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  • anvaya 28w

    Dreams lie at the frontiers not in the tired old pasts.
    They dwell not in the shadows that memories have cast.
    Much as I know of this rule, its benefits galore
    Some nights meant a clandestine greeting behind closed doors.
    A meeting with the past, a guilty pleasure,
    Of cherishing moments I have treasured.
    Moments which once felt vibrant and true,
    Now left fading, fading from hue.
    So I paint them back, paint the old new,
    Paint them from perspectives which I once never knew.
    I Laugh at fear knowing I survived,
    Feel wistful at mundanity I now can't revive,
    Cry over times I spent in glee, carefree
    Caress old bonds with friends and family.
    Mementos of memories lying in an unused nook
    Until one day, rediscovered and given a look,
    Remain ever so sweet, linger with lustre of joy
    Until time rusts it bitter into a nostalgic alloy.
    Eyes moist I wish I could live the past again,
    But I see new buds still blossom and then
    Spring up to seize this fresh, new dawn,
    Knowing one day this too would be gone.
    ©anvaya

    This poem is dedicated to my grandfather who requested me to attempt this theme. He also wrote the first line: "Dreams lie at the frontiers not in the tired old pasts."

    "A clandestine greeting behind closed doors." This line is credited to @lovenotes_from_carolyn and has been used as a part of the #cees_greet_chall

    "Mementos of memories lying in an unused nook
    Until one day, rediscovered and given a look,
    Remain ever so sweet, linger with lustre of joy
    Until time rusts it bitter into a nostalgic alloy." These 4 lines are recycled from an earlier poem of mine.

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    Dreams lie at the frontiers not in the tired old pasts.
    They dwell not in the shadows that memories have cast.
    ©anvaya

  • anvaya 30w

    #Hobbies

    I had been on a break from mirakee for a while now due to being engrossed in studies, and I'm sorry for vanishing without notice. During my absence, I received a lot of comments from lovely people encouraging me to write, and I can't express how grateful I am to their support. Thanks so much @zeee_zephyrs @asmita_chakraborty @galvanizedthoughts @soulfulstirrings @lovenotes_from_carolyn and @morsel

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    Is It Worth It?

    Is it worth it to sing, for just the wind to hear
    Or dance to a rhythm playing just in your ear?
    Is it worth making bouquets that wilt in a day,
    Or sketching a landscape but not for display?
    Is it worth gazing stars or listening to birds,
    Or trying to rhyme a bunch of words?
    Perfecting a dish when there is no need,
    Or writing a story for no one to read?
    Is it worth doing anything for no one to see?
    For no one to acknowledge, not necessary?
    A little voice in my head would occasionally ask,
    "Is it really worth it if it's not a task?"

    "Is it really worth it?"
    Is a recurring thought.
    But for once, just ask yourself
    "Is it really not?"
    ©anvaya

  • anvaya 40w

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  • anvaya 40w

    I am 16,and well, I realized my version of being 16 is pretty different from Liesl's .


    Parody of Sound of Music's "You are Sixteen, Going on Seventeen" original lyrics written by: Oscar Hammerstein Ii / Richard Rodgers

    #students #exam #exams #school #neet #jee

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    You are Sixteen, Going on Seventeen Parody

    You wait, little girl, on an empty stage
    For fate to turn the light on
    Exams, little girl, are an empty page
    That you will have to write on

    To write on

    You are sixteen going on seventeen
    Baby, it's time to think
    Which stream to choose, and which books to use
    Baby, you´re on the brink

    You are sixteen going on seventeen
    Exams will fall in line
    JEE, NEET will make you compete
    And trouble your intestine

    Totally unprepared are you
    To face what's in store next
    Timid and shy and scared are you
    Of things beyond your text

    You need someone older and wiser
    Telling you what to do
    I'm in college, have the knowledge
    Follow me on YouTube

    I am sixteen going on seventeen
    I know that I'm naive
    People I meet, tell I'll clear NEET
    And willingly I believe

    I am sixteen going on seventeen
    Innocent as a rose
    Calculus, function; hybridization
    What do I know of those

    Totally unprepared am I
    To face what's in store next
    Timid and shy and scared am I
    Of things beyond my text

    I need someone older and wiser
    Telling me what to do
    You're in college, have the knowledge
    I'll depend on you
    ©anvaya

  • anvaya 40w

    This is a comment I came across under my previous post written by the maestro of words @theinkdomain

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    Creativity at it's peak with a bouquet of imagination and the stalks hanging down chains of vibrant notions
    ©theinkdomain

  • anvaya 40w

    Inside An Anthill

    Hey ho, Off we go
    We March ahead in line,
    We are programmed to explore the land
    And leave a trail behind.
    (Forager ants)

    Hey ho, Off we go
    We're workers marching all day,
    We exchange signs to find food to dine
    And feed our young larvae.
    (Worker ants, usually older)

    Hey ho, Off we go
    To the queen we pledge loyalty,
    Beware insects, who'd dare to infest
    Our territory!
    (Worker ants, usually older)

    Hey ho, Off we go
    Ploughing the earth's our drill
    We build the mound, the underground
    Construct our huge anthill.
    (Worker ants, usually younger)

    Hey ho, Off we go
    We serve the young and queen
    We keep them warm, away from harm,
    Stack food, clear and clean.
    (Worker ants, usually younger)

    Hey ho, Off we go
    We take to the seamless sky
    We were raised to propagate the race
    Mate with the queen and die.
    (Male ants)

    Hey ho, Off we go
    We do what we're prescribed,
    It's nature's law that we follow,
    For the glory of our tribe!
    ©anvaya



    First of all, Thanks a lot @galvanizedthoughts @zeee_zephyrs @asmita_chakraborty and @ayanaa for pushing me to write. I was having a great writersblock and it's so kind and thoughtful of you to check in on me and encourage me to resume. Thanks!��


    Also, a note to the readers: this poem ain't entirely fiction. I was researching a lot about the ant colony since and what I tried to portray above are things they actually do (varies with species)! I've elaborated the points mentioned in the poem down below, so check em out!


    Ant colonies have a complex hierarchical social structure. Ants’ jobs are determined and can be changed by age. As ants grow older their jobs move them farther from the queen, or center of the colony. Younger ants work within the nest protecting the queen and young. Sometimes, a queen is not present and is replaced by egg-laying workers. These worker ants can only lay haploid eggs producing sterile offspring. Despite the title of queen, she doesn't delegate the tasks to the worker ants; however, the ants choose their tasks based on personal preference. Ants as a colony also work as a collective "super mind". Ants can compare areas and solve complex problems by using information gained by each member of the colony to find the best nesting site or to find food. Some social-parasitic species of ants, known as the slave-making ant, raid and steal larvae from neighboring colonies.
    ~Wikipedia

    Other cool facts I found while reading
    ⭕The underground of an anthill can be 2 metres deep, that's taller than most humans!
    ⭕Male ants are haploid and are given less food and nourishment. Their sole job is reproduction. During which they usually die. If alive, the colony starves the ant as they believe it is a waste of resources to feed it since it has fulfilled it's purpose and actually leave it to die! Nature is harsh!
    ⭕Female worker ants are sterile and when young they perform jobs inside the anthill and as they grow older (and their mandible gets stronger in some cases) they go outside of the anthill to collect food.
    ⭕Forager ants make up about 10% of the colony. They are stronger and are the first to explore new areas leaving a trail behind for the worker ants to follow.

    #wnr_anv #pod #ants
    Thank you so much for your time and generous appreciation @writersnetwork Your encouragement means a lot to me.

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    Inside An Anthill

    Hey ho, Off we go
    We do what we're prescribed,
    It's nature's law that we follow,
    For the glory of our tribe
    ©anvaya

  • anvaya 43w

    Not my typical style or content. I was just being harsh here. But this is my take on #beauty so far and I just wanted to vent. Probably a #temp

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    Beauty

    Yes this is a rant and no it's not from the poet in me who tries to see the ethereal side of the world, but from the part of me which faces the reality of this world.

    Beauty. It exists. It exists in the models strutting on the runway and in those who make it to the front page of the magazine. To say external beauty is irrelevant and that it doesn't matter would be invalidating the lives of plenty working in the beauty industry and ignoring the way nature works. Morphological advantages do matter, not just to homo sapiens but to many in the animal kingdom. Looking for external beauty comes with a part of being human and it isn't shallow, it's instinctive.

    Does beauty lie in the eyes of the beholder? Well, considering how the majority of beholders see beauty in the same thing, how far can we rely on this saying? On the other extreme, scientists who have strenuously identified faces with the perfect golden ratio symmetry still fall short to pleasing many eyes which see beauty in a bit of asymmetry. I would like to think of beauty as being 70% objective and 30% subjective.

    The trick here is defining objective beauty. Here is where despite how I have removed my rose-tinted glasses while writing this, I still have to admit, objective beauty has no rules. Beauty is abstract. Intangible. It cannot be measured by a scale or measuring tape. Humans in their attempt in finding patterns try to set up beauty standards to explain what beauty is and what it isn't. But I can boldly say, classifying beauty cannot be done like classifying the elements of the periodic table. What we have been doing so far, is identifying someone beautiful, measuring them from head to foot and resolving "Well, if this person, whom many see as beautiful is of this length, breadth, colour and texture, if I find another like this, they should be as beautiful. And anyone outside of this configuration, cannot be called pretty."
    Boy, did they fail in this attempt! Yes, indeed.

    Beauty is not rational. Beauty is not calculative. Beauty is not scientific, it cannot be defined. No matter how hard we try to set up beauty standards (and we will, out of our instinctive need to define things around us) beauty will always continue to stretch beyond anything and everything we confine it to be.
    The closest I can come to the definition of beauty is "When you see it, you know it's there."
    ©anvaya

  • anvaya 44w

    #clothing
    The background is of my blanket and the post is of exactly what I do with it. ��
    P.S. I'm not back yet. Just couldn't resist this challenge.

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  • anvaya 46w

    #bflowerc #chrysanthemum #chastushka lol does this count?
    Coincidentally this is my 250th post. Yay!
    Also the chrysanthemum in this post represents the Chinese symbolism of grief and lamentation.

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  • anvaya 46w

    #motivationc #offlineexam #exam #motivation #student #exams

    Dedicated to all those in mirakee writing their final exams.

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