Tag: creative-writing
-
Chances
Take your chances, O’ lonely soul, Lest the passions are abating, Seek the comforts of present not the past, for The time rushes while these keep on debating. Worried of the chances that you will lose? But equal are that of winning, if not more, What use is such caution in what to choose? When…
-
Immortal Talks – A Book Review
“Are you aware that you are not a body? You have a body.” chorused the elder Mahtangs. Introduction: GENRE: Spirituality AUTHOR: Shunya PAGES:160 YEAR OF PUBLISH: 2017 Mahtangs (better known as Mathangs) are the tribal people residing in the forests of Mount Piduru in Sri Lanka. This tribe, similar to the sentinelese, choose to be cut off from…
-
You should have a Wife?
When I was happy without any strife,when I had no qualms with life.Then it was deemed by people to advise,“Boy, you should have a wife!” I search for joy and for truth,and go for adventures in my youth.And yet it was deemed by them to be so rife,so people told me to have a wife.…
-
The Mango Tree
There I was, sitting under the Mango tree planted in the front yard of my home. My track pant was smudged with earth along with my T-shirt as if I had been rolling around in the mud but I couldn’t care less. I used to live in one of those big government quarters provided by…
-
Curiosity
A poetry less about the meaning and more about the feeling. Ought to be read that way by absorbing the meaning of each sentence, line by line.
-
सब चुप क्यों हैं?
(कल्पना करिए आप 12-15 वर्ष पहले के भारत में हैं। जैसे जैसे मैं समय में आगे बढूंगा आप समझते जाएंगे) रोज़ाना चलते जीवन के यापन में, सब चुप क्यों हैं? अंतर्द्वंद के स्थापन से भी, सब चुप क्यों हैं? सर उठा कर देखते हैं जब लोग, पता लगता है कि रास्ते तो अब खाली…
-
A Fool still in Love
Every time and again you love me, you say, I light up then, like a warm summer’s day. In the minutes that come, I am like a kid, so full of joy and having fun. That fun is so much more than you think, it is blissful, joyous, serene, cheery, sprightly, exuberant. I pop a smile…
-
The Poet
Is a poet not a poet unless he is known? Or unless his name, upon the carcass of a tree, Blinding, in golden letters beautifully shone? Is he not someone, to lead with might, and raise a din of soundless voice, to address every whim in the world’s plight? It is said, ‘The pen is…
-
Travelling down your memory lane
How do I begin to tell you of how I feel about you? I found you out of the blue, when I was down, thought I was through. I miss what we had, it was just months ago, and I will forever cherish that time spent, precious, before we had to go. I had no…