To celebrate the anniversary of a life well lived by one of my mentors here and a brother to me, I do a repost of the first collab I had with him @ /kehta hai joker, which was his idea that came from a post he had done earlier on religion filled with lots of questions. I only hope to meet you when the day comes to join you in the spirit realm Titled A Conversation With God ------------------------------------------------------------------------
QUESTIONING GOD by kehati hai joker Did we create god after coming first , or God really did make us Is there a divine plan that has gone bust Or Is that just nonsense, superflous.
If I met god on a downtown bus Why should I submit and blindly trust And not stop to debate and discuss why some sleep hungry and some get surplus
Why does he need mediators for his arquebus Why can't he be like Dumbledore and use sonorous Why do wallflowers face behavior unjust While ungodly men go unblamed for their ruckus If evil it was,why did he even make lust To win my faith,answer he must
If we come concocted from stardust Then why does vicious shine and virtuous rust If man is bad,then as creator isn't he worst Is this a bubble,that science is about to burst Is there a divine plan that has gone bust Or Is that just nonsense, superflous
GOD ANSWERS by Me So you wanted to debate and discuss Or do you want me to make all your questions just For one to beleive was never made a must Like a sailing ship in life I act as the mast I never look at the misdeeds of the past For if you repent I forgive and lay it at rest All I ask is for the path to be followed at its best I never made but I created you first For I saw the earth bare it would fall to its own rust Don't forget Satan was an but fell from heaven fast Never doubt he was from the beginning and attacks at you lust And if you slip into his den you'll never see past And so my son came to offer life that your redemption may last For my mediators were outnumbered by a vast So to you I lay no cast,and today as you lay get a rest For the question I can't answer is when will be your last For this series I've been with you I have laid my cast
The was a time when you were hopeful And aimed to reach for the stars With unlimited amount of joy And fiddled with laughter Just like a toy
There was a time you had unending smile Packed to brim with positive energy With eveeything touched vibrant To the world it was joy And to the heart love
And this is the time it all feels a fantasy Like a dream that faded with time A joy that died in its own prime Faded away the ecstacy No longer vibrant
This is the time the smile is upside down A frown that forms its own delight With a light full of darkness Closed end of the tunnel To shun the light
There was a time you were hopeful And it was buried by shattered love There was a time you had unending smile And it faded across with the distance social This is the time it all feels like a fantasy This is the time when the smile is up-side-down
Lost between the lines of lost hope Clogged within a mind of self-doubt Unfound within a beimmed daekness Scorched in a time-loop so saddened
Jo really imbibed the name Joker in letter and spirit. He hid his pains behind that infectious humor of his. His words seemed to comfort the fellow writers who had troubles... He kept his posts hopeful and entertaining.
His words offered new perspectives and information and always he added to it his trademark comedy. His roasts became popular real quick and some sort of celebrity status was conferred on anyone who was roasted by him.
He spread positivity and cheer whenever he spill ink over paper and truly he became that crack ass comedian he aspired to be. He made a family out of strangers on a writing app, which still sticks together and that itself is an ode to his great persona.
We all love u Brother
From Kini, Sid, and me for Jo: ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ //Words of his spread hope so big A mine of happiness yielding more the more you dig A bright sunshine in a world so sad Infectious humor turning things good from bad A brother, friend, poet, comedian Living by ideology of carpe diem Full of vigor making life memorable Weaving his own endearing fable Always in our memories and our thoughts All his battles he bravely fought Becoming A guiding light to love our lives His hopeful vivacious spirit surely never dies!! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Words of his spread hope so big Words so jovial and band-aid banter, His style of comic An effulgent ray amongst the world so dark With a heart so tender, a rare gleaming spark An invigorating breeze chasing away the gloom Spreading smiles and giggles in magic woods tune A brother, a friend, a kind of light Now, A gleaming star in the blue moon delight Finding a new place to roast and grow Teaching us lessons of unborn tomorrow" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Words of his, spread hope so big Like the fragrance of those old books He held wisdom, courage and knowledge Whilst hugging humour, love and positivity
Just like his Pen-name He put smiles on everyone's faces Whether with the roasts, banter or jokes He made Mirakee a home for many
He welcomed the new budding writers Revered and admired the old ones Through his quill he wrote masterpieces Addressing the societal taboos and issues
He was a staunch film lover Often replied with legendary dialogues Even dedicated a post to his favorite film But never 'Acted' and adhered to 'Realness' in reality
And such was our dear brother, Who only believed in going forward For the show must go on Yehi Kehta hai Joker... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ (In order myself, @kin_jo and @the_speccy_outsider )
PS. The title draws from the fact that Our bro Jo loved and lived the movie Anand... #jandjforever#refrain
To register her defiance against caste oppression, Nangeli performed such a great act of courage and boldness that not only an oppressive system was annulled but it also set a supreme example of liberation and revolution by the oppressed lower caste people. ---------------------------------------------------------- This story is of Nangeli.
Nangeli (meaning "the beautiful one") was a young girl of the Ezhava community living in the Travancore Kingdom in eighteenth century. (This area now falls in Kerala).
Ezhava is a lower caste (currently 23% of the Kerala population) while the kingship was with Brahmins who followed a barbarically rigid caste hierarchy which was maintained through a system of cruel taxes. The Travancore kingdom ran on taxes levied on poor people, especially on the lower castes Ezhavas and Nadar. There was a tax on wearing jewelry and on men for keeping moustaches. There was also a tax on women, the breast tax. The breast tax was a tax imposed until 1924 on the lower caste and untouchable Hindu women by the Kingdom of Tranvancore if they wanted to cover their breasts in public. The lower caste and untouchable women were expected to pay the government the breast tax when they started developing breasts; the tax was supposedly assessed in proportion to the size of their breasts.
Multiple historians have documented that uncovering one's breasts was revered as a symbolic token of homage from the lower castes towards the upper castes in the kingdom of Travancore and a state-law prevented any covering of breasts since it demarcated the caste hierarchy in a prominent manner. This had often been the focal point of multiple rebellions by lower castes.
I am unable to imagine this absurdly oppressive clothing system and the illogical economic tax system of this kingdom's Brahmin rulers. Upper caste Nair women were "allowed" to cover their breasts with a loose shawl but had to immediately uncover their breasts in front of priests, husbands, and kings. While the lower caste women could never cover themselves above the torso.
Amidst this relentless caste based tax oppression that always kept Nangeli and her husband in debt despite back breaking labor in fields all day, lived the fiery Nangeli. She was always headstrong and openly bitter of the leering upper caste men and their sexual and mental harassment of her caste people. She refused to pay the breast tax by covering her breasts. She was against this caste based and gendered tax that was an unbearable burden to their already meagre resources. She took up this challenge which was quickly noticed by the pravathiyar (village tax officer) of Travancore who came to Nangeli's home to survey her breasts and collect the breast tax.
Nangeli revolted against the harassment; she was outraged at this cruelty and in utmost rage she chopped off her breasts, presenting them to him in a plantain leaf. She died soon from loss of blood.
Her husband Chirukandan, seeing her mutilated body was overcome by grief and jumped into her funeral pyre - in what was supposedly the first male sati. --------------------------------------------------------- Following the death of Nangeli, a series of people's movements apparently set off and similar folk-lores have been noted. The breast tax system was supposedly annulled in Travancore, soon afterwards and the place she lived had came to be known as Mulachiparambu (meaning land of the breasted woman). ----------------------------------------------------
Nangeli's fight shines on the change that women's rage can bring about and the message that women should register their anger against oppression.
But what is saddening is the ignorance surrounding this legendary story of a woman's rebellion against caste and women oppression. We need to spread this story which acts as an inspiration to me both as a woman and a person against any kind of oppression. The case of the only male sati is also forgotten and erased. We need to acknowledge Nangeli and her husband's great sacrifice for the cause of equality and dignity.
Its time we acknowledge the fact that the Indian women especially the lower caste women in our country are still devoid of much agency and security due to their social standing.
The initial upper caste women in Travancore who were allowed to wear blouses were ostracised from community as it was seen as deviation from the "culture" of the place.
I am angry at the patriarchy which wants to decide whether we should wear clothes or not and what should women wear at all times. In France, Burqa is banned, in Afghanistan even hands have to be covered. Why are men given powers over women dressing? I ask this question too.
Let's all of us resolve to end such oppression. And Hail Nangeli!
Green: One word to 24% matching text. Yellow: 25-49% matching text. Orange: 50-74% matching text. Red: 75-100% matching text Blue: No plagiarism. ~ according to Turnitin (an Internet-based plagiarism detection service)
/What is plagiarism in your eyes ? Is it that your few words can be found beautifying someone else poem ? Plagiarism isn't about words , concept or corresponding to nature.
~If the words you use like let me give my example a word 'cwtch' many of us write. But I know hundreds of users here got to know about this word from me. And what about me? I also got to know about this word from a vocab page at Instagram. So can I say that these people who started using this word in their write ups that I own this word and you are copying me? No, I can not cause I'm not the one who actually invented this word.
~If your concept is somehow same after reading someone later then he is a plagiarizer but if you read the same concept written before you wrote then you aren't a plagiarizer. Is it so? Concepts can be same but the way of expression can vary. This is not plagiarism.
~sky is beautiful. You can read this line almost everywhere. This is a natural thing which no one can pilagirize. _
Yes, if your exact words are being used by someone without giving you credits. This is called plagiarism. As the miraquilleans rather than posting this or warning people contact with Carolyn Ma'am or send a mail to miraquill with proofs. They will surely look into this matter. I'm saying this all cause I have done a very big mistake by myself here a few months ago by disturbing the peace of miraquill and posting posts about plagiarism. But, I learned after such experience "to not to show anger be peaceful" Notify the admins/
PS- People plagiarize the best ones be proud of yourself and they plagiarized you, you didn't so let them take stress, be happy!
This weekend write a piece on FRIENDS! Anything that comes to your mind when it comes to friends...their need or if friendship is overrated or loneliness or togetherness....Write and have fun!✌
Submissions till Tuesday. Winners on Wednesday.
Use hashtag #contest_j ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I wish I had friends here... With whom I could talk With whom I could share Things that happen in my daily life And things that trouble me I wish I had friends here... With whom I could laugh With whom I could fight With whom I could be safe Even if roaming out all night I wish I had friends here... Who would come and meet me And understand my pain With whom I could open up Each day after work With whom I could be myself And not what we all pretend to be to outside world I wish I had friends here... From whom demanding anything Would never seem too much Who would not leave me alone on a festival night Who would ask everyday and call every night Whether I am good or in a plight I wish I had friends here... Who would end the silence In which I stay each day When I enter my lonely house
I wish I had friends here... Whom I could love and hold dear And Who would be close enough to hear My sobs, my laughs and wipe my tear Oh I wish I had friends here...
So glad to read the words of a myriad poets the pieces gracefully embellished ineffable creativity of each pen... thanks for friends for participating and sharing your minds and hearts through your pieces✍️
The winners are:
FIRST 1. STARDUST WRITES 2. WAIT a MINUTE
SECOND 1. PJ ANIMATION 2. OUTOFLEAGUE 3. THE SPECCY OUTSIDER 4. _FIREFLY
THIRD 1. MILLION DREAMS KEEP ME AWAKE 2. PERSONAL FAVORITE
Congratulations to all winners on their outstanding performance see y'all next time✌✌till then ....let the ink flowwwwwwww! ✍️✍️✍️
You once told me to drape scars with beige roses and grow by wrapping remains of upheaval. But fear flaunt cobwebs betwixt thorns, which are afraid of prickling skin in delirious way amidst orchard that is, for you, lethal.
You once told me, poets are bohemians sculpting domicile for every trespasser walking inside the vast colony of their poetries, now that I roam on the lanes of unheard stories, light transpire within me every day while darkness fail to step amidst my allegories.
You once told me to bloom sunflowers in backyard of my house, you said people pass withered flowers to others & keep blossoming once in their own caskets. Little did I knew this world runs on the chariot of beautiful hearts but deep- inside survive on else's flesh.
You once told me, this journey is more about relishing on the bounty it carries than arriving at the destination we are meant to be, so I fly everywhere my heart wants before this wings reach at the shoreline of dreams, which is stitched to the vast sea. ~Purva
My submission for the unique challenge hosted by @jaya___
There was a time when you were hopeful, thinking that the silver lining won't pose as a distant dream.
But there was a time when I wasn't even hopeful about Hope. Life is not fair, and I learnt it the hard way. I accuse Life for being guilty of larceny. It took some extremely priced possessions from me that I once held close to my heart.
Albeit, soon I found that what I held dear to me was the reason for my misery. I was so inebriated by them that I relinquished my grasp on pragmatism. Living in illusions and fantasies was something I adhered to for so long as I felt that nothing else would grant me euphoria.
Hence, it was necessary. For me to experience the epiphany that, even though brought me utmost torment, made me realise where I should invest verity. Something that gave me a verisimilitude view at the inception, was in fact a conductor of arson.
So I decided to placate my mind by sprinkling the powder of Hope. My imperfections made me debonair. And I felt that it is a discombobulating struggle to keep perfection alive. That is the sole reason why I have decided to 'Go with the flow'.