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  • megha_emm 205w

    This post is about cleaning ritual of your mind from the toxic and unnecessary thoughts and making space for new healthy ones.

    Hope you enjoy reading!! ��

    Curtains of your mind

    Once in a while,
    open the curtains of your mind
    and free yourself from gibberish grind;
    snap open the window pane
    to let some fresh thoughts rain
    in place of stale stubborn ones
    covered in dirt, dust
    and stinking bane.

    Once in a while,
    open the curtains of your mind
    and let the light flood your sanctum sanctorum
    to rekindle extinguishing flame of joy
    in the thoughts flowing in your blood
    and bathe your mind;
    scrubbing off the dark,
    wear the new cloak of photons,
    bright and kind.

    Once in a while,
    open the curtains of your mind.

    ©megha

    Read More

    Curtains of your mind

    Once in a while,
    open the curtains of your mind
    and free yourself from gibberish grind;
    snap open the window pane
    to let some fresh thoughts rain
    in place of stale stubborn ones
    covered in dirt, dust
    and stinking bane.

    Once in a while,
    open the curtains of your mind
    and let the light flood your sanctum sanctorum
    to rekindle extinguishing flame of joy
    in the thoughts flowing in your blood
    and bathe your mind;
    scrubbing off the dark,
    wear the new cloak of photons,
    bright and kind.

    Once in a while,
    open the curtains of your mind.


    ©megha

  • megha_emm 206w

    I have tried to write this post from the point of view of women who are victims of placing their trust in the wrong men and how the society would still blame them for everything wrong and let the men just walk around unquestioned.
    Many may say that this is a biased opinion. Well may be it is, but there is truth in it nevertheless.
    And yes I am open to opinions.

    Lost Dreams

    She entrusted him
    with a dream;
    but inside the progressive exterior
    was a primitive skin,
    undeveloped, ruthless,
    leaving her callously
    to scream;
    the rose petals
    tortured, pricked with thorns
    plucked
    from the sheen
    of her very dream.
    She kept her mouth shut
    and waited for herself to wither.
    Why?
    Because they would say
    she built a house of cards
    and dared to call it home.
    Would someone dare
    to question the one
    who lent her a hand in gluing
    of the cards and sewing
    of the house, the one
    he later trampled
    under his own feet
    when the world
    loudly whispered
    'defeat'
    in her ears.

    ©megha

    #trampled #dreams #rose #petals #thorns #houseofcards #defeat #world #callous #primitive @writersnetwork @readwriteunite @mirakeeworld @mirakeereposter

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    Lost dreams

    She entrusted him
    with a dream;
    but inside the progressive exterior
    was a primitive skin,
    undeveloped, ruthless,
    leaving her callously
    to scream;
    the rose petals
    tortured, pricked with thorns
    plucked
    from the sheen
    of her very dream.
    She kept her mouth shut
    and waited for herself to wither.
    Why?
    Because they would say
    she built a house of cards
    and dared to call it home.
    Would someone dare
    to question the one
    who lent her a hand in gluing
    of the cards and sewing
    of the house, the one
    he later trampled
    under his own feet
    when the world
    loudly whispered
    'defeat'
    in her ears.

    ©megha

  • megha_emm 206w

    There are times when truths suddenly come across as lies and lies become truths overnight. When the walls of trust crumble and you suddenly realize manipulations were the sole adhesive holding your picture perfect world, you get lost in a labyrinth trying to put truths and lies in separate heaps. Well, this post is just trying to capture that feeling when one feels lost in the world of manipulations.

    Manipulations

    When lies are served
    in a silver bowl,
    captivated by enticing sight,
    the eyes roll;
    decorated lies make their way
    to throbbing heart
    like sparkling wine
    gushes down the throat
    making you momentarily gay.
    you get high on lies;
    a warm sensation and a false elation.
    Meanwhile,
    the truth is distorted and splattered,
    then it's wiped off your table
    with the napkin on your lap
    which is conveniently disposed of
    so you can't find it ever again;
    even after coming out of daze completely stable.
    and you are lost forever
    in the maze of truths, lies and manipulations.

    ©megha

    Thank you for reading ❤

    #lies #truths #manipulations #daze #wine #silver #bowl #captivated #enticing #distorted #high @writersnetwork @readwriteunite @mirakeeworld @mirakeereposter

    Read More

    Manipulations

    When lies are served
    in a silver bowl,
    captivated by enticing sight,
    the eyes roll;
    decorated lies make their way
    to throbbing heart
    like sparkling wine
    gushes down the throat
    making you momentarily gay.
    you get high on lies;
    a warm sensation and a false elation.
    Meanwhile,
    the truth is distorted and splattered,
    then it's wiped off your table
    with the napkin on your lap
    which is conveniently disposed of
    so you can't find it ever again;
    even after coming out of daze completely stable.
    and you are lost forever
    in the maze of truths, lies and manipulations.

    ©megha

  • megha_emm 206w

    Another day

    the same timestamp,
    the same place,
    just a different day;
    do not these days just
    one after another
    simply cascade?

    the same searching eyes
    intrigued by the same skies,
    looking for something new
    in the day, which seems to
    hold the same view
    as yesterday.

    was yester year anything
    different about the same time
    of same day?
    were the patches on the walls
    of porch then a little lighter?
    did the sun then shine a little brighter?
    was the grass of the lawn then better mown?
    was there shine
    in the eyes
    in place of search?

    the eyes continue the search;
    Aha! the sun today sets behind
    a different patterns of clouds,
    yesterday it hid itself behind mounds;
    does the shade of orange today
    differs a bit from the amber yesterday?

    Ah! May be being naive
    is how you see
    the newness of each day.
    Like a child whose imagination runs wild, who is constantly amused with the
    little offerings of each day and every day.

    ©megha

    #day #clouds #cascade #naive #child #wild #orange #amber #imagination #same #newness #search #eyes #bright #grass #lawn #mown #amused @writersnetwork @readwriteunite

    Read More

    Another day

    the same timestamp,
    the same place,
    just a different day;
    do not these days just
    one after another
    simply cascade?

    the same searching eyes
    intrigued by the same skies,
    looking for something new
    in the day, which seems to
    hold the same view
    as yesterday.

    was yester year anything
    different about the same time
    of same day?
    were the patches on the porch walls then a little lighter?
    did the sun then shine a little brighter?
    was the grass of the lawn then better mown?
    was there shine
    in the eyes
    in place of search?

    the eyes continue the search;
    Aha! the sun today sets behind
    a different patterns of clouds,
    yesterday it had hid itself behind mounds;
    does the shade of orange today
    differs a bit from the amber yesterday?

    Ah! May be being naive
    is how you see
    the newness of each day.
    Like a child whose imagination runs wild,
    who is constantly amused
    with the little offerings of each day and every day.

    ©megha

  • megha_emm 206w

    Garden of hope

    I just wish
    to sow
    a few seeds
    of my words, not much
    but just enough
    so I can nourish them
    with the water
    of my tears
    shed
    while harvesting
    the hope
    amidst the storms
    and thunder,
    one word a day
    in the plantation,
    so the plants
    grow into trees
    consuming light.
    I just wish
    to create
    a beautiful garden,
    a small forest,
    where a tired soul
    could stop by
    under the shade
    of words
    hanging
    on the trees
    of hope,
    to find
    some inspiration
    and continue
    the journey
    after
    a brief halt
    renewed
    with
    afresh hope.

    ©megha

    #hope #trees #plant #garden #forest #journey #inspiration #thunder #storms #tears #continue #halt @mirakeeworld @mirakeereposter @readwriteunite @writersnetwork

    Read More

    Garden of hope

    I just wish
    to sow
    a few seeds
    of my words, not much
    but just enough
    so I can nourish them
    with the water of my tears
    shed
    while harvesting
    the hope
    amidst the storms
    and thunder,
    one word a day
    in the plantation,
    so the plants
    grow into trees
    consuming light.
    I just wish
    to create
    a beautiful garden,
    a small forest,
    where a tired soul
    could stop by
    under the shade
    of words
    hanging
    on the trees
    of hope,
    to find
    some inspiration
    and continue
    the journey
    after
    a brief halt
    renewed
    with
    afresh hope.

    ©megha

  • megha_emm 206w

    Flow of my thoughts

    I see the mini waterfalls and streams enjoin at some point into a comprehensive flow of a river, flowing with propensity, impetuous to the hurdles thrown on its way, meandering along the unknown, discovering new territories and revelling in the new found perspectives, never leaving its chase to reach the ultimate goal of harmony of ever blissful sea, day by day taking one step ahead to meet the deep blue sea where restlessness of river comes to a halt and it becomes one with the peace.
    I wonder if i could see
    my thoughts flow
    in the realms of visibility
    from my coming out of the womb
    to the final step of landing into the tomb;
    What would I see?
    How much of an evolution will there be?
    I would love to see the exact milestones of the flow of my thoughts from my birth to my death and how long is the journey for the flow of my thoughts to reach the ever blissful sea.
    I wish I could see
    the flow of my thoughts
    in the realms of visibility.

    ©megha

    #sea #flow #thoughts #womb #tomb #birth #death #realms #visibility #harmony #bliss #restlessness #waterfall #stream #enjoin @writersnetwork @readwriteunite @mirakeeworld @mirakeereposter

    Read More

    Flow of my thoughts

    I see the mini waterfalls and streams enjoin at some point into a comprehensive flow of a river, flowing with propensity, impetuous to the hurdles thrown on its way, meandering along the unknown, discovering new territories and revelling in the new found perspectives, never leaving its chase to reach the ultimate goal of harmony of ever blissful sea, day by day taking one step ahead to meet the deep blue sea where restlessness of river comes to a halt and it becomes one with the peace.
    I wonder if i could see
    my thoughts flow
    in the realms of visibility
    from my coming out of the womb
    to the final step of landing into the tomb;
    What would I see?
    How much of an evolution will there be?
    I would love to see the exact milestones of the flow of my thoughts from my birth to my death and how long is the journey for the flow of my thoughts to reach the ever blissful sea.
    I wish I could see
    the flow of my thoughts
    in the realms of visibility.

    ©megha

  • megha_emm 206w

    Shades of grey

    Our thoughts are entrapped
    in the greys,
    while we keep categorising them
    in the shades
    of pitch black and pure white.
    Neither am I white, nor are you black.
    Neither am I black, nor are you white.
    We are all just shades of grey.
    A little dark, working our way towards
    a brilliant white light.

    ©megha

    #writersnetwork #readwriteunite #light #dark #black #white #shadesofgrey #thoughts #entrapped @writersnetwork @readwriteunite @mirakeeworld @mirakeereposter

    Read More

    Shades of grey

    Our thoughts are entrapped
    in the greys,
    while we keep categorising them
    in the shades
    of pitch black and pure white.
    Neither am I white, nor are you black.
    Neither am I black, nor are you white.
    We are all just shades of grey.
    A little dark, working our way towards
    a brilliant white light.


    ©megha

  • megha_emm 206w

    Just a reflection or may be you may call it an introspection.

    Definitely may be

    May be the problem is
    that we forget to ask the right questions.
    We ask what do I get
    but do we not forget to ask what do I give?
    May be the problem is
    that we try too hard to make sense.
    We see the rights
    but as soon as we see one wrong
    do we not delve too deep trying to make sense of why and how?
    May be the problem is
    that we hide our insecurities behind the veil of hypocrisy.
    We want to be seen as honest and true
    but do we not forget to accept our flaws to ourselves atleast?
    May be the problem is
    that we forget the difference between trying and refusing to move on.
    We put in efforts and try
    but do we not sometimes forget that karma is important than arriving where we want and sometimes it makes sense rather to move on?
    May be the problem is
    that we are perpetually hungry.
    We are hungry for better life, more money, better car, better phone, better career and even better love for that matter,
    but do we not forget to spare a minute for being grateful enough for all that already is?
    May be the problem is
    that we are always looking for validation.
    We thrive on FB likes, insta likes, these likes, those likes,
    but does our own sense of righteousness and living in the moment fail to suffice?
    May be the problem is
    that we attach too much importance to ourselves.
    We always see ourselves at the centre stage of our life
    but should we not sometimes stop and look past us and just reflect?
    May be!
    May be there's still a long journey?
    Definitely may be.

    ©megha

    #writersnetwork #readwriteunite #definitely #maybe #problems #life @writersnetwork @readwriteunite @mirakeeworld @mirakeeans @mirakeereposter

    Read More

    Definitely may be

    May be the problem is
    that we forget to ask the right questions.
    We ask what do I get
    but do we not forget to ask what do I give?
    May be the problem is
    that we try too hard to make sense.
    We see the rights
    but as soon as we see one wrong
    do we not delve too deep trying to make sense of why and how?
    May be the problem is
    that we hide our insecurities behind the veil of hypocrisy.
    We want to be seen as honest and true
    but do we not forget to accept our flaws to ourselves atleast?
    May be the problem is
    that we forget the difference between trying and refusing to move on.
    We put in efforts and try
    but do we not sometimes forget that karma is important than arriving where we want and sometimes it makes sense rather to move on?
    May be the problem is
    that we are perpetually hungry.
    We are hungry for better life, more money, better car, better phone, better career and even better love for that matter,
    but do we not forget to spare a minute for being grateful enough for all that already is?
    May be the problem is
    that we are always looking for validation.
    We thrive on FB likes, insta likes, these likes, those likes,
    but does our own sense of righteousness and living in the moment fail to suffice?
    May be the problem is
    that we attach too much importance to ourselves.
    We always see ourselves at the centre stage of our life
    but should we not sometimes stop and look past us and just reflect?
    May be!
    May be there's still a long journey?
    Definitely may be.

    ©megha

  • megha_emm 207w

    It's better to stay without love
    than to stay in misery on the grave of love.

    ©megha

  • megha_emm 207w

    When nothing seems to work in the waking world,
    writing is where I want to escape into,
    because the world of writing is my creation which works on my whims and my fancies.
    Here and here solely the absolute power is mine.


    ©megha