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  • kashyapraj3010 1d

    "Our Intentions, Our Reality"
    Final Chapter -

    Botchling: The Conclusion…
    - By Raj Kashyap

    A bad soul is always get,
    Trapped in its own bad apple,
    Each morning a shock to return,
    To the cut soul.

    Well Roses are dead,
    Woefully, the Violets are dead too,
    A day will come for sure when,
    Even the dead will tell stories too.

    We make our own monsters,
    Then fear them for what they,
    Show us about ourselves.

    Epinephrine circulating my bloodstream,
    Like my heart will burst up pumping,
    Increased breathing, throat parched,
    Abruptly, wetting up my lingerie.

    I pinched myself thinking of a nightmare,
    The entire heaven covered with gore,
    That cold ain’t a weather, but the
    Death nudging me; my father added.

    “iiffffff you loveeee themmm….
    They’ll loveee you toooo…
    The wayyyyyy you seeee themmm,
    The wayyyyy they seeeee youuuu!!!!!

    I perceived one’s humming around,
    It’s a high pitched soprano voice,
    Possibly, a female voice singing,
    Melodies of the twilight.

    I glanced back, felt a gust of breeze,
    The 3 enduring graves were sealed too.
    Vilely, the graves singing the melody,
    Gore oozing from those 2 untold graves.

    Clouds roaring, drizzling then started,
    I opt to unveil the secret for then,
    My breasts completely drenched in rain,
    I decided to shovel up the sepulchers.

    I find eye balls after shoveling the first,
    Green melanin in its iris, tinged with gore,
    Spheroid in shape, all loosing hope,
    Red veins making a lattice around it.

    I wondered a piece of fabric in second,
    Same as my father scrubbing his face with,
    Tinged with blood, Mitera teal blue in color,
    Very likely of a lady, young in age.

    I then found a scrap of ephemera in third,
    Titled as “Botchling to Luberkin”.
    Undersign as Chloe. Those scrap stifles,
    Figures about turning botchling to luberkin.

    Petrified, shoveled a skeleton in fourth,
    Of a lady, Dressed like a newly-wed,
    Tiring shiny anklets, long earrings,
    Bloody red bangles tinged with blood.

    Discovered a scrap of meat in fifth,
    Misfortune in the sixth, may be the
    Botchling rose at the ephemera,
    I perceived at the third sepulcher.

    “Dear lord!!!! The lord of air & water,
    The lord of birth & death!!!!! I request you
    To give this botchling, a chance of survival”…
    I prayed; acc. to the words in ephemera…

    Stunningly, ray of hope materialize,
    A bright light shines into my vision,
    A soul of a newborn luberkin transpire from,
    The grave & enjoins me to go after her.

    Our voyage, then keeps sliding like a curve,
    I then arrived at an old premise, old tacky,
    Covered with lattice, woods turned black,
    I then saw an outline in the outskirts there.

    I felt gust of warm breeze desperate to whisper,
    I’m Chloe; this luberkin could be my child,
    If she’s alive; the outline added gently.
    I was one, killing people eyes with vengeance.

    I petrify; though asked why? She replied,
    I use to dance for sake of some money,
    An orphan, but definitely not a whore!!!
    Men went crazy about my body & dance.

    People, always stare at me lustfully,
    Your dad use to visit me daily,
    We both fell for each other in love,
    I was going to be a mother soon.

    Once twilight; few started teasing me,
    Fully drunk, it was the janitor & the guru,
    Started showing their colors, violating me,
    I cried; wept for aid, I screamed!!!!!
    A lady saw me; instead of helping, ran away.

    Your dad then dropped in; love of my life,
    But fate had turned the tables upside down,
    Instead of helping; they all raped & ended my life.

    They burnt my premise;
    Killed my innocent child;
    From this, I decided to rip off
    The eyes of everyone whose
    Responsible for my this state.

    “The way you seek this world,
    The same way this world seek you”…
    - By Raj Kashyap

    Our Intentions, Our Reality

    The End!!!!

    #WritersNetwork #Poetry #Horrorpoem #Society
    #Life

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    Botchling : The Conclusion

    ©kashyapraj3010

  • kashyapraj3010 3d

    My Nation, My Honor...
    - By Raj Kashyap

    India, the land of diversity,
    India, The land of spices,
    Where the cows are sacred,
    And the royal Bengal tiger is the
    Ideogram of bravery & strength.

    India, the land of the Taj Mahal,
    A symbol of love and serene.
    India, the land of languages,
    This helps us in making,
    Relationships more stronger.

    India, the land of festivals,
    The kumbh Mela is visible from space.
    India, the land of religions,
    This helps in creating ethical,
    Framework/adding values to one’s life.

    India, the land of natural herbs,
    The inventor of Ayurveda & Yoga.
    India, the land of statue of unity,
    The tallest statue in the world.

    India, the land of the chess,
    The inventor of “Snakes & Ladder” game.
    India, the land of the Kohinoor,
    The first country to mine diamonds.

    India, the inventor of number system,
    Aryabhata gave the world, the digit 0.
    India, the land of the education,
    Takshashila, world’s first university.

    India, the land of medical facilities,
    Cataract surgery was first done in India.
    Indians were pioneers in plastic surgery too.
    India, the land of civilizations,
    The oldest ancient “Indus valley” civilization.

    India, the best wonderers of space,
    Thus reached mars in its first attempt.
    India, the biggest land of democracy.
    India, the birth place of sugar.

    India, the land of post offices,
    It is home to a floating post office too.
    India, the wettest inhabited place of world,
    India, the powerhouse of railways.

    India, the land of vegetarians,
    The world’s largest producer of milk.
    “A nation’s culture resides in the hearts,
    And in the soul of its people”.

    “My India, My proud”.
    Jai Hind...

    #Republicday #26Jan #India #Jaihind #Jaibharat
    #Writersnetwork

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    My Nation, My Honor...

    ©kashyapraj3010

  • kashyapraj3010 5d

    Dear lady, you aren’t a whore,
    But the proud of your parents.
    Dear lady, wear clothes of your choice,
    Well you’re grown up, one mentality isn’t.

    Dear lady, periods aren’t your weakness,
    As fortune always favors the brave.
    Dear lady, if you’re out with a guy,
    Doesn’t makes you characterless,
    Draupadi & lord Krishna, are too friends.

    Dear lady, 25 isn’t an ideal martial age,
    As life doesn’t gave a second chance to none,
    Dear lady, you aren’t a burden or liability,
    But a pretty gift of responsibility.

    Dear lady, don’t be kind & nice to everyone,
    If its dawn, doesn’t mean you to seek home.
    Dear lady, you’re efficient of traveling alone,
    Moving alone doesn’t make you an open vault.

    Dear lady, you’ll be criticized for your body too,
    But your body makes you unique & beautiful too.
    Dear lady, it’s ok if your bra strap is visible,
    It’s not a state secret, but a fine piece of clothing.

    Dear lady, be aware of that unwanted touch,
    B/c an evil eye is staring & stalking you too.
    Dear lady, you are an angelic pure soul,
    Keep working hard, as time waits for none.

    - By Raj Kashyap..

    #Writersnetwork #Feminism #Society #Gender

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    Dear Lady

    ©kashyapraj3010

  • kashyapraj3010 1w

    Our Intentions, Our Reality !!!

    Chapter 4 -

    The Bloody Nightmare!!!!
    - By Raj Kashyap..

    Death is not scary;
    It’s where we’ll end up,
    That is…

    Ever heard of vampires?
    Gulping gore from one’s cervix,
    Ripping viscera, seizing vision,
    Be Afraid; be very Afraid!!!!

    When there’s no room available,
    In the Hell, the dead will,
    Walk the earth!!!

    Abruptly, I felt wintry,
    Quivery aroused rubbing my peeper,
    By recalling the anomaly knocks on door,
    And my father mewling for help.

    Appallingly, I sensed a round thing,
    On my breasts, it was an eye ball,
    There was manifold eyeballs gloss over,
    With red water, from high to low.

    It wasn’t mine premise; unluckily,
    But an atrocious place, spiders roving,
    Hyenas cackling, sludge around heaven,
    A bit jovial, tree vines making hammock.

    I panicked!! Clammy from head to toe,
    Adrenaline flooding my entire body,
    Heartbeat quickens, hopes dull.

    Abruptly, the dust & leaves starts revolt,
    All of a sudden, a tragedy ensued,
    The revolting leaves expelled the,
    Names of janitor, the lady, the guru,
    In my lughole swiftly.

    My voyage keeps sliding like a curve,
    While strolling, I reached a forest,
    Resembling like the one near my realm,
    The warm breeze still haunting me.

    The light fades as I enter the forest,
    Turning into a strange dark place,
    Trees staring at me like silent sentries,
    I crept around the poisonous wolfsbane.

    The black cat lurking in the grass,
    Owl singing melodies, a hair rising place.
    Then I witness an outline in the mist,
    It was the heritage of that Guru.

    I discover a white fabric lying,
    Probably, a scrap of a nymph’s dress,
    Tinged with gore, ahead of the,
    Guru’s cottage.

    Then, I keep progressing in hunt,
    Of my father, thinking of the fabric,
    I felt the gust of warm breeze again,
    Suddenly!!! I heard a screammmm!!!

    Without retrospect, I ran too hard,
    Terrified, as my heart would burst beating,
    All of a sudden, I stumbled upon,
    Something and fell brutally.

    It was the beacon of the janitor,
    Tinged with blood, glass broken,
    First eyeballs, then the fabric,
    Now the beacon!!!!!!!!!
    What’s happening…..

    Then the breeze leads me to God’s acre,
    A place where, even the dead talks,
    The collapsing tombstones & monuments,
    The smell of mown lawns & flowers,
    Seemingly, my throat dried up.

    There were 5 graves in a row,
    3 filled with misfortune, 2 vacant,
    Those 3 having the identity of the,
    Janitor, the lady, and the Guru.

    I saw an outline digging up the 6th grave,
    Surprisingly, name of my father engraved on it,
    I trailed the outline with courage,
    It ceased after a while, scrubbing,
    Its face with something; a fabric.

    The fabric was indeed a saree of a lady,
    Tinged with blood; the outline then,
    Started abrading the panel nearby,
    Crying with severe pain fully injured.

    I hit that outline with a pebble,
    From behind, then it glanced back,
    He was my father, having dark misfortune,
    Only in the place of eyes.

    He then added with thunder,
    “Death has come to your little town,
    Darlingggg!!!!!! “

    “Our intentions, Our Reality”
    TO BE CONTINUED…

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    The Bloody Nightmare !!

    ©kashyapraj3010

  • kashyapraj3010 2w

    A cursed soul never leaves us,
    Until and unless they get under our
    Skin & makes us feel hopeless.

    Every action & in-action has its,
    Consequences, some good and some bad,
    Our destiny and our deeds decides,
    Are there, tears of joy or sorrow?

    Today, the Heaven is dark,
    The trees are sad and downcast,
    All the butterflies have broken wings.

    First the janitor, then the ladies,
    Now the guru, then who’s next?
    The entire heaven pervaded with gore.
    Deadly screams of victims lingering in.

    None of us went to the clique,
    Barley drying up in the fields,
    Restricting tame ones from pasturing,
    Cursing up the entire heaven.

    Poverty and hunger engulfed the hamlet,
    Each thirsty for one another’s gore,
    Aphids start withering the crops,
    Only having depressing tears to drink.

    A village council will clasp today,
    To throw a shaft of light on the issue.
    I, too went there with my father.

    It was a far-reaching colossus banyan tree,
    The panch perching on the fourth of tree,
    We, the ordinary people were ordered,
    To sit on the mezzanine floor unshod,
    Howbeit, it was a 5 member committee.

    First of all, the janitor was probed,
    2 people assisted & made him perch.
    He had a captive white bandage,
    On his eyes, having traces of blood on it.

    He then utter his fear of words,
    That twilight, I saw a newly -wed,
    And an 8-year- old, weeping for help,
    Abruptly, a gust of warm breeze blown,
    Killing up my eyes in vengeance.

    Then the guru is cross-examined,
    He too was in deep shock & pain,
    Two people bring him on a berth,
    Having eyes filled with ichor;
    Regret & his Eyeballs missing…

    I heard an anomaly idea of anklets,
    Then I found a penumbra in the outskirts,
    The lady appealed me for help; I agreed,
    Abruptly, killing up my eyes in vengeance.

    The entire council started hustling & bustling,
    Some says, these are goons, wanting loot,
    Some says, these are neighbors wanting coup,
    Some says, these are critters hungry for blood.

    Some says, an assembly of ladies seeking shelter,
    Abruptly, a lady from the cluster yelled,
    “A lady won’t rape another lady for gold”.
    My father, too jest and said merrily,
    “There’s a soul, a lonely soul, taking revenge”.

    Suddenly, we all felt a gust of warm breeze,
    Desperate to whisper, leaves started revolting,
    The heaven become dark, dust forming an outline,
    All of a sudden, everything went serene.

    None will leave his premises after EENT,
    A janitor is specified for each premise,
    Windows, doors closed; fire beacon,
    Is ought to, the council added.

    Now, the calm of the day ended well,
    The moon hiding itself in soupy sheet of fog,
    Like the black cat lurking in the grass,
    Where the buttery winds keeps the air alive.

    That night my father was janitoring the house,
    Me dozing peacefully without any fear inside,
    Abruptly, all fire beacons of my chamber went out,
    Suddenly, I heard a scream weeping for help,
    It’s indeed!!! Was my father asking for help?

    There’s an anomaly knock on my door,
    Desperate to whisper something in my lughole,
    I felt a gust of warm breeze, haunting me…

    I got terrified and glanced back,
    Suddenly when I opened the door,
    I saw……

    “Our Intentions, Our Reality”
    TO BE CONTINUED…

    #Writersnetwork #Horrorpoetry #Eyes #Reality

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    Our Intentions, Our Reality..
    Chapter 3 -
    " The Cursed Council "


    ©kashyapraj3010

  • kashyapraj3010 3w

    "Our Intentions, Our Reality"
    Chapter 2-
    " Protect Your Spirit From Defile "

    It was a jovial daylight, after an inky twilight,
    The early risers chirping, singing melodies of desire,
    The heaven painted in hue of orange & blue,
    Dewdrops over green grass, all signifying a new inning.

    It's almost 40 degree, giving tranquility to a serene mind,
    Where the buttery cloud and Balmy wind keeps the air alive.
    Children merrily going to school, having passion in eyes,
    Goats bleating boomingly, the dairyman serving milk,
    Perhaps, the horror of that twilight ended well.

    Abruptly, a sound of hustle & bustle knocked my lughole,
    Me with my begetter runs hurriedly towards the throng,
    Briskly & very quickly, more swiftly than usual,
    I was blown away by the incident, which I saw there.

    I saw a cadaver there, ruthlessly raped and liquidated,
    Having no piece of fabric, on her entire figure,
    Her peeper still imploring for mercy, all gone in vain,
    Though, cremated her according to the customs.

    It wasn’t the initial instance, everyone hoping for the last,
    These dirty deeds reached to its pinnacle just a while ago,
    Everyone was in misery and a source of distress,
    All of a sudden, we all perceive an anomaly shriek.

    “ooouuchhhhh!!!!!, helpppp!!!!
    For God’s sake, leave me alooneeee….
    Maahhhhhh Eyeesssss!!!!!

    We all rushed towards the torment scream,
    Dealing with pain and terribly crying,
    The blood impossible to avoid,
    Killing up his eyes with full vengeance.

    It’s him, the well renowned guru of village,
    Almost fainted, begging for help, eyeballs missing,
    Anomaly, the cadaver belonging to his hermitage,
    All the mislaid belongs to her hermitage only.

    He then speaks his fear out of words,
    “We all are ghosts of yesterday, and
    The phantom of tomorrow awaits us,
    Alike in sunshine or shadow simply,
    Perceived at times, never entirely lost.”

    It was a dusky terror spooky twilight,
    Mist and fog covered up the heaven,
    The mourning silence keeps haunting,
    Dry leaves repeatedly caroling dead melodies.

    I was totally tipsy, devouring narghile,
    Rustling up fish curry with green pepper sauce,
    All of a sudden, I felt a gust of warm breeze,
    Desperate to whisper something in my lughole.

    The night was turning into a nightmare,
    The owl actually caroling songs of mine fortune,
    Dry leaves and grass starts rustling with each other,
    Cows of my heritage start booming with fear.

    All of a sudden, everything went serene,
    Like the idea of anklet bells desperate to mutter,
    Anomaly, I saw a figure in the outskirts,
    The pounding of her body was stirring me.

    She was a lady having lustrous hairs till her waist,
    Her desirable nose pin, those alluring long earrings,
    To her bluish-black eyes as deep as a beautiful sky,
    Her Golden necklace touching up her round breasts,
    Repeatedly, knocking my inner lust again & again.

    Abruptly, I observed a strange hustle in bushes behind,
    I panicked while full of terror, I glanced back,
    A strange figure starts galloping towards the lady,
    Screaming “Mumma!!! Mumma!!! Mumma!!!”.

    It was an 8-year-old girl & offspring of the lady,
    The lady then appealed me to exceed the,
    Entire night in my hermitage in a sense,
    Of to be sheltered from the glacial heaven.

    Me, who even not in my senses, Agreed!!!!
    Then our voyage keeps sliding like a curve,
    The idea of anklet bells keeps trailing my desires,
    The lady then started feeding the girl kindly.

    Any eye is an evil eye,
    That looks in on to a mood apart.

    I forget the way to heritage,
    As I was a bit tipsy & drunk,
    When I glanced back, anomaly
    No one was there, except dry leaves.

    Before, I could utter anything,
    Dark clouds of my fate roared loudly,
    Unknowingly, a gust of warm breeze blown,
    Killing up my eyes with vengeance,
    Filling up my eyes with red water.

    “Our Intentions, Our Reality”

    TO BE CONTINUED….

    #Writersnetwork #OurIntentionsOurReality #Sad #Adult

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    Protect Your Spirit From Defile..

    ©kashyapraj3010

  • kashyapraj3010 4w

    It was a Dark Stormy twilight,
    The luminous moon casting long,
    Shadows on the ground.
    The owl sitting outside in a
    Comfortable swing, singing
    Melodies of the night.

    The calm of the day ended well,
    Shadows of the trees screaming loud,
    The white sheet of fog resembling,
    Like the black cat lurking in the grass,
    A symbol of Serene.

    “oohhhhhh!!!! , oooucchhhhh!!!
    Heeelppppp!! , For God sake!!!
    Leave me alone !!!!
    Someone please help meeeee!!!!”
    Maaahhhh Eyeeesss!!!

    Dad!!! , Listen Dad!!!!
    Someone is screaming badly!!
    Dad, wake up , come on !!!!

    We both ran outside, with the people,
    Of the village briskly and very quickly,
    More quickly than usual.

    Its him, the Janitor of our realm,
    Trembling in fear & crying,
    The blood impossible to avoid,
    Killing his eyes with full vengeance.

    He, then spoke with the fear of words,
    “Well, Monsters are real,
    Ghosts are real too,
    They live inside us and sometimes,
    They definitely win”..

    While janitoring the streets last twilight,
    Suddenly, I felt a gust of warm breeze,
    Desperate to whisper something in my lughole,
    The gust of warm breeze keeps trailing me.

    I started walking in terror and a bit louder,
    As if my heart would burst up beating,
    Dust and leaves begin to rebel strongly,
    The fog and mist started covering up the heaven.

    Abruptly, everything went quiet & serene,
    The glass of my beacon just sizzles,
    I heard an innocent cry, asking for help,
    I got terrified & sweaty from head to toe.

    I panicked, while full of terror, I glanced back,
    An 8-year-old girl was shedding tears for help,
    Her clothes were ripped up, side lips shred up.
    Having messy hairs tinged with blood,
    Anomaly, having tooth bite marks all over her body.

    She wept for aid, perpetually again & again,
    I got frightened, after the scary glimpse of her,
    But from her high-pitched soprano voice,
    As “deep as ocean”, I assumed that surely,
    She belongs to a well-endowed family.

    Though, Greed is evil, so as the intent of a person,
    In avarice of gold, I agreed to help her out.
    I took her on my lap, felt like lifting up air,
    She directed me the way home swiftly.

    It was too glacial, she started quivering frequently.
    “I’ve never noticed you here before”, I asked,
    “I got split up from my mother”, she quarreled,
    Then our voyage keeps sliding like a curve.

    I again feel the gust of warm wind, yet again,
    Desperate to say something in my lughole,
    The gust of warm breeze keeps hunting me again,
    In a flash, all is serene as a beautiful first light.

    I find a outline in the mist, perpetually gazing at me,
    From the beautiful bun of her hair, to her pink lips,
    To the mascara of her fishy eyes, to her rosy cheeks,
    From her narrow waist, to her tiny long nose.
    Giving a shout to my inner lust badly & constantly.

    A lady is standing dressed perfectly like a bride,
    Fully weighted with gold, covering her breasts,
    The girls get off my lap, galloping towards lady,
    Screaming “mumma!!! , mumma !!! , mumma !!”.

    The newly-wed, verily was,
    The mother of the girl,
    Before, I could utter anything,
    Dark clouds of my fate roared loudly.

    Unknowingly, a gust of warm wind-blown,
    Killing up my eyes with vengeance,
    Filling my eyes with red water,
    All I can see is only my, dark misfortune.

    “Our Intensions Creates,
    Our Reality”

    TO BE CONTINUED…………

    #Miraquill #Horrorpoetry #Chapter1 #Writersnetwork

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    Our Intentions, Our Reality
    Chapter 1
    "The First Scream"


    ©kashyapraj3010

  • kashyapraj3010 5w

    Santa Is Just One of Us…
    - By Raj Kashyap

    It was a Dark Chilly Night,
    Where strong dusky winds,
    And large, puffy and cumulus,
    Clouds surrounds the heaven.

    The sparkling snow felt like,
    Lilies in the spring,
    Shedding themselves for pollination,
    A symbol of serene.

    I saw people singing Christmas Carols,
    The illuminations and enjoyment of,
    Christmas lights and tress,
    The wrapping and exchange of gifts,
    Though, it was a Christmas Eve.

    Well, I used to live beside the,
    Foundation of a bridge.
    Sadly, I was Homeless!!!!!
    Perhaps, only having my 7-year-old son,
    In the name of home & relations.

    I used to work as a maid in day,
    And as a house-keeper in night,
    For my living. Though,
    Getting a little constraint wage for that.

    Loneliness and the feeling of being,
    Unwanted is the most terrible
    Poverty.

    My 7-year-old child always,
    Used to ask me,
    “Mamma !!! why Santa doesn’t give,
    Us gifts, is that only because we are poor,
    Is, Christmas only for Rich”?

    This made me cry !!!!
    While hiding my emotions,
    I replied “look baby, Santa comes every year,
    To give you presents, every time,
    But you felt asleep”.

    The boy replied “Ok, fine Mumma,
    I will definitely not sleep today”.

    Suddenly, I was frightened at once,
    And realized,” when he will know,
    The truth, his trust & believe,
    Will be Shattered”.

    Time keeps passing on,
    So, the patience of my baby as well,
    He keeps on asking me,
    “Mumma !!! when will Santa come”.

    It’s quarter past two,
    The night went on and,
    The cold winds got a little harsh.

    Sometimes, whatever happens in life,
    Happens for good only.
    When fate hands us money,
    Let’s, help the poor.

    After the stormy night,
    The golden rays of sun shine
    Are waiting for us.

    When the boy finds out the truth,
    That there is nothing like Santa,
    He then quarreled and
    Ran away from there.

    Well, I too ran hurriedly after him,
    Chasing him.

    Well, he stopped in a party,
    At a big mansion.
    A Christmas party was going on there.
    Well, I got ashamed of torn-old clothes.

    I fiercely shouted at my boy,
    Ordering him to let’s go back home.
    The lady, also the owner of the mansion,
    Asked me about the whole matter.

    The lady, too was an orphan,
    And very below-par during her childhood.
    I just requested her to give me,
    Something as a sense of Christmas present
    For my baby.

    The words she said, made me cry,
    “From, now onwards, I will be
    Taking care of all the expenses of,
    Yours and your baby.
    I will send your child to New York,
    For studies too”.

    No one has ever become,
    Poor by giving,
    The one, who is Cohesive and
    Autonomous from the heart
    Is the Santa…..

    - By Raj Kashyap

    #MerryChristmas #ChristmasEve #Poor #Love

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    Santa is just one of us....

    ©kashyapraj3010

  • kashyapraj3010 6w

    Time !!!!
    Time is what we want most,
    But what we use is the worst.
    Still there’s a great thing about
    Time, that it changes…

    Time !!!!!
    Time is one’s friend as well as,
    One’s enemy at the same time.
    It totally depends on us,
    Whether to treat time as our enemy,
    Or as our friend.

    It was a beautiful sunny morning,
    I can hear faint chirping of birds,
    Golden rays of sunshine,
    Seeping in to my room,
    On October 30, 2021.

    Perhaps, Waking up to this
    Beautiful morning,
    While rubbing my sleepy eyes,
    I found a letter on my bed.

    At first, I got trembled seeing the letter,
    Then I opened it in a hurry,
    The first line of letter was as quoted,
    “GOOD MORNING, DEAR GREAT GRANDPA!!!!”

    Though, it was a letter from my,
    Great grandson from the future.
    Further, the letter stated,
    "How are you, all is well here”

    You must be thinking,
    Is someone joking with you?
    How can a letter be?
    Arrived from the future,

    Actually, we all owe a time machine,
    i.e., how I send you this letter.
    There aren’t even schools here,
    Like in your time, we are self-sufficient,
    to study on our own.

    Flying cars are here,
    Which don’t even require fuel.
    Isn’t it great grandpa?
    Now here are 100 of millions,
    Artificial trees, which provide us,
    Cool and pure unpolluted air.

    We can even control weather by our own,
    And some of friends lives on planet Mars too,
    Now there are no oceans, all droughted up,
    We can create water for drinking by air itself.

    We all have a mini robot with us,
    Who use to help us on daily basis,
    My one named as “Micey”.

    No case of rape has been since last 10 years,
    B/c, women now have become self-defendant,
    And now we aren’t divided in name of countries,
    There is only, one nation, one government.

    There is only summer season here,
    Our gov. makes it rain once a year with drones,
    That why Camel is used to our national animal,
    Many species like tigers, lions became extinct years ago.

    Now the average life of humans is 120 years,
    Only & only B/c, science got much advanced,
    Now Copper is the most expensive metal,
    B/c Gold, Platinum & diamonds, got used up
    Years ago.

    Population of human raises to 10 Billon,
    Our Gov. even created a protective,
    Shield outside ozone layer to prevent it,
    From depletion.

    There’s even a deadly disease,
    Which got spreaded by harsh,
    Rays of the sun, nearly 2 million
    People died in it.

    Perhaps, the second name of,
    Time changes.
    I think, your time, your life,
    Is the best !!!!!

    Yours loving…

    Great Grand Child

    #Writersnetwork #Miraqee #ADayIn2122 #Future

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    A Day In 2122

    ©kashyapraj3010

  • kashyapraj3010 7w

    Well, 153 contacts are there,
    On my phone,
    Still, there’s a number,
    I can’t call or dare not to delete it.

    Sometimes, we never know the value,
    Of a moment until, it becomes a
    Memory.

    From, meeting her in 2017,
    To Saving her contact number,
    In late 2019, with a lot of,
    Heart emoji’s.

    Well, I got the no. from facebook,
    But what did I know,
    That I will not be able to,
    Muster up the courage to,
    Even call or message her.

    But whenever my phone rings,
    My heart beats louder,
    Hoping that, that’s it finally,
    You called me.

    I still remembered the days,
    When we used to meet,
    I still yearn for that,
    Laugh of yours.

    From loving yours,
    High pitched Soprano voice,
    To mesmerizing your beautiful eyes,
    “As deep as ocean,
    As dreamy as a starry night”

    Still whenever it rains,
    I still remember your,
    Long beautiful wet hairs and,
    That tea we used to drank,
    In a Tea Ax.

    Well, when we truly loved someone,
    And then looks behind,
    It’s not the person whom stayed,
    It’s the memories that,
    Last long forever.

    Apparently, it wasn’t your fault,
    Hopefully, not mine,
    That time was wrong.

    Even today, when I visit the temple,
    I used to pray for your happiness,
    For your safety, for your wellbeing,
    Not for me.

    Now, you are no longer with me!!!!
    But still that photo of yours with me,
    Gives me the feeling of me being with you,
    Forever!!

    Well, hopefully today,
    Or maybe tomorrow,
    Or never ever,
    I don’t have enough courage,
    To call you and talk to you.

    If someone will ask me,
    What’s the best gift you ever got?
    Though the best gift I ever got was,
    My Parents, Your memories and your phone no.

    I don’t know why even today,
    It all seems like a dream,
    I know it's not a dream, it’s a reality,
    But still there is a fear that this,
    Dreams may be broken somewhere.

    “No matter what happens,
    Some memories can’t be replaced”.

    “Just ensure you have connections
    Rather than contacts”

    - By Raj Kashyap…..

    #WritersNetwork #Love #Alone #Onesidedlove

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    That One Contact List Number ❤️

    ©kashyapraj3010