Crown of wild, unruly curls
Heart of fickle fire
Soul with the wilful wings of want
She was no angel nor devil
But oh , oh why would she ever be just a human?
She was so much more ….
Life in evermore !
She was the beyond, the belief, the beauty
And so much more ….
Life in evermore !
~ By Kaisera Kanwar
VIOLET
We were one in body and soul.
INDIGO
We stood together never breaking apart.
BLUE
After they tried to drown us you forgot how to breathe.
GREEN
Your thorns pierce my heart.
YELLOW
I search for another sun in my solar system.
ORANGE
Fall seven times. Get up. Eight.
RED
The wounds heal but the scars remain.
The 1st day
Sirens awakened the Moonman from his boozy slumber.
The 2nd day
His hangover left him soon after the rigid limbs were caressed by the mortician.
The 3rd day
A flutter of paper, stuttering sex workers and clicks of a pen droned for hours at end.
The 4th day
The Moonman was desperate. He fought. He argued. He hit, again. He killed, again.
The 5th day
She wasn’t found, she wasn’t as important. But the gun was.
The 6th day
The solemn, smoking sergeant knew enough to guess, but still too less.
The 7th day
The Moonman ; a crescent inked onto his neck and a face just as cratered with scars and pockmarks. Repeat offender. Madman. Drunkard. Lost soul. 6ft 3 inches.
The 8th day
He chose bottles of booze to escape rather than boats. He could have, he just didn’t.
The 9th day
The sergeant was ready to tighten the noose. Evidence in place, bullets in case.
The 10th day
The moonman heard whispers around the brothel and bar. They were coming for him.
The 11th day
He sat next to the sea. Fight or flight, all his life.
The 12th day
They found him. He found her. She found eternal silence.
~
After all he was hunting for a star to shine with him in the pitch dark. (Misery loves company)
She was corrupted as was he and in that lay their destiny…..
~
21st June 2019
Entry I
As we celebrate the ancient practice of yoga on this day and as I complete my fourth yoga class at the Sivananda Yoga Centre (https://www.yogashowstheway.com/), I have decided to document the journey of discovering yoga and the many muscles of my feet !
Yoga often knocked on my door in the form of school mandated lessons and Yoga Day celebrations. I enjoyed it but never regularly practised asanas. About two months back I found myself with more time than I could hope to while away on my bed and hence decided to try my hand at a trial yoga class. The experience was great ! I felt stretched physically and relaxed mentally. The Om chanting reminded me of the powerful Omkar meditation I had tried my hand at 3 years back at Isha Foundation in Tamil Nadu (which I had thoroughly enjoyed and practised thereafter). All in all, I could have easily joined then and there, but due to some academic classes (and sheer laziness) I chose not to.
Fast forward to now, with a highly motivated partner (in form of a cousin sister who has just flown down from Bombay) I am enrolled for a month at the centre. I highly recommend having a partner, it helps with waking up on time and you can also share ‘muscle discovery’ notes!
The next post will dive deeper into what the first few classes were like, so stay tuned ! (This series will be limited to 10 posts or less)
Lastly, do drop a comment if you have / are currently practising / plan to practise yoga ! What has your experience been like ?
~ Kaisera Kanwar
Founder YWC
Saloni Sharma lives in New Delhi and likes reading mystery novels. She is also interested in art. She uses poetry to express her thoughts and emotions.
By Saloni Sharma
I try to speak
But I can’t find my voice
I try to talk
But I can’t find my words.
Why am I so silent ?
I don’t know
In the maze of this world
Where am I supposed to go?
I have no voice
But I want to be heard
I can’t talk
But I want to sing like a bird.
I hear , I see
But I can’t rejoice
Because there has to be someone out there
Who can hear my silent voice.
Aryaman Kumar is an occasional writer, based near Pune (Maharashtra). He is inspired by strong opinions, beliefs and real life experiences. Human emotions find a significant foothold in his work. He hopes to be a medical professional in the future and raise awareness about medical illnesses.
By Aryaman Kumar
I was walking in darkness. I didn’t dare think about it, because then I would drown.
And if I started to drown, I know I wouldn’t be able to save myself.
Breathe.
Was all I could do. I was a ghost with a beating heart.
All around me, was the abyss of nothing. Yet, in the nothingness, there was everything. Every sort of pain.
The inescapable frozen claws of fear gripped me constantly, and I felt the cold, cruel, yet peaceful wave of emptiness flow over me.
Breathe.
I don’t know why. I don’t know why I kept walking aimlessly.
All I knew was
Breathe.
Why was I even breathing?
I collapsed, a single tear falling off my face and onto the destitute ground.
Until I saw the light.
Breathe.
The light was warm, and it chased away the demons that lurked in the shadows.It dried my tears, and sewed the pieces of my heart together.
Thanks to the light, I finally had a reason to
Breathe.
~
{ Title inspired by non-fiction autobiographical book written by Paul Kalanithi. }
By Aryaman Kumar
Tears roll down my eyes,
As I sit under starry skies.
The stars shine, in the deep black sky
I sit and stare, travelling anywhere
My mind’s a mess, for its under distress
Those memories hurt, as the mind crumbles.
All this serves to make me humble.
As I recollect my faults.
From those deep, deep vaults
I miss you still, my heart isn’t still.
It breaks and tears, along my stay
I do still cry though I’ve lost my way.
I do miss you still, and I’ve done this before.
I’ll break myself as ever more.
Thunder strikes
The skies break
The rains begin, with a brake
Even nature stares.
Ever all human and we make mistakes,
Only to lament after we’ve lost our stake.
The heart is beaten black and blue
The mind has vanished askew
The soul is lonely, pale and stale.
For it’s shut its doors on life and ale
I’ve grown to try and escape
But alas I can’t let go of my mistakes
Seeking redemption on every door
Will you but not answer my call ?
The promises made , will be kept
Tis for that , I have wept.
Feelings of disappointment pain and betrayal
Words said with out scale,
Meaningless as they are.
They still strike without care.
And I look beyond the valley
And fade away.
Aayush Gugnani is an amateur writer based out of New Delhi. He uses free style word play to express his political opinions and occasionally dabbles in poetry. He uses the world as his canvas and believes in expressing his thoughts and feelings openly.
By Aayush Gugnani
In the breezy summer
With the golden sun,
Shimmering at the horizon
I stood there in oblivion.
Standing at the worlds end
Waiting for you to come back,
I clinged on to my memories with you
Cherishing our moments as a pack.
What once was a dream for me,
Became a reality.
Once I was an ill fitted piece
Soon we became family.
We held each other in times of despair
And had each other’s back here & there.
Never had the world,
Seen such a ravishing pair.
We were unbreakable,
Like a covalent bond.
At least that’s what people said,
To which we replied it was a miracle of the gods’ wand.
Alas ! Now you’ve gone too far
Away from the gusty winds
Away from being what you were
Or who you are.
I’m not complaining for the woes
Happy you finally got what’s yours.
I’ll be there if and when you return
To fill your saddened pores.
Life without you in the beginning was tough,
Nights were endless and rough.
Though I learned to cope with them,
Yet, I wonder how can I pacify my sinking soul.
O how do I break myself from these shackled chains?
To go back to being what I really was.
Don’t ever think I’m not with you.
I’m an undercurrent,
You might not be able to see me
But in all your times of both happiness and despair,
I will be omnipresent.
Life’s a chaos without a pattern
One moment we’re here,
The other we’re not.
Yet, I try to maintain positivity in life.
Try to look up and find the northern light,
Look down to see the sea shimmering bright.
The haze maybe temporary,
But the maze is permanent.
Our laugh maybe fading,
But our love for each other,
Our love is effervescent.
Shiuli Sural is a young Indian writer based out of New Delhi. She mostly writes fiction, underlining a social message in her stories. Besides being an avid reader and writing, her hobbies include drawing, listening to music and cooking.
By Shiuli Sural
Ahoy there! The land approaches
The soldiers rejoice, the prisoner reproaches
They’ve come back from another battle
Destroyed houses, people and cattle
So the kingdom is now safe again
From enemies, treachery and disdain
The brave-hearts fought with all their might
To win each and every fight
But,
Those who had been martyred
On both sides, winners and losers
Shed tears for their families from above
They had been husbands, sons and fathers.
A war can never decide
Who is wrong and who is right
What is big and what is small
Who will rise and who will fall
What war does,
Is that it divides the world
Into more pieces and erects more walls
How can a broken heart ever rejoice
With restless nights and a dying voice
My world , my people, my near and dear
Let’s live in peace with love and care
Holding hands we all will say
That we renounce war from today
There are more pressing matters to be dealt with
Changing climate, rising poverty and filth
This beautiful blue mother Earth
Needs us to acknowledge her worth.
By Shiuli Sural
It was not long ago
When the world looked dark to me
It made me question myself
My life, my choice, my ability
I turned around, looking
For help to forget my strain
Instead I found, a white substance
An answer to my pain
I felt so high
Like I could almost fly
This was ecstasy
No more did I cry
My very own world
No one to be seen
None to be heard
Here, I was the queen
A day arrived
Though not all of a sudden
When this world of mine
Was ruled by Satan
What I’d created in a frenzy
Had now turned it’s back on me
It clenched my throat
How I choked and choked
In the ocean of despair
Was my life’s sinking boat
But,
Then a change that was long due
Came in little by little
And I started to realise
Why my life was so brittle
I reached out for help,
Support, hope and empathy
I found oceans of all this and more
In someone who saved me
My therapist proved to be
An angel in disguise
Light and love she made me see
And freed me from my ties
Now,
I see the world with hues of hope
And the earth bejewelled with light
My mind and soul dream and smile
I find joy in every sight.
Ishaan Garg is a positive boy of 19, who hails from the heritage city of Gwalior and is currently studying at Christ University, Bangalore. The habit of writing developed accidentally, when he was somewhat in a state of stress. His writings decode the reality of life, world and the holistic learning, he received from the society, and also one’s understanding towards it.
कुछ सुनने की तलभ थी,
दिल ही दिल हसीन सपनों से भरी एक नदी थी,
इशारों भरे समझौतों में वो बेशरत प्यार कि बर्नी थी,
उसके हाथों में मेरा हाथ देख, वक़्त की भी साँसें थमी थीं,
इन सबके बीच, बस उस प्यार के इहज़ार की कमी थी,
जिसे सोच कर मेरी दिल की धड़कने भी सहमी थीं,
कुछ ऐसी उनकही सी थी वो प्रेम कथा,
जिसकी दास्ताँ सिर्फ़ ख़ुदा के दरबार में बनी थी।
कुछ बातें अनकही सी, दिल ही दिल दफ़न हो जाती है,
होंटों तक आती है, पर बयाँ नई हो पाती है,
कहो, तो सज्जन्नों को तख़लीफ पहुँचाती है,
ना कहो, तो मनुष्य को अवसाद के चक्रवूयह में फाँसती है,
क्या वर्चस्व है, ऐसे लोकतंत्र का,
क्या महत्व है, इंसानियत से भारी भावनाओं का,
जब दिल ही दिल, चंद अनकही बातें,
मनुष्य का बहुमूलए जीवन, उससे छीन जाती है।
गुमनामी की सरहद पर भटकता,
एक प्यार का प्यासा जीव,
बस एक ख़्याल दौहरता, गुनगुनाता,
पल भर बस यह सोचता,
यह क्या ज़ुल्म है जो समाज को बर्दाश्त नहीं,
यह क्या वाक्य है जो आज की आराधना नहीं,
यह क्या गुण है, जसकी कोई शिक्षा नहीं,
यह कैसा प्यार है, जिसमें कोई बंधन नहीं,
यह कौनसी इंसानियत है, जिसमें कोई मानवता नहीं,
क्या यही है मौजूदि दुनिया, जिसमें स्नेही प्रमाण नहीं,
या यही वो भरम्माण है, जिसमें बसी गुमनामी कहीं।
Sabah Kaur Mann is a young writer and poet based out of Jalandhar. She practices formal poetry and inspirational prose to accentuate societal problems that people face in their day to day life. She prefers to write under a pen name – ‘Genesis’ which is interpreted as the origin of a new beginning.
By Sabah Kaur Mann (Genesis)
I’m writing this to the girl who cried,
I’m sorry you felt like you died.
I know this wouldn’t make it fine,
So forgive me if I crossed a line.
I see you waiting after all this time,
With no one sparing you a single time.
I know you went through a terrible life,
Believe me you’ll get through this strife.
I know my words seem like a lie,
But these horrible times will surely die.
You will soon bloom like the Queen-of-the-Night,
And will positively get through this plight.
The girl who cried was once my name,
But sadly no one told me the same.
I died each night, each time, each day,
But I couldn’t ever follow this way.
So save yourself it’s all I ask,
Don’t burden yourself with every task.
Just be yourself and dry your tears,
Scream and let go of all your fears.
By Sabah Kaur Mann (Genesis)
You can be the wisp,
or you can be the storm.
It might be rough,
yet you needn’t conform.
They might try to thaw,
from ice to ash.
If that flays you raw,
try not to crash.
No need to dry,
those tears you hide.
Whenever you cry,
remember, it’s just a tide.
You are yourself,
no change required.
They can’t put you on a shelf,
you aren’t some ‘thing’ acquired.
By Sabah Kaur Mann (Genesis)
Welcome to the world,
Where terror isn’t a crime.
So many people have hurled,
Somehow, nothing changed over time.
I’m puffed-up and proud,
To call myself an army brat.
I stand out in a crowd,
No matter where I’m at.
See, everyone in our nation,
Can sleep a peaceful sleep.
Because my father at his station,
Makes sure that we do not weep.
Yet, bigoted politicians,
Do not seem to care.
They have made it their missions,
To use words to ensnare.
They negotiate with the enemies,
And always protect their skin.
Feeding on our amenities,
They betray their own kin.
We wished those unfulfilled words of honour,
Become a wisp of hope.
Patriotism lost its valour,
And somehow meant a necklace of rope.
By Sabah Kaur Mann (Genesis)
How many women believe,
That the wrongs happening to them are right?
How many women will grieve,
For the events that happen to them every night?
I’m not telling you to take it,
Nor fake it and say, “It’s alright”.
I’m asking you to not just sit,
And act like it’s not a problem just cause it’s out of sight.
Nobody has the right to tell you what to do,
Nor to tell you what to wear.
They can’t push their opinion on you,
And then snatch away your air.
There is no one else who holds you hostage,
Except your own mind,
Your life is a book, write your own page,
You never know just how much you will find.
By Sabah Kaur Mann (Genesis)
I tried to be sugar,
In a world full of spice.
The world threw a dagger,
Cause I tried to be nice.
I tried to be a friend,
In a world filled with hate.
The world asked me to end,
Cause I tried to depend on fate.
I tried to be different,
In a world so mundane.
The world became a parent,
Cause I didn’t try to be the same.
I tried to be the best,
In a world that held me back.
The world pointed out to the rest,
Everything I ever did lack.
I tried to be myself,
In a world as fake as ours.
The world put me on the highest shelf,
And then left me there for hours.
By Sabah Kaur Mann (Genesis)
Lost in the fields of my own mind,
I drown in the river of regret.
My essence somehow I cannot find,
Millions cause me to fret.
And in those fields I find no light,
Just darkness all around.
And in those days I lose my might,
And I realise I’m nowhere to be found.
The river rushes by so fast,
My regrets I see flowing by.
And sometimes I drown in at last,
Still asking the question – Why?
My essence lost bit by bit,
A trade with the devil it seems.
And nothing ever seems to fit,
Yet somehow I drown my screams.
I care for some who never care,
I fret and fret for an empty face.
My love I somehow cannot share,
With those who keep changing their pace.
Be it fields or rivers,
My essence or my mind.
In the end I remember,
People cannot always be kind.
" Young Writers' Collective" 