Poetic and Prosaic Writeups

  The Modern Monster   At times, I become scared; I find my shadow a ghost; Modernity has indeed dared Too much due to its boast.   I fail to recognise The face in the mirror; I fail to patronise Myself, full of horror.   Wherever I put my glance, I find all things banal; Lunacy seems to dance, Throwing muck from the canal.   Life’s become full of decay; In fact, it’s growing on and on; Nights seem brighter than a day; All morality has gone, aye, gone.   Whenever I become nostalgic, The rugged reality hurts even more; I do feel, find life tragic And become wounded and full of gore.   The wind has been full, too full, Full of venom everywhere; The social greyhounds drool, yes, drool; Peace becomes too much rare.   Ethics have departed long ago; And we applaud sometimes! How? This life is a truly tragic show That is going on so well now.   How can we become so devoid? T...

  There must be light; There ought to be shade; Amidst life’s every fight, We’re hurt with life’s blade.   We fall into the ditch of despair; Still, this life goes on and on; Weal and woe is nothing rare; There must be shower and the sun.   It’s too tough to become a stoic; We oscillate like a pendulum; A daredevil is not heroic; A timid has to pay every sum.   There must be loss; There ought to be gain; Still, trust not in gloss; Else, it might always rain.   Being made of flesh and blood, We endeavour to defy destiny; It can bring drought, can bring flood; Fortune rules his tyranny.   We, sometimes, get too weary; We, sometimes, give up hope; Well, life must be dreary; We must learn how to cope.   Who can foretell our future? We need to become calm; This society is a vulture; This life feels too humdrum.   How to add some variety? We need some spices, for sure; There is sa...

It’s been a long while that I haven’t posted any writing. However, today I’ve shared one of my poems with you all. War and Peace is a poem that I penned a few days ago. In this regard, it is supposed to be noted that as long as human civilisation is in the being, we cannot escape from oscillating like a pendulum all day and all night. However, love for mankind can be an effective antidote , I suppose. The poem— War and Peace Sometimes, I do opine To secure, to establish my rights; Peace is an eglantine , Advising to cease the age-old fights. We all become a pensive pendulum Between human rights and pure peace ; This dilemma must, must be overcome; We must, we need, we’ll obtain bliss . In the era of such decadence , We need to claim our rights ; Still, bereft of over-confidence, We can cease our prolonged fights. We do, we do need an antidote; What can it be then? What? Let’s not become a stupid scapegoat ; We must try none to hurt. As long as we all do exi...