Poetic and Prosaic Writeups

  I got crashed; I became crashed; There must be some reason; I endured when I was lashed; Still, all slandered me of treason.   I get flown by the Pilot, Who, too, succumbed with me; Tooth and nail he had fought, But who won was destiny.   It’s a world that’s too strange, Of course, in the negative way; Slaughter is beyond my range; I can’t even think of it any day.   Sometimes, I become free, Free to have a vivid voice; None can escape from destiny That snatches our each rejoice.   None ever thank me for my aid, When they approach their destination; In dire disgrace I am laid; Well, there’s no procrastination.   I lost my all; I lost my life; I failed to land on London; Humanity’s too full of strife; All, all become too undone.   How could I save them all? I, too, had to die in the crash; I took off; then I did fall; Then occurred the brutal lash.   It’s too easy to blame on m...

  A Few Words It’s an uncanny world. The more we do care for the others, the more care they will desire. This goes on. We try to meet the expectations. However, one very day, we might find out the saturation point when we must, when we ought to be dawned. Nothing remains the same. The turning tables bring weal and woe. As soon as we understand it, the better we can be able to enjoy our life. Yes, this world is uncanny to the utmost. Hence, we should never think of any reciprocation. Instead, we all must keep it in mind that we came here alone; likewise, we all must live on our own; finally, we all will have to step out of this world without anybody’s care as well. However, the essential point is that if you try to help a person or care for him or her, never think to be reciprocated, because this world is full of darkness in spite of the day-lamp in the sky, and the moon and the stars at night. Hence, we can illuminate our own world with our tireless efforts to make the world full...

  This world is too, too full of illusion. Well, it is too easy when we say so, but it is actually too much tough for any of us to admit it from the very core of our within. Days go by, years roll away; still, we cannot get respite from such snares here; we fall in love with these instead. However, the sooner we come to learn the truth, the better. Nevertheless, we all are humans, made of flesh and blood. Hence, although it sounds so smart, we actually become even unsmarter than we used to be before. It does pain a lot. The poem—‘The Tolling Knell’   No more shall I irritate; I promise you this; This world does asphyxiate; That world’s full of bliss.   It’s time for me, it’s time for me To be off, to be off; That world does, does beckon me; No more, please, be in sob.   Bid me farewell, bid me farewell; Bid adieu in smile; Tolls my knell, hark, there tolls my knell, Bereft of any guile.   I’m done with my role; It’s time for m...