी हो गयी थी, लोग कुछ ज्यादा ही करीब आने लगे थे "
©anandita_1812 -
कुछ शांत सी मैं
"कुछ शांत सी हो गयी हूँ मैं,
लगता है कुछ अरमानों का गला घोटा गया हो "
©anandita_1812 -
So it is decided
"The moment you're born, your fate is already decided by your family."
©anandita_1812 -
डर लगता है
"डर लगता है तुम्हें खोने से भी, डर लगता है कि कहीं हमारा रिश्ता कोई गलतफहमी का शिकार ना हो जाए"
©anandita_1812
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_minnaa_
16w
Read More#lifecycle#wod
@miraquill @writersnetwork
This may or may not make sense. But I had to take it out of my system.
Thank you so much for the EC!❤️ @miraquillA Rant!
11/03/'22 10.30pm
A fight between me and my mother actually prompted me to jot down my thoughts. Yesterday, when I was being celebrated for my existence, the person who happily evicted me from her womb, was talking about death. And I found it to be very poetic. My mother is an emotional person, she was having her weak moment but being a writer deep down, her words pierced through my heart. I was very upset about what she said to me, because that's something I would never ever wish to hear from her again. I tried to understand her pain, but realised her agony is bigger than the happiness that would have otherwise captured her proud motherly heart.
In my writings, I have often talked and wrote my thoughts on life and death in different ways and shades. It is the reality of the world. There is no running away or hiding from it. We could glorify or demean it. But it with us always.Maybe Shakespeare's monologue from As You Like It, " The Seven Stages of Man" might bring sense to some. Or the Ashrama system - Brahmacharya, Grihastha, Vanaprastha and Sanyasa; would throw light on the the cycle of life theme. It depends from person to person as to how they understand and react to it. As writers, we could agree, criticize or be ignorant about it. But somewhere deep down, I feel that whatever I write is directly or indirectly connected to life and death.
This is not a poem or a prose, but I am taking out my helpless rants and cluster of thoughts and connecting it with the prompt.
©_minnaa_ -
_minnaa_
17w
Read More
#pen #wod
@miraquill @writersnetwork
After having read so many incredible write-ups on this topic, I couldn't resist myself from writing.
Might delete it later.A Fading Pen's Autobiography
After what may seem like ages, today I am daring to step outside of my self-imposed exile. I have been wounded, bled words and tears at the wars of poetry slam, essay writing, debates etc etc as far as I could recollect. I have struggled to meet with my master's expectations of me. I was a treasured gift to her, and with time our relationship tainted like with every other being.
I wouldn't blame her, she had showed her trust in me, but I have failed her at crucial junctures of writing and decision making.
Even while life was giving her tough examinations, I was merely an on-looker not knowing how to be her aide.
Together, we have written masterpieces. There used to be a time when I could read her mind and heart at the same time. I could feel her emotions, sense her turmoils and bring solace to her waging wars with her troubled self. Her poetry have saved a few, revolutionised many, inspired a lot of people who were scared to lift my friends up. I have seen papers of all sorts, for a lot of them have been faithful companions in my journey so far with her. Over the years, we have seen so many ups and downs together. I am aged now, fading away and any time, death would embrace me. I had gone into solitude, like I said in the beginning to a self-imposed exile... So that death might be little easy on me. Before that happens, I wanted to write this one last time, just to live like in my memory. I want to thank and say sorry to her, my master - a lady of iron will. I know she would be saddened to see me dying. I want her to know that this is how the world works. We live, and we die. That's the order of the nature. I don't want her to hold onto me. It is very difficult to say goodbye to her, but I know it would be for the good. I will always pray and wish that she create wonders that may inspire future generations to aptly understand our value and what we were before technology took us over and completely changed the nature of things. I am grateful to all those writers who never gave up on us, despite having multiple benefits with other mediums. I am only sharing love and memories. But my pain is not dying easily. Every drop of ink that came out of me are now like a tear thats welled up into an ocean. My life is never easy, but I wouldn't complain, for I serve as long as I live.
Farewell to you all,
From a mighty companion.
©_minnaa_ -
The moon looks beautiful.
Sun hides behind the clouds.
Moon in phases.
The dark side, the untouched bright.
I stand under the clouds which blur the light.
'the moon looks beautiful'
I confess to my beloved using moon's glitter,
I hide like phases under the shimmery sun.
While sun burns like auburn,
Moon careresses it's scars like one-up.
Still, I hesitate. Looking at the moon
I wish to rotate like sun.
I hope to meet the night at the twilight.
Yet sun, never meets the facade to aid my soul.
The blood moon rises and makes me known.
I confess, I'm drowning in the scars of the moon,
the one's I've always known.
©shadowofthoughts_ -
officialhimanshu
23w
Read MoreJagmagaa Rahe Hain Jo Andhere
Ujaalon Ko Kaun Puchhegaa
- Himanshu Shrivastavaजगमगा रहे हैं जो अंधेरे
उजालों को कौन पूछेगा
- हिमांशु श्रीवास्तव -
_minnaa_
23w
Read More
#wod#strange#miraquill#dream#writersnetwork
@miraquill @writersnetwork
I used to believe that being absent - minded is a grave sin. Or atleast, that's how it was portrayed to me. I would call myself a dreamer, so you would have guessed by now the connection with the first line. A few days ago, I had a dream. And I want to tell you about it.
I was sitting in my room, trying to figure out the weirdness going on around with me. The air was tense and bizzare. The blue sky was fading into a tangerine one. There was some kind of a mellow light.I came near my window to take a closer look. I saw a shooting star gracefully descending the sky. (Probably, like the emoji that we use?) At the sight of it, I closed my eyes to make my wishes. Barely after what may have seemed like a minute, the sky was suddenly dark, pitch black. Everything went hazy for the time. I had to wipe my spectacles to see the view. The star had exploded. The black sky is enveloped with dusts of blue,pink,yellow, green and red. You would have guessed it by now, yes! A supernova. The luminosity of it had blinded me for time. This was the vivid image I could grasp. And the next thing I remember after this sequence is I am running towards my Professor's cabin to narrate it. From her expressions, I realised with a heavy heart that she wasn't believing one word of what I saw. Dejected, I walked out of her chamber, only with the thought of writing about this to the world. I started penning down my dream, and that's when I woke up from sleep.
I still don't understand why or how about this dream. Whether it has some connection with me or not, only time will tell. The Professor who didn't back me in the dream sequence, is actually my backbone and a pillar of support. I thought about her too. It it all had happened for real, she would be the first one to tell it to the world.
It feels so good after sharing this dream. If you have any sort of interpretation of this dream, do let me know. Okay?A Strange Dream
©_minnaa_
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The splurge of emotions
spilled tears of torment.
Decaying memory of a flummox
recrudesced without a warning.
The deluge of information
ransacked the leftover beliefs.
Brittle heart valiantly fought
for a piece of peace,
yet psyche drowned into
the ocean of consternation.
This on-going battle may not
get its fairy tale ending,
but one thing is for sure
we'd remain the same, forever.
©_minnaa_ -
_minnaa_
29w
Read More
#archiac#wod#pod
@miraquill @writersnetwork @writernetwark
Words used apart from caliginous are Mooncalf (a foolish person) and Fandangle (a useless or ornamental thing).Conundrum
The mooncalf's mind was
caliginous with desperation.
Everywhere everyone mocked him,
tagged as the country dimwit.
Life became difficult,
His ideas were deemed fandangle,
nobody cared or believed.
He swallowed it as a fact,
never questioned their accusations.
But he always had a smile,
which they all failed to notice.
A smile that essays multiple emotions,
yet he never complained.
I wonder, with all my heart,
what's the reason
behind such a fervent beam?
©_minnaa_ -
_minnaa_
46w
Read More
#wod #start #miraquill #writersnetwork
@miraquill @writersnetwork I know you'd not read, still going with the flow.
@writersnetwark
* Prompt used - I can travel on the paper*Inked...
I can travel on the paper,
and go unnoticed
for days, months and years.
The ink that penetrated
deep into my quintessence
would remain vivid in my conscience.
The words may or may not
garner his attention,
but scent of tears
and blood would exude into his soul.
The darkness of his actions
maybe overlooked,
but how can he escape
destiny's action plan?
I can travel on the paper,
and still go unnoticed.
©_minnaa_ -
My poetry
My anxiety sits in a corner,
where it's surrounded by
the cherry blossom of my poetry.
The scent of its turmoils
gets wrapped up
in my sagacity.
The audacity of perturbation
is beyond the limits sometime.
Yet, my words would find
a way to strike chords with normalcy.
Often my lines wouldn't
make sense to a crowd,
but it satiates my trepidation.
I write to fill the crevices
of my soul and
ward off consternations.
©_minnaa_ -
_minnaa_
46w
Read More
#love #wod #saranghae #miraquill #writersnetwork
@miraquill @writersnetwork
* I hope this makes sense. I think I have used all the suggested words.Saranghae
Love had knocked at my door,
on a twilight night.
I was drowned in
coffee's aroma, while
poetry was seeking asylum in
the shores of my heart.
The waves of his fragrant memories
soothed my vociferous soul.
The dried pink rose evoked
my dead love's requiem.
The gentle lavender wind,
reminded me of his deep mystical eyes,
tears tripped down my face,
causing a deluge of emotions.
©_minnaa_
