When someone is hostileI often thinkwhat did I doin a previous lifetimeto leave this woundthat makes them rile? The ground beneath my feetmoves to lay barea throbbing secret-it can become a quake-the marks humans leaveare most often scars I pray to the oceanforgive our sinsburied in your depthsleash the tsunamisyou nurse underneath the sky sheds … Continue reading Sacrilege
“One thousand snails were needed to yield 1.4 grammes of dye. These snails oozed a yellow fluid, which, when exposed to light, turned a brilliant shade of purple. Tyrean purple became the royal colour due to its high cost.” “Why did they not mix red and blue to create the colour?” Colour-mixing, as we know … Continue reading Colours
“It feels good to be set up as a trap. But it does not feel good when no one falls in the trap.” “Let’s change our names. Maybe we have already gained notoriety.” “They must have flashed our faces on news channels too.” “Change the caps, colour on your hair and pull your cheeks in.” … Continue reading Anti-national
stories in the starstake light years to reachI contemplatetheir entrenchmentin midnight blue skies It washes indigo stainson my soulto reveal a coreblending with starsas they would look now hope igniteswhere dawn blendswith fading moonlight Quadrille Monday at dVerse
stretch fabriccreate a backdropdummy treesnow awaitcharacters to enact rolesscripts of destiny when actorsdisappear; all setsdismantledstories etchedon the ground will incubateerupting earthquakes What Do You See #277
In the face of adversity, they stand tall, unyielding, their reputation a fortress unassailable. Their every action, a reflection of an inner light, guides others through the darkest times. Their paths are marked by honesty and truth imprints, leaving inspirational trails for those who follow. In a world where reputations often falter, theirs remains untarnished. … Continue reading Untarnished
I tried my hand at a folk-art form called Pichhwai from Rajasthan in India that draws inspiration from nature. Showcase and Share
Lost in time, a ghostly guise,Seeking truth through vacant eyes.Yet in the void, a spark may spread,Even in a headless head. Photo Challenge #555
I'll talk about guineas, not pennies. My mother often spoke of Guineas – gold coins used as currency during British rule. She came from a landowner (zamindar) family. Her grandparents packed guineas in metal pots and hid them between brick walls. She also mentioned slabs of gold and silver-coated decorations on arched doors and ceilings. … Continue reading Guineas
now I know what really got to methose demons of yore that don't let me breathedark shadows so often surround my thoughts critical voices suffocated methey wanted me frozen in moulds or wreathsnow I know what really got to methose demons of yore that don't let me breathe Thoughts are just branches of a worn-out … Continue reading Outburst
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