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21st_century_icarus

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My Attitude is Fire. I am Warm to You and I can Burn you down if you're Wrong. Not Everyone has a Attitude that Speaks Volumes of Intelligence. An Attitude with Brain is Much more of Value and Class than Brainless Attit

My Attitude is Fire. I am Warm to You and I can Burn you down if you're Wrong. Not Everyone has a Attitude that Speaks Volumes of Intelligence. An Attitude with Brain is Much more of Value and Class than Brainless Attit

Somya Baranwal

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The Singer (Arijit Singh) Please read caption *The Singer (Arijit Singh)* You stood up there Singing your tune In the candlelit Fully packed room You wouldn’t open your eyes

The Singer (Arijit Singh) Please read caption *The Singer (Arijit Singh)* You stood up there Singing your tune In the candlelit Fully packed room You wouldn’t open your eyes

Somya Baranwal

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Please read in caption The Singer You stood up there Singing your tune In the candlelit Fully packed room

Please read in caption The Singer You stood up there Singing your tune In the candlelit Fully packed room

Smruti Ranjan Mohanty

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SOMETHING I LOOK AT-93 BY-SMRUTI RANJAN MOHANTY Wars end in defeats Both the victor and vanquished suffer alike, incurring loses huge and unacceptable, causing irreparable damage to humanity and its collective conscience, and both having bleeding wounds deep inside that can't be shown to anyone else. In its womb grow the seeds of future wars In it manifests man's innate urge to subjugate In it a vivid display of ego and animosity, a naked parade of hatred and jealousy, a blatant esire to remain at the top in an unequal world of squalor and poverty. The world wars tell it all The victory of pride and greed, emotions and passions, ego and vanity over rationality and peace and all that makes the world such a beautiful place to live in. The darkest chapter of human history speaks volumes of man, his craving for identity, a place unmatched and the sheer madness to achieve it by all means. Hiroshima bears testimony to the victory of forces inimical to man and his development It tells how sad and pathetic life can be, how man and his madness can put an end to everything he has lovingly built and nourished. Hiroshima witnessed the harrowing tales of many, their wounded ego and shattered life, the poignant deaths of thousands who were yet to see the world and live a life and those who survived death and endured a life more pathetic and horrible than dying death hundred times. Hiroshima speaks emphatically The world can ill afford another tragedy We are to understand its language, keep the wound alive and bleeding to see and reassess it time and again. We are the same as we were then having the same instincts, pride, ego and jealousy flowing in our artery and vein. Hardly we understand the language of peace and love, but for the sake of our own survival we are to restrain our hunger for more power and territory, put an end to the arms race and make the world a better place to live, love and relinquish. ©Smruti Ranjan Mohanty 4.8.2018 #SOMETHING I LOOK AT-93 BY-SMRUTI RANJAN MOHANTY Wars end in defeats Both the victor and vanquished suffer alike, incurring loses huge and

SOMETHING I LOOK AT-93 BY-SMRUTI RANJAN MOHANTY Wars end in defeats Both the victor and vanquished suffer alike, incurring loses huge and unacceptable, causing irreparable damage to humanity and its collective conscience, and both having bleeding wounds deep inside that can't be shown to anyone else. In its womb grow the seeds of future wars In it manifests man's innate urge to subjugate In it a vivid display of ego and animosity, a naked parade of hatred and jealousy, a blatant esire to remain at the top in an unequal world of squalor and poverty. The world wars tell it all The victory of pride and greed, emotions and passions, ego and vanity over rationality and peace and all that makes the world such a beautiful place to live in. The darkest chapter of human history speaks volumes of man, his craving for identity, a place unmatched and the sheer madness to achieve it by all means. Hiroshima bears testimony to the victory of forces inimical to man and his development It tells how sad and pathetic life can be, how man and his madness can put an end to everything he has lovingly built and nourished. Hiroshima witnessed the harrowing tales of many, their wounded ego and shattered life, the poignant deaths of thousands who were yet to see the world and live a life and those who survived death and endured a life more pathetic and horrible than dying death hundred times. Hiroshima speaks emphatically The world can ill afford another tragedy We are to understand its language, keep the wound alive and bleeding to see and reassess it time and again. We are the same as we were then having the same instincts, pride, ego and jealousy flowing in our artery and vein. Hardly we understand the language of peace and love, but for the sake of our own survival we are to restrain our hunger for more power and territory, put an end to the arms race and make the world a better place to live, love and relinquish. ©Smruti Ranjan Mohanty 4.8.2018 #SOMETHING I LOOK AT-93 BY-SMRUTI RANJAN MOHANTY Wars end in defeats Both the victor and vanquished suffer alike, incurring loses huge and

Anuj Jain

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Worddiction Dear Worddiction It was with trepidation and invitaion by dear Shital Jindal that I entered this month long competition hosted by you. Anxio

Worddiction Dear Worddiction It was with trepidation and invitaion by dear Shital Jindal that I entered this month long competition hosted by you. Anxio

Smruti Ranjan Mohanty

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SOMETHING I LOOK AT-51 BY-SMRUTI RANJAN MOHANTY The crumbling relics of the bygone days tell it all, the exploitation of man by man, one carrying another on his shoulder to live and make a living for those he loves. The deserted look of the street in yesteryears speaks volumes of imperialism at its peak with people hardly daring to come out in open, what to raise their voice of thunder? Everything remained the same except the glittering outer line, it is same, a lonely man's lone walk in a crowded street. We are the same gentlemen as we were hundred years back with gloomy eyes and the same horrified looks on our face Still, we digest and tolerate injustice, still hesitant and uncomfortable we are to raise our voice and call a spade a spade, still imperialism in a new guise, the indomitable desire of man to subjugate, to build his castle on others blood and sweat. Still economic disparity and segmented division of society, still one carrying the other on his shoulder to make his both ends meet with naked self-interest and parochial loyalties and make belief identities eating the very vitals of the society. Things have changed but hardly there is any change in us. The wind of change touching us without affecting our attitude towards life and others with whom we live and share not this so beautiful world of ours. copyright@smrutiranjan 20.8.2017 #SOMETHING I LOOK AT-51 BY-SMRUTI RANJAN MOHANTY The crumbling relics of the bygone days tell it all, the exploitation of man by man, one

SOMETHING I LOOK AT-51 BY-SMRUTI RANJAN MOHANTY The crumbling relics of the bygone days tell it all, the exploitation of man by man, one carrying another on his shoulder to live and make a living for those he loves. The deserted look of the street in yesteryears speaks volumes of imperialism at its peak with people hardly daring to come out in open, what to raise their voice of thunder? Everything remained the same except the glittering outer line, it is same, a lonely man's lone walk in a crowded street. We are the same gentlemen as we were hundred years back with gloomy eyes and the same horrified looks on our face Still, we digest and tolerate injustice, still hesitant and uncomfortable we are to raise our voice and call a spade a spade, still imperialism in a new guise, the indomitable desire of man to subjugate, to build his castle on others blood and sweat. Still economic disparity and segmented division of society, still one carrying the other on his shoulder to make his both ends meet with naked self-interest and parochial loyalties and make belief identities eating the very vitals of the society. Things have changed but hardly there is any change in us. The wind of change touching us without affecting our attitude towards life and others with whom we live and share not this so beautiful world of ours. copyright@smrutiranjan 20.8.2017 #SOMETHING I LOOK AT-51 BY-SMRUTI RANJAN MOHANTY The crumbling relics of the bygone days tell it all, the exploitation of man by man, one

Thomas Oluwatosin

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VOICES I In the planet called earth, Humans believe that the staff we carry lies in the sight we behold and the voices we heed to. We mount

VOICES I In the planet called earth, Humans believe that the staff we carry lies in the sight we behold and the voices we heed to. We mount

CalmKazi

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अब वो दिन है जब मुझे ऐसा लगता है मानो वो जूनून भी ख्वाब का एक हिस्सा है खुश रहो तुम यही मेरी दुआ बाकी है क्यूंकि अब भी मेरे लफ्ज़ नहीं काफी हैं अलविदा कह रहा हूँ एक बार फिर शायद मुलाक़ात हो न हो ख़त तो नहीं पर यही कुछ नज्में हैं बाकी उम्मीद है इनसे तुम्हे ख़ता न हो जश्न है तुम्हारा मैं नहीं हूँ फिर वहां ख़ुशी में तुम्हारी अब शरीक होने लायक नहीं याद रखो तो शायद कुछ सुकून मिले इस तन्हाई में अब और कोई बाकी नहीं One of the earliest few poetries I wrote, this one speaks of all my thoughts of remorse and emptiness away from aloved one. I hope it speaks

अब वो दिन है जब मुझे ऐसा लगता है मानो वो जूनून भी ख्वाब का एक हिस्सा है खुश रहो तुम यही मेरी दुआ बाकी है क्यूंकि अब भी मेरे लफ्ज़ नहीं काफी हैं अलविदा कह रहा हूँ एक बार फिर शायद मुलाक़ात हो न हो ख़त तो नहीं पर यही कुछ नज्में हैं बाकी उम्मीद है इनसे तुम्हे ख़ता न हो जश्न है तुम्हारा मैं नहीं हूँ फिर वहां ख़ुशी में तुम्हारी अब शरीक होने लायक नहीं याद रखो तो शायद कुछ सुकून मिले इस तन्हाई में अब और कोई बाकी नहीं One of the earliest few poetries I wrote, this one speaks of all my thoughts of remorse and emptiness away from aloved one. I hope it speaks

Zumi

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// Rain Speaks About Unspoken Tears // The rain speaks of tears unheard, The pitter-patter sound creates a pattern, It tatters the roof and flatters the soil, spreading petrichor. The sounds are the words of the rain, When the clouds cry their sweet cry. //Caption // Rain Speaks About Unspoken Tears // The rain speaks of tears unheard, The pitter-patter sound creates a pattern, It tatters the roof a

// Rain Speaks About Unspoken Tears // The rain speaks of tears unheard, The pitter-patter sound creates a pattern, It tatters the roof and flatters the soil, spreading petrichor. The sounds are the words of the rain, When the clouds cry their sweet cry. //Caption // Rain Speaks About Unspoken Tears // The rain speaks of tears unheard, The pitter-patter sound creates a pattern, It tatters the roof a

Diwa

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Sixty paltry seconds make a minute; Another sixty minutes produce an hour; Twenty four hours, a day; And we all know that seven days Shall always comprise a week. (CAPTION) "Minutes And Seconds" Sixty paltry seconds make a minute; Another sixty minutes produce an hour; Twenty four hours, a day; And we all know

Sixty paltry seconds make a minute; Another sixty minutes produce an hour; Twenty four hours, a day; And we all know that seven days Shall always comprise a week. (CAPTION) "Minutes And Seconds" Sixty paltry seconds make a minute; Another sixty minutes produce an hour; Twenty four hours, a day; And we all know