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...

  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...

A few words before we go through the poem called ‘Numbness’: Let us all open our discussion with the legendary proverb that “Cowards die many times before their deaths…” Likewise, in this world of decay, disgrace and degeneration, we all are supposedly living our death. That is to say, our corporal bodies are alive, but our within has been slaughtered long ago. Well, who did so? Yes, we did it on our own. Thanks to our great conscience and civilised intelligence, we all are alive, or should we say, we are living and loving our death? Well, we have no option, for sure. Hence, we are bound to live and love our death. We all made it on our own. The consequences are, therefore, supposed to be endured by us alone then. Day by day, we are getting infected with more and more numbness in all respects. We reap what we sow, right? The poem—‘Numbness’ My heart felt so numb That I had to die, I had to, Before death, becoming dumb, In a trance to seek what’s true.   Everything...