It rains when I cry; it shines when I smile. When I rage, there’s a storm, and when I’m in peace, the cloudless sky takes its place. On rare occasions when I grant a wish, I send a star down there. I hope you receive it all…
I grant others their wishes, but what about mine? No-one ever asked about my wish. My wish is to remain unknown and ambiguous forever. And, for my wish to be fulfilled, you must send your stars up here too…
keeping her head up high, even in the time of suffering.
She always wanted to be white,
to be a symbol of peace, not spite,
but it was their mistake,
who painted her golden, and dared the beasts to wake.
The beasts ruled, and slaughtered her,
but did the fighters deter?
The united birdlings fought and raged,
and finally, she was uncaged.
Now, spreading her glorious wings,
India, the golden bird, ascends and sings,
to a billion peoples’ heartbeats and tunes,
and reaches her way to the moon,
– Kamya Seervi
A few days ago, I came across an online national level patriotic poem competition, and I knew I wanted to participate. The deadline for submission was the same day, so I quickly opened Word and started typing whatever came to my mind. I didn’t have enough time… This is all I could come up with. I wasn’t sure if it’s good enough (of course, I was writing a patriotic poem, I had to make sure), but then I didn’t have more time to think, so I submitted this. I hope you like it.
Covered in parched leaves and twigs, the glimmering golden key lay there in isolation. It shone into the girl’s pearl-like eyes, but couldn’t allure her. The key could lead her to open a magical door, but she decided to open the door of nostalgia instead. She chose to pick the grimy pinecone, that reminded her of her lovely mother, who would always pick pinecones during their long walks. Whenever the little girl looked at her picking them, she would be curious to know what’s special about them. She once asked her mum why she picked pinecones, and her mother smiled at her saying, “Sometimes, we just need to stop for a moment and pay attention to the beauty that surrounds us.”
Everyone’s perception of beauty is different. According to the girl, the grimy pinecone was beauty, not the golden key, because it reminisced some old memories of her late mother and gave her a sense of belonging.
This is my attempt at a picture prompt. I actually wrote this for a school activity, and decided to post it here. What do you all think? What is beauty to you?
I enjoy the process of unlearning the inappropriate,
And getting the chance to know the reality, by opening a new gate.
For all this time, I had been longing to know life’s meaning,
I realized it’s meaningless, and what matters is I’m breathing.
People waste their whole life trying to find a purpose,
And make their life a living circus.
What they don’t realize is that their purpose is to be created,
By them, in order to do what has been awaited.
I don’t know, if I should do something out of the box,
And break the cycle, which could lead to a reaction that’s redox.
But I know for sure, that I don’t want to be that inhuman being,
Who’s drifting away from nature and its well-being.
I want to be appropriate in this ambiguous world,
And be far away from the deleterious underworld.
– Kamya Seervi
This is a compilation of my random thoughts from last week. I hope you all learn something from it, or teach me something. I wrote my heart out in this, so please do tell me if you liked it, and please don’t hesitate to give any kind of feedback if you wish to.