asmita_chakraborty

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lt's all about the "maybe"s I sustain ��

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  • asmita_chakraborty 1h

    Vacaying

    The calender states nineteenth,a wednesday
    The clock tickles ten past eight
    Wind brushes against stony faces
    Of passengers in the local trains and buses.

    Smelling crowds and buzzing whistles
    Crying hawkers and dancing trinkets.
    There was a man, in rags
    Staggering down the path.

    Praying for help, to those in suits
    To those with books,to those cars,
    To those with food.
    Anguished his face looked.

    Oh now,oh now,so calm he looks
    The world of praise now stops to look,
    At sleeping man,arms still curbing his guts
    Now dwells in better place to life

    Humanity vacaying out somewhere
    Away from the racing crowds
    Where humans co-exist,
    Life, laugh and let live.

    ©asmita_chakraborty

  • asmita_chakraborty 1w

    Good night ��

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    My days were misprinted for so long
    Wondering if I could write somemore.
    Some more maybe! Some more!

    I hope to return to soon!
    Hope you all are doing well!

    ©asmita_chakraborty

  • asmita_chakraborty 20w

    Tis a long read ♡

    #free #wod #miraquil #writetsnetwork

    Not sure if I could still write something ♡

    @miraquill @writersnetwork

    @the_muted_voice I adore you ❤️

    I miss you all ��

    Read More

    I was laughing

    "I was laughing",
    All that I remember
    Was a voice, echoing, recurring,
    "I was laughing."

    I closed my eyes, to recollect
    A day in April, unforgettable
    Unforgivable, unfortunate.
    How do I place, that day?

    I was diping my sombre body
    In the starling sunrays.
    To offer myself ,with some warmth
    After tedious week's work.

    The beach was calm, pleasant
    But disturbingly absent.
    I was done with the third bottle of my juice
    I got up.

    A wriggling body approached,
    He was picking up stones,
    Or maybe shells, by the shore.
    But it was bottles and cans and plastic in his hand.

    He was smiling at me,
    I handed him my bottles,three.
    I asked, what's has he been doing.
    Shaken he answered, nothing.

    He filled the bottles and the cans
    With the flushing sea water,
    Curious, I asked again,
    What will you do with these.

    His face broke into pieces
    When he looked up
    He was smiling all ear to ear,
    "I'll make salt, and prepare my pumpkins."

    And now I looked at him, eagerly
    He was wretched, his still rimed specs
    Had fogs in it, so catching water too seemed difficult.
    I could count his blue veins.

    Those black eyes were filled with amusement.
    I asked, when did he last eat.
    "I was laughing, there was a chicken meal.."
    He went on repeating.

    His feets were naked, bruised
    Bandaged with the torn portion of his dirty shirt.
    I opened my purse to offer some money,
    "I was laughing, I had money..."

    I gave him some fruits,
    He was smiling,
    "I'll salt these fruits to eat with my pumpkin"
    He looked at me, "I was laughing like you.. I was laughing..."

    He continued telling,
    When I started to see,if I had something else to eat
    I stood up, and started running,
    Shouting, " I was laughing, I was laughing.."

    I didn't know what to do,
    What was right,and what was happening
    The realisations were mixed
    But I knew something,

    He was still laughing,
    As the life tickled him with misery.
    And No wounds no scars
    Could touch good memories.

    Life twists and turns,
    We live life, as it comes by
    Knowing not, if we'll laugh again
    Or is it, it.

    But We live, we laugh, we live.
    ©asmita_chakraborty

  • asmita_chakraborty 20w

    @love_whispererr @moon_bunny

    Before the August ends, I want to wish all the August-Prince and Princesses.

    HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY ��
    The year ahead may bring you joy and fullfill all your sweet dreams!

    (Sorry for being so late, take care ❤️)

    ©asmita_chakraborty

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    .

  • asmita_chakraborty 22w

    #autobiography of a wave (in an ocean) #wod #writers_block

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    I trembled unconscious,
    Measuring each quater-step I took,
    Trying tensions entangles my ribs,
    I tried making friends with the blues,
    That shines outwardly,
    And the world sees it's glow.
    I, who has travelled miles
    Is still afraid to die,
    Once again.
    As the grip fails,
    I'm just a subject
    Gravity dominates.
    I with a placid hope,
    Drown again.
    Knowing,
    I have to rise,
    Yet once again,
    Now,
    With another handful of
    Confidence.

    ©asmita_chakraborty

  • asmita_chakraborty 22w

    And in the end nothing's so turgid to be true.

    ©asmita_chakraborty

  • asmita_chakraborty 24w

    #viator #wod #temp
    Nothing but a vacant emotion.

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    I knew little
    About stars which smiled at me
    Their stares,timeless,it seemed.

    For the night glittered and
    I knew little
    About the moon which hid it's face
    With a cloud viel.

    The sky was filled
    Constellations floating and
    I knew little
    About what those actually mean.

    I shivered once and then twice,
    When I caught a glimpse of a star falling
    Just like my dreams? Just because..
    I knew little.

    ©asmita_chakraborty

  • asmita_chakraborty 25w

    ꜱᴘʀɪɴɢꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴘɪᴄᴇꜱ

    Stammering mouths uttered muffled verse
    Pronouncing the song with a different tinge.
    Storming nights soothed mighty men under warm fluffy blankets,
    Pulling out the last piece of peace from the men under a tree with a now-broken rib.

    Toned muscles ambling well under streamlined dresses.
    Flawless curves pouring out of the silver rimed belts attracts strait-laced faces.
    Big banners on high walls advertising peach-perfect faces
    The shimmers in the liquid-gold underground Earth's surface.

    Temples, mosques,churches decorated well
    Shrewd eyes watching carefully to observe how the man beside him, prayed.
    Howling peace-eaters roamed around with loud speakers
    Forlorn screams by a grieving soul silenced.

    Troubled mother bleeding, sustaining the labor for her golden son
    Who leads the tiers varnished with patriarchy.
    Treasured cruelty eradicating the living beings
    Drowns compassion in the sea of fidgety.
    For love was spiced with righteous haterid.

    All these things that the world sees
    Springs out more firmly from the aquifers of "human(deeds)ity".
    Pouring into the surface of the Earth with it's aprill-glee.
    Sprouts the fragrance of difference more vividly.


    For once Summer and rains were associates
    One helped to ripe,one filled the dried.
    For Roe and Nile were best of friends
    Their names written next to next.
    Unless human spiced the springs of this new generation with 'perfections' and 'differences'.

    ©asmita_chakraborty

    #spring #wod #writersnetwork #miraquill

    @writersnetwork

    @miraquill 2nd POD!! I'm on the seventh heaven!!Thank you so much.. I'm honoured..❤️
    Thanks to everyone ��
    I love you all!! *In sobs*

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    Springs and Spices

    ©asmita_chakraborty

  • asmita_chakraborty 26w

    #mondo #wod #writetsnetwork
    @writersnetwork Thank you so much for the repost ❤️ ily
    @miraquill Haappppppyyy biiirrtttthhhhdddaaayyyy ❤️
    High Five! *Celebrating* keep shining
    Why does this world in locked four walls seem worth while to live in?
    Because I'm a Mirakeen!
    (Nomatter what, Mirakee or Miraquill.. as Rani Shree di says it's always be a Miracle happening )

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    For oft do I see,
    The moon often veiled with clouds,
    Is she that shy?

    The moon adorned the sky at the darkest of times
    With mirth,with all her plight
    But her presence fades as the sun rise.
    For she measures her scars,
    Afraid she is to claim the lime sky,
    For she frightens to showcase her blemishes in the bright light.

    For oft do I see,
    The sun screaming,
    Does she need some more time?

    The sun embraced the sky
    With her warm awaiting gaze,
    And as each hour of the day passed away
    He moved away, making distant
    She in a try to please him more
    Shines to a degree more.

    For oft do I see,
    Dandelions sighing
    What is it for ?

    A mother dandelion sprouts to bloom
    Her delicate little offsprings
    She nurtures them affectionately.
    Showers all love she stored
    After recovering from past griefs
    But as the time advance, her wonderful kids leave, again forlorn she is.

    For oft do I see,
    Tides of mighty men sinking,
    When is there such a decease?

    Good men! Because of all that they have accumulated
    They sink! For their tungsten heart's never melt.
    In love! They perform everything desperately.
    They live! Untill death greats.
    They die! When hope pulverize.
    They are living only when humanity isn't a falacy.

    ©asmita_chakraborty

  • asmita_chakraborty 27w

    ������ �������� ���������� ������ �� ����������?

    I have been dancing on the rhythm that soothe,
    Printing epitaphs on my bleeding heart
    I have been embracing my perfections~flawed,
    Scribbling warm letters on cold rocks.

    ������������ �� ���������� ��������������? �������� �������� ���� ������������������?

    ���� ������������������ �������������� �������� ������ ��������?

    I borrowed a piece of the moon
    To wipe my tears last night.
    I got drunk in nepenthe
    Freeing my grey shaded blues.

    ��������'�� �� ����������? ���� �� ������ ������ ?

    ������ ���������������� ��������?

    My blooms wilted on being drenched in rain.
    My feathers withered to bask warm sunrays.
    Looking up every now and then,
    Mapping the now-clear-sky with interest.

    ���� ������ �� �������������� ��������������? ������������ ���� ���������������� ���� ���� �������������� ��������?

    ���� ���� �������� ���� �������� ������ ����������?

    My mirror reflected a portrait of a flushed face
    Stranger it seemed for the gleaming eyes,
    Weren't awaiting for a change.
    The frame stood on lacquer edges.

    �� ����������! ������'�� ���� ��������? ������'�� ���� ����������?

    �������� ���� ������ ������������ ���� ��������?

    I sowed little seeds just to see the blooming gardens before April.
    I hugged my greens knowing it would again grow lush in springs.
    I rubbed my coughing nose, to breath free.
    I woke up today, just to live.

    ������'�� ���� ���������� ��������-������������ ?

    ©asmita_chakraborty
    ___________________________________________________

    #question #wod #writersnetwork

    -I have changed some questions, keeping the meaning same.
    -I have answered the questions with questions itself.
    -As you go on, you might just answer yourself.

    -(All the questions and all the words)

    @writersnetwork @miraquill A read? ❤️

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    ©asmita_chakraborty