#daadisbae

212 posts
  • lovethatneverfades 3h

    Our submission to the picture prompt by daadi
    With the guy who never fails to put a smile on others face @kehta_hai_joker ❤️ and a fabulous writer, now a sister @fleeing_fossil��

    We wrote a piece on a aging wife's insecurity about not being good enough for her husband,
    a husband who's still deep in love with her...
    And Love itself commenting how the couple became evergreen.
    -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    @kehta_hai_joker AS THE WIFE

    You put your lips gently on my forehead
    Bless my being with a comforting peck
    My wrinkled face fits perfectly in your palm
    It lights up a spark, still make my tempest calm
    While I've grown old, you've grown charming
    My walls are creeping,my dreams and reality colliding
    Our lives have been spent together, but is that enough
    My supple skin has now turned rough
    Do you still remember our vows like I do
    Darling I'm still on for forever, are you too
    Am I staring down an unavoidable slippery slope
    Has My fantasy ended as my heart still sings songs of hope.

    @fleeing_fossil AS THE HUSBAND

    Every dawn as you wake me up, I experience a sense of euphoria just as the mist on fresh foliage does as it is skimmed by the first ray of soaring sun. That sweet voice of yours lacquers my skies with honey hues. The veracious warmth in your eyes holds an apricity like a sweater that keeps me cozy not just in the winters. Your scented breath is a soothing zephyr to my forehead drizzled with mild sweat. Your pulchritudinous smile has mastered the art of re-painting my daily blues with rainbows. That delicious sunny marmalade you spread on my bread finely parallels with our sour and sweet memories. Your essence has nurtured orchards of love in my heart that would never learn the meaning of mortality.

    In the nights, I see you writing your diary, to be honest, I read it. Not merely once or twice instead everyday. Each nuance you jot is wholly the truth except for the fact that it's not your diary but my biography.

    //And you ask me why I love you?//

    I ain't a poet but let me tell you.

    Doesn't your favorite author say, "if being a kid is about learning how to live then being an adult is about learning how to die.."

    And my theory is a bit related too ..

    //- if being an adult is about learning to die for you, then being geriatric is about craving to die with you. (clasped in each others' arms.)//

    - Forever isn't a myth darling, but we should nurture and protect it as the mother bird does its eggs, and I would do it till my last breath.

    @lovethatneverfades AS LOVE

    I became the idyllic radiance, her eyes emitted everytime she saw him, and in silence he etched me as a unfading memory of hers splattered across the boundless horizon.
    They savoured me and gave me a eternal term which blooms but rarely resides for eternity in the depth of everyone's heart. But both of them, in their own manner personified me like a rare celestial connection. Like a mother longing for her child, clutching tight yet taken care with utmost affection and tenderness

    Grooving in their hearts under the avaitor sky
    Settling between their Unspoken words
    Lanconing behind their authentic smile.
    In silent prose, I swoon in their eyes
    I am the love, held between their breaths
    Forever and ever love, that never fades...


    -----------------------------+++-+++++++++++++-----------------------------
    #pod #mistc #daadisbae #writersnetwork #eyes #sings

    '' Lines in quotes are from Sir Stephen King's Christine. #booksc

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    I want to grow old with you
    I want to die lying in your arms
    I want to grow old with you
    I want to be looking in your eyes
    I want to be there for you, sharing everything you do
    I want to grow old with you
    - westlife

  • kehta_hai_joker 3h

    We wrote a piece on an aging wifes insecurity about not being good enough for her husband,
    a husband's who still deep in love with her,
    And Love itself commenting how the couple became evergreen.

    @kehta_hai_joker as the Wife

    You put your lips gently on my forehead
    Bless my being with a comforting peck
    My wrinkled face fits perfectly in your palm
    It lights up a spark , still makes my tempest calm
    While I've grown old,you've grown charming
    My walls are creeping,my dreams and reality colliding
    Our lives have been spent together,but is that enough
    My supple skin has now turned rough
    Do you still remember our vows like I do
    Darling I'm still on for forever,are you too
    Am I staring down an unavoidable slippery slope
    Has My fantasy ended as my heart still sings songs of hope.

    @fleeing_fossil as the Husband

    Every dawn as you wake me up, I experience a sense of euphoria just as the mist on fresh foliage does as it is skimmed by the first ray of soaring sun. That sweet voice of yours lacquers my skies with honey hues. The veracious warmth in your eyes holds an apricity like a sweater that keeps me cozy not just in the winters. Your scented breath is a soothing zephyr to my forehead drizzled with mild sweat. Your pulchritudinous smile has mastered the art of re-painting my daily blues with rainbows. That delicious sunny marmalade you spread on my bread finely parallels with our sour and sweet memories. Your essence has nurtured orchards of love in my heart that would never learn the meaning of mortality.

    In the nights, I see you writing your diary, to be honest, I read it. Not merely once or twice instead everyday. Each nuance you jot is wholly the truth except for the fact that it's not your diary but my biography.

    //And you ask me why I love you?//

    I ain't a poet but let me tell you.

    Doesn't your favorite author say, "if being a kid is about learning how to live then being an adult is about learning how to die"?

    And my theory is a bit related too ..

    //- if being an adult is about learning to die for you, then being geriatric is about craving to die with you. (clasped in each others' arms.)//

    - Forever isn't a myth darling, but we should nurture and protect it as the mother bird does its eggs, and I would do it till my last breath.

    @lovethatneverfades as love

    I became the idyllic radiance, her eyes emitted everytime she saw him, and in silence he etched me as a unfading memory of hers splattered across the boundless horizon.
    They savoured me and gave me a eternal term which blooms but rarely resides for eternity in the depth of everyone's heart. But both of them, in their own manner personified me like a rare celestial connection. Like a mother longing for her child, clutching tight yet taken care with utmost affection and tenderness

    Grooving in their hearts under the avaitor sky
    Settling between their Unspoken words
    Lanconing behind their authentic smile.
    In silent prose, I swoon in their eyes
    I am the love, held between their breaths
    Forever and ever love, that never fades

    #daadisbae #mistc #sings #eyes #bookc #readthisJ

    Lines in ""-"" from Sir Stephen King's Christine.

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    .

    //you touch these
    Tired eyes
    of mine
    And map
    my face out
    Line by line
    And somehow
    growing old
    Feels fine
    :The Script-I'm Yours//

  • fleeing_fossil 4h

    #daadisbae #mistc #sings #eyes #bookc #readthisJ #genuine_readers

    Relish the emotion of @lovethatneverfades and passion of @kehta_hai_joker and ignore my silliness ����


    We wrote a piece on a aging wife's insecurity about not being good enough for her husband,
    a husband who's still deep in love with her...
    And Love itself commenting how the couple became evergreen.

    KEHTA HAI JOKER AS THE WIFE

    You put your lips gently on my forehead
    Bless my being with a comforting peck
    My wrinkled face fits perfectly in your palm
    It lights up a spark, still make my tempest calm
    While I've grown old, you've grown charming
    My walls are creeping,my dreams and reality colliding
    Our lives have been spent together, but is that enough
    My supple skin has now turned rough
    Do you still remember our vows like I do
    Darling I'm still on for forever, are you too
    Am I staring down an unavoidable slippery slope
    Has My fantasy has ended as my heart still sings songs of hope.

    FLEEING_FOSSIL AS THE HUSBAND

    Every dawn as you wake me up, I experience a sense of euphoria just as the mist on fresh foliage does as it is skimmed by the first ray of soaring sun. That sweet voice of yours lacquers my skies with honey hues. The veracious warmth in your eyes holds an apricity like a sweater that keeps me cozy not just in the winters. Your scented breath is a soothing zephyr to my forehead drizzled with mild sweat. Your pulchritudinous smile has mastered the art of re-painting my daily blues with rainbows. That delicious sunny marmalade you spread on my bread finely parallels with our sour and sweet memories. Your essence has nurtured orchards of love in my heart that would never learn the meaning of mortality.

    In the nights, I see you writing your diary, to be honest, I read it. Not merely once or twice instead everyday. Each nuance you jot is wholly the truth except for the fact that it's not your diary but my biography.

    //And you ask me why I love you?//

    I ain't a poet but let me tell you.

    Doesn't your favorite author say, "if being a kid is about learning how to live then being an adult is about learning how to die.."

    And my theory is a bit related too ..

    //- if being an adult is about learning to die for you, then being geriatric is about craving to die with you. (clasped in each others' arms.)//

    - Forever isn't a myth darling, but we should nurture and protect it as the mother bird does its eggs, and I would do it till my last breath.

    LOVETHATNEVERFADES AS LOVE

    I became the idyllic radiance, her eyes emitted everytime she saw him, and in silence he etched me as a timeless memory of hers splattered across the boundless horizon.
    They savoured me and gave me a eternal term which blooms but rarely resides for eternity in the depth of everyone's heart. But both of them, in their own manner personified me like a rare celestial connection. Like a mother longing for her child, clutching tight yet taken care with utmost affection and tenderness

    Grooving in their hearts under the avaitor sky
    Settling between their Unspoken words
    Lanconing behind their authentic smile.
    In silent prose, I swoon in their eyes
    I am the love, held between their breaths
    Forever and ever love, that never fades...

    "....'' Lines from Sir Stephen King's Christine.

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    .

  • saya__ 20h

    • My sixth collab with the most talented @asphodel_

    "I hate you, you know that right?" My eyes strangled beholding the geriatric couple on the other bench.
    "I hate you too my love," said the old man to her lady, with their lips cuddling the soft cotton candy and eyes rolling over the smiles concealed in their verses. I turned my back, maybe because I don't want to see 'us' in them.

    Years back, it was me and him cherishing the grin marked on each other's face, under the same sky, on the same bench inside this park. Today I see dozens of teenage dyads around myself, but my heart lures those old aged like an insect does to nectar. They made it so long together, with the same love and even more. Love isn't bound with the time you walked with each other but how tightly you hold that heart. The feeble string that tied him close to me, detached when I was young. Should I call it the same as 'teenage love' ? Maybe yes, cuz I knew little to get hold of the purity and responsibility of it, in us. He is long gone but I could see him in that old man, caressing his soulmate. That bench still recites our name but scoffingly, we're no more 'us'.

    //Maybe, not everybody is lucky enough to walk miles together until the hair gets grey. Not all golden years are booked for souls with dark hue.//

    ©asphodel_

    The way he smirks when he says my name; how when he is near me, I forget to breathe sometimes. I don't want ro ruin his touch, with my mundane motions. Even the slightest gesture of my ribs would scotch our perfect moment, I thought. And I would just lie there, staring at his lips curving towards the stars, enhancing their charm, for me. He never promised to bring me the moon, neither did I craved for it. The brightest star would gleam in the night sky, and I would still be adoring his smile.
    "What happened?" He would ask with a smile.
    "Maybe you know." I shrug and continue glaring.
    His presence felt warmer than my entire woollen wardrobe. And the moment his agile fingers found the gaps betwixt mine; I could sense the void in my soul dwindling along the shore, waving me goodbyes.

    //Maybe forever is a myth, but his contemporary extant beside me, would be enough to weave memories I could cherish forever. Maybe we won't get to grasp our wrinkled, trembling hands but my eyes could still recall our intricate souvenirs for my heart to rejoice in my deathbed.//

    ©saya__

    #daadisbae #wn #pod #septemberspesh #eyes #bookc #readthisJ
    "The way he smirks when he says my name; how when he's near me, I forget to breathe sometimes." ~ From P.S. I Still Love You by Jenny Hans.

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  • mirakee_ki_daadima 1d

    HELLOOO!!!
    FUN TASK #10 IS HERE !!


    [Idk if y'all remember, but in one post I had asked y'all to tell me what type of challenges y'all would like to see more of and collab and word prompts got the max votes, so I'm gonna go with that :) ]

    THIS IS A PICTURE AND COLLAB CHALLENGE!!

    Step 1: Select your collab partner
    ( NOT MORE THAN THREE IN A TEAM. )
    Step 2: Tag your partner(s) and comment below saying "we're in"
    Step 3: Get creative!

    The challenge : Y'all have to together write a poem or a prose or both, on the picture given below.

    *Make sure it's not too long
    *Hindi/English/ Marathi pieces accepted
    *No hate speech/ plagiarism
    *Old posts won't be accepted
    **ONE ENTRY PER TEAM.

    {{MANDATORY HASHTAG: #daadisbae }}

    ENTRY TIME: before 11:59 PM 28th September.

    SUBMISSION TIME : before 11:59 PM 30th September
    ------------------------------------------------

    Will wait for your submissions, Happy writing bacchas!
    Love,
    @mirakee_ki_daadima
    @mirakee_ki_naanima


    TAG AS MANY FRIENDS AS YOU CAN AND SHARE!!!
    ��❤

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    FUN TASK #10

  • _idyllicsoul 3d

    Paradise Unexplored

    Let not my passion overwhelm you

    My desire will burn within

    You are the masterpiece that's too good to be true

    A beauty which I have never seen

    I can vividly remember the first day I saw you

    My heart must have skipped a beat

    I resolved to love you till the last day of recorded time

    I felt as if the world was at my feet

    Every minute,every second, I thought of you, even in my sleep: #sweven

    You are my prized asset who is too priceless for me to keep

    I can rebirth a million times , just to meet you again

    Let us share every moment together- all our joy and all our pain

    Let me taste your tears,let me feel your fears

    Even after seeing you every day from dawn to dusk , I never get bored

    You are the closest thing to perfection that I have seen

    You are a paradise left unexplored.

    #daadisbae#mirakee

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    Paradise unexplored
    AI_M_ BHO_A_


    .

  • jias_wand 4d

    A TRIP TO HELL
    ••◇•••◇•••◇•••◇••
    When you don't want to say goodbye to those dusky clouds,
    When you don't want to visit those roads full of crowds.
    When you think that days are better as dark,
    When you are tired of barking at your own marks.
    That night when you opened the door on an unwanted bell,
    The thing you was waiting for, THE TRIP TO HELL.

    Dancing on my toes,
    Completing the freaking notes.
    Thought i tripped but i bowed,
    Infront of those fucking "heroes",
    It was better to triple among those 'zeroes'.
    Too bad, i made a mistake, well-
    It was just a stop in that TRIP TO HELL.

    The bus starts to move,
    On that regular road that wants a proof.
    Done a lot but in vain,
    Because people never counts those stains,
    Those insane unbearable pains.

    In the end i got nothing,
    But a TRIP TO HELL.
    The bus stops at a permanent stop,
    Saying that "its ur ever after, take or drop "
    ©jias_wand
    ___________________________________________________

    @writersnetwork @mirakee #daadisbae

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    .

    The bus stops at
    a permanent stop,
    Saying that "its ur
    ever after, take or drop "
    ©jias_wand

  • missplato20 5d

    Hey advita, it's quite long but I hope you will like it and thanks for this prompt "orchards and smile " I enjoyed a lot writing on this
    Lots of love for you.
    #ffossil @fleeing_fossil @writersnetwork
    #daadisbae #mirakee

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    Granny's apple orchard

    It's been a long time now, since I visited my home town .
    Recalling those days of early schooling,
    I used to be a fat boy and I was bullied a lot for this. No one liked to sit with me and they often left me alone. I used to sit at first bench because I felt quite safe there. I felt bad but never shared with anyone.
    One day amid the crowd of so many cool kids , a girl named chero came to me, she was one of the most attractive kids, everyone wanted to be her friend. She asked me to sit with her and I agreed instantly, I was quite embarrased but I didn't want to miss a chance to be her friend . While having lunch she took a small box from her bag and handed some candies on my palm.
    She said her granny made her, the candies were soft and melted as I put them on my tongue.
    When the school time was over she accompanied me and at the place where our paths seperated , she asked whether I come for playing in ground or not.
    I told her that I went there everyday but they didn't want me to play with them.
    She said come in the evening, she has something for me.
    I went home, I did my homework and as the clock striked five, I took my ball and ran towards ground. Nothing changed today also they didn't play with me.
    But after half an hour, she showed with her mother, she asked me to join her, I went with her and here we entered a big mesmerising place. A big orchard with sweet scent of apples , nuts and cherries. There was surrounded by chlildren, an old woman with a big smile. That was first time I saw her.
    Everybody was calling her granny. Then she came to me and asked my name I told her I am arjun, she gave me apple toffees and they were soft to melt when you put them on your tongue.
    Soon I got closer to her, like her own grand child, I used to accompany chero everyday to the orchard, it seemed granny used to live there with many old women and it was her only livelihood. She sold them to meet her ends but for children it was free.
    I used to wonder she must have lost her children in some accident, that's why she loved to be surrounded by them.
    Day by day I was getting closer to her and we built a strong bond, I used to share my Feelings with her and i used to tell her how my day went, what I learnt at school. She was always excited about my words. She never made me felt that she was not my real granny.
    But soon we were separated, my dad got transferred to city and we left that place .After that I visited orchard once or twice but soon I lost contact with her.

    Years went, now I completed my high school, I was now most desirable and handsome boy in my school and a very good theatre artist also.
    I reached my college and began to give auditions for films and I was luckily recognised for my talent.
    I am now one of the most desirable and reknown actors.
    Once having lunch in my van, I had an apple pie which made me to remember whole childhood.
    I decided to visit that place, my granny's orchard.
    I reached there and what I found, granny was no longer to welcome me but I came to know that she left a letter for me

    " Dear aru
    I came to know that you are doing good in your career, my child is now an actor, an influencer.
    You were always my favourite, but there is something you never know,
    I haven't lost my children but my children lost me.
    They abandoned their old mother at old age home .
    One day a court notice came that we won a property case and now I am owner of that land, I requested the lawyer to hide this thing from my children and I turned this land in to an orchard for me and my old friends so that we can fill our stomach with food and our lives with smiles but my son came to know about this and he wants me to sell this for his business matters
    I won't let him do this until I am alive but I think I have less time left, I want someone to take care of this after me.
    I don't know what you can do ,but I feel you will do something for me

    A last world for you my child this world is ironical they can adopt babies and children to become parents but no one adopts old abandoned parents to become children.
    Take care my son
    And you were always my favorite
    I missed you a lot
    And I love watching you"

    As soon as I read this, I went for a search , to look for granny's son.
    And I got to know that he was having a big loss in his business.

    I proposed him to sell that orchard to me at a price four times than it's market price.
    He agreed we signed the papers and I got my granny's orchard again
    Children made it echo once again with smiles.

    I renamed it " Orchards and smiles"

    Now it was once again children's favourite place to visit and my granny must be happy to see this.

    The only thing left was that girl , chero who changed my life.

    I need to find her

    To be continued...
    ©missplato20

  • the_speccy_outsider 1w

    Time doesn't stop for anyone. Some are chasing it, some are running away from it. An ironical being, for sure. Creating dichotomy while it slithers betwixt the passage of days, weeks and years.

    Time is like music, an inebriating cocktail of mellifluous melancholia and dolent divinity.

    I often feel Time can be a miracle!
    That vintage chair in the library reminds me of the magical times. Where I'd sit for hours listening to vinyls of old soulful classics, that Time brought me. Showering pristine saudade of melody. Making me believe that Time is a gift to mankind, that helped in its evolution.

    But Time can also be a disaster!
    As it is responsible for creating a paradoxical thing, none other than Memory. Memory and Time are each other's muse. When one drinks the concoction of it, they either get a bitter taste or a sweet one. Something that is out of their control. Memories give Time the power it requires, over a being. Thus, making it the undisputed master.

    Time loves to play with people. Either by gifting them an abundant part of itself, or by snatching away whatever is left of it with them. An unscrupulously precarious affair, that it dons as a proud attribute. Making it superior to every other facet of Life. I guess, Life married Time. To take care of its offsprings. Rewarding and punishing them according to their respective deeds. A perfect combination it is though. And I salute Life for it. Heartily!

    Time
    Doesn't stop
    Can't be seen
    None can possess
    Inspite that, controls the strings of our lives

    ©the_speccy_outsider

    #questionku #MondayMantras #furniture #soul #PoetryWednesday #miracle #daadisbae

    Picture credits: To the rightful owner.

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    Time

    Some claim they have
    Rest are chasing it
    Can someone possess time?

  • missplato20 1w

    Dear Mom


    I am here in your room, neat and clean , everything well placed and I hope you are good there. Mom ,you remember I used to call you forgetful and many a times I shouted at you for misplacing my things , Now I regret ma, I regret for my words but I can't amend now.

    I remember that day when I was breaking in your arms, and you hugged me and said he will be back and he will worth my love and after it you asked my last wish, I regret my answer mom, I answered "I want him back " and trying to hide your pain and tears, you laughed and said, " You changed a lot Meera when you were small kid you prayed to god that my last wish is to take my mumma on world trip, but I am ready to sacrifice my tour for my daughter's love". You left me dumbstruck mom.

    You remember mom they used to complain about me, they said your girl is too open and she stay out at night for long and you shut them up " She is my girl, full of confidence and she knows martial arts too , if someone dare to touch her she gonna show them their right place"

    You were awesome mom, always want to learn, always enthusiastic about my little things, You remember mom
    I was in 10 th standard and teacher asked us to write a poem I wrote on you but no rhythm, no metaphors , just a plain string of words, my teacher didn't praise me, I came home I cried and I behaved a lot childish that day but you said " You are my poetry, you are my melody, everything about meera is soothing for me " , you always left me speechless mom.


    Soon, your memories began to fade, many characters vanished off your mind, and you were forgetful about your day to day life, your screams, your collapse, your forgetting dad and everybody, it was no less than a nightmare mom. I regret calling you forgetful. You were always punctual mom, you were always on time, the last day you asked doctor, "where is meera?"

    You gave me a hope mom but you didn't recognize me, you said "she must be back from school and hungry, I need to feed her, she can't handle hunger".

    Mom, my whimper remain unheard because meera was now a college going , so called stubborn, adamant, careless girl not your school going mom's favourite , who used to tell her mom her long day details and her fights.

    I regret now , god listened to you mom Rihan felt sorry, but mom your girl is not weak and she is still her mom's favourite and my last wish is still void mom because I have everything, money, time, visa but all I miss is you mom.

    My favorite place to visit is my mom's room, her saree, her watch, her kitchen and her scent which make me feel , I am close to you mom.

    You know mom what's a good compliment for me now, " You have you mother's genes and you are just like her".

    Mom here's my try for you

    Beautiful like a pearl
    Glittering golden curls
    Gullible like a child
    Sometimes getting angry mild

    Her laughter echoed home
    She was my smiling mom
    Her heart was kind and warm
    My dad' s love , both soft and firm

    Now she is too far
    May be a star
    I stare at her in night
    Feeling her love in starry light

    Love was colgone of her life
    A doting mother always
    And a caring , loving wife


    Miss you mom
    And I am taking care of dad
    Yours always chaos making but strong girl

    Meera
    ©missplato20

  • rusha_c 1w

    #daadisbae #writersnetwork #mirakee #pod
    __________________________________________________
    WORD USED : QUIETUS

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    We often fail to stitch our lives intricately. They usually look like messy mounds of cloth darned together but that doesn't mean we should put quietus on our faith to be flawless.


    Flaws are what makes us one of a kind (unique), and perfection being the perfect myth always keep us on our toes.


    The mere idea of perfection is based on standards, how well can a person perform in a certain task, and even the higher standards is also a creation of certain humans only, who by the way possess some flaws too.


    We can't deny that hardwork and the will to improve is a matter of appreciation, but what we have to understand is that, we have to create our own possibilities, we have to create our own paths rather than following someone else's.


    /Being unique is sane, being different is always okay .....just believe in yourself .....and keep going and keep making your own intricate designs with limitless flaws./

    ©rusha_c

  • anugraha_99 1w

    WRITER

    Countenance, stoic,
    Bleeding a potpourri of feelings,
    Incessant self- expression,
    Adorned with little gem like words,
    Zealously inking an influence,
    // A writer is a wizard, magically conjuring a tale,
    Effervescent with passion and bursting with emotions.//

    Words weakening,
    Thoughts thwarting,
    Ideas crawling away,
    Mind numbing,
    Falling into a deep gorge of frenzy,
    Losing self into an ocean of the quotidian,
    But soon rising to revive lexicons once dead,
    //A writer is a warrior, conquering the quietus of banality,
    When plummeted into an abyss of no imagination.//

    © anugraha_99
    _________________________________________________________

    #daadisbae #picturec #writersnetwork #daadigotyourback
    #mirakee #genuine_readers #pod

    @mirakee @writersnetwork @writersbay @mirakee_ki_daadima @mirakee_ki_naanima

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    WRITER

    A writer is a warrior, conquering the quietus of banality,
    When plummeted into an abyss of no imagination.

    (Refer caption)

    ©anugraha_99

  • _gonewild 1w

    My brother was possessed by spirits
    I was telling my friends
    And warning them to stay safe even without me
    Around him...
    From childhood only he is filled by somebody between his body and soul...
    And his soul is growing with the spirit
    It's been eighteen years now and all this began
    When we went to our relatives house
    And he entered into the room of their dead child
    And when he returned he wasn't alone
    Someone was holding his fingers
    And I couldn't see that someone who was holding my brother more than me...
    Sometimes behaving as sorted and sometimes throwing solar flares of angers around everyone
    Not sharing anything with me
    And taking my feelings for his laughter
    He has many friends but when I peep into his room he is always busy in writing something in his notebooks and when I ask he hides
    He hides his tears and noises of sadness
    As I know he must look like the Wolves
    Crying under the moonlight and hence hiding identity
    He is not very talkative but when it comes to me
    He debates like news agents....
    I don't know why I feel he hates me more than doing love... buying me ribbons for my ponytails
    And saying I guess this was long enough to tie your fingers into mine ....
    And sometimes shouting at me like the screaming from another soul's...
    He is so selfish that he takes my tears to break his ataraxia....
    I do not understand who is inside him
    Which monster has occupied him coming out from his bed...
    sometimes he makes me forget everything with his beautiful smile and sometimes shouting like the soldiers asking for a brave fight....
    I do not have a sword but I thought he will act as my shield.....
    But this morning his ghost occurred in his eyes once again And he blamed me without listening to my words....I do not know how to say I love my ghost brother when I want to erase him from this space like the game of the zathura and he never comes again....
    Suddenly I heard a sound and this was him
    COME ON WE HAVE TO GO IT'S TOO LATE WE HAVE TO GO HOME
    I was avoiding the monsters and escaped my eyes from his shadow even but he said OKAY SORRY MY FAULT WON'T ARGUE WITH YOU MY LITTLE ANGEL
    And I went happily with my ghost
    He asked me WHY YOUR FRIENDS WERE SCARED OF ME?
    And I said , SOMEONE HAS TOLD SOME SCARY STORY ABOUT HER BROTHER AS SHE WAS ANGRY BUT DON'T YOU WORRY I WILL CLEAR EVERYTHING TOMORROW......
    I was smiling feeling heavenly and hiding my mistakes both that my brother didn't disappeared because of my anger like the zathura and I got second chance to forgive him like the movie........

    #daadisbae
    Gemini-----ataraxia
    Yesterday saw this dream and lucky enough to rem after waking up .... don't know it makes sense but
    When they're ANGRY ;")
    They can do anything
    Little sisters��

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    I do not have a sword but I thought he will act as my shield.....

  • thunderbird__ 1w

    The roof rattles with
    little gusts of wind,
    broods over the slow paced
    receding footsteps of peace.
    Windowpanes listen to the
    pitter patter of rain,
    which turns everything around
    into pools of silent adieu.

    Will you remember me?
    A question becomes ubiquitous,
    and people in the city hold tightly
    their loved ones,
    believing the answer to be an
    impending funeral leading to
    a succession of dead people.

    Broken relationships forage
    their own cracks for nepenthe,
    but their fist remains empty and closed.
    Embodiment of friendship
    based on mutual admiration like
    Bukowski and Harold, Huxley and Orwell,
    freeze in the google history
    of a forlorn phone which
    eventually becomes forgotten,
    and the world turns red with envy.

    A boy sits in a cuddle caffe
    guzzling his silence,
    his loneliness mourns for him.
    A girl reclines on a bench
    in a crowded park, her eyes
    communicate with strangers
    who eagerly explore her melancholy,
    as a maze guiding to famed wisdom.

    Farida Khanum inscribes
    'Aj jaane ki zid na kro'
    on an empty vessel, but
    radio on the shelf plays
    the song 'Tears in Heaven.'
    Anger inflates to deflate,
    and finds a corner in suppression
    hitting the wall with an epiphany
    about the chain of hurt strangulating many.

    Therapists reiterate how
    past takes an eternity to heal,
    and mental illness drives to the
    Zone of Silence in Mexico
    where clocks don't work,
    and hence moments never
    become eternal memories,
    being entangled into a game
    of push and pull, where no one wins.

    Greek mythology shows
    traces of future,
    women simulate Circe and
    lay brutal traps for man who
    stroll the island of love.
    Poetries die a brutal death
    after getting raped in a genocide,
    where daughters fail to
    differentiate between a father and a rapist.

    Soon to be mothers
    engulf pills of reality,
    kill the foetus in womb.
    The exploding population
    sits on its knees before the
    autocratic mortality.
    An innocent prayer brings god
    to save the last drop of humanity,
    his feet tremble, sins poke his toes,
    and he never again pays a visit.

    After ages, a teacher reads
    a chapter in a classroom
    The title says-
    'A heartbreak can lead
    to the death of civilisation'
    The story revolved around a woman
    who saw world as reflection of
    her own heart.
    _________________________________

    @mirakee @writersnetwork #daadisbae #pod

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    Death of Civilisation


    ©thunderbird__

  • veloc1ty_ 1w

    F-O-R-E-L-S-K-E-T

    you're simple and tepid like love is,
    a cold breeze of perseverance holding calm in its captivity, flowing whimsically in the fields of bliss.
    i'm happy and lucky like a four leaf clover is,
    a hopeful tenant residing in your homely monastery, pirouetting to the soothing cadence of your burning love.

    you're the brevity of words that breathes silently between the verses of my proses and the thought that winds up in the corners of their minds, after the readers are done savouring my poems. you're the muse every poet dreams of and the dream every person wishes for, lying in their beds before they both slip into a sleep.

    you're a placard of strength and valor; you hold your ground when dark clouds hover over our heads. you don't fear of the thunder that's on its way to greet us both, you stare right back into the eye of the storm wearing a bright smile and make all the gloomy clouds disappear, paving a clear way for sunlight to pecker on our faces.

    you're the oracle of luminance, since you have a clear vision of what hides behind the many doors of my heart. you label each door based on the beats you measure when you call my name out. you study me wisely like im an eyeful figurine, you glue together my broken parts and reform me into an alluring manikin. you have a map of my heart memorised in your mind, you know the place to its very nook and cranny, till wherever your voice has reached out. you know where to search for me when im far gone.

    you're a headband of hope; when odds don't favour you, you cease to relinquish and make the best out of the lemons life throws at you. im a lemon which was flung at you by life and you caught in your soft palms and made a lemonade out of me. you carved out a beautiful meaning out of my hopeless existence.

    and me, i was a sunflower with dirt smudged all over its body, growing inversely in the nursery of melancholy. you plucked me from the ground and tucked me behind your ears gracefully, making my withering soul breathe with a blossoming hope again. you made me seem like a beautiful flora with handsome leaflets when my torned out petals reeked of grotesque, i was resting in the wrong garden all this time as i was weary of hope and joy, but now im blooming alongside your beauty.

    everything grows so graciously on your fertile grounds, my love.
    ©veloc1ty_

    @faodail❤��

    #daadisbae
    @mirakee
    @writersnetwork

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    Forelsket: the euphoria experienced as you begin to fall in love.

  • colourfulgreys 1w

    Returning one day from school, I threw my bag on the couch and stormed straight into the kitchen, “Get me a maths tutor, ASAP!” Mom, being my mom, answered without being flustered by the same request I made so many times, “Honey, but you are so good with numbers already, and what about your friend, who solves the tricky ones for you?” "Mom, I want individual attention and the with a batch of 50, our teacher has gone nuts already!” “OK! OK! Now off you go, eat and I’ll get you one by the weekend…”

    That weekend I had a maths tutor, one who had been giving tutions in the neighbourhood of my uncle not living far off. He was a balding, aged man, with one preposterous habit of wearing two spectacles one on top of the other. So that afternoon, gathering my maths textbook I sat next to him, my dad had gone out for some work related to car servicing, as far as I recollect and mom was busy baking. It was all fine, I had answers to the questions he asked, and so we proceeded to solving my doubts, I was working out my way through a problem when I felt he placed his hand on my thigh, I thought it was a mistake and so I shrugged my leg and he removed it. After a little while he did that again, and moved it towards my waist. Only 14, I was not able to process this action, happening for the first time in my life, though I knew that something is not right and my space is being violated, but I didn’t say anything and just zoned out, not able to concentrate and solve the question. He solved it for me and after a couple of minutes, was again brushing past my arms, placing his hands on my knees, and I got up. Alarmed, he asked what was the matter, and I feebly said, "I’ll study from Monday."

    My mother came into the study at that point and served the tutor the cake she had baked. Seeing him enjoy that, I was boiling with rage and close to tears. Once he left, I told mom everything, and she was appalled. For a man his age, and known to my parents, this act was infuriating. The man was phoned and told to never come again.

    The things mom told me that day were my lessons for life, that I was not wrong at any point, and having voiced against the vulgarity was the best thing that should be done.

    Whenever I see young boys and girls with people who are in a postion to exploit them, my blood curds. For a child it is not at all possible to word the wrong he/she is going through, they can only feel it. For us adults, it is the responsibility to never brush aside alarms, and always be protective of them, and educate them in all manners appropriate for their age.

    At a young age, I understood my personal boundaries, and those of others around me, till today sometimes I feel violated, like once at office, when I had a colleague, who used to stare so hard , it was difficult to converse. It was only a few days when he was transferred luckily, but he made me quite uncomfortable in those few days.

    I have met so many good people too- men, women, and otherwise in school, college, office, and Mirakee, open minded and kind, and I know darkness and ill-will, however much in abudance, will never be able to cloud the world till there is even one good person alive.

    I think to live with dignity, the prime requirement is privacy, even for children. So let's create a place to live, where we respect everybody at the most basic level of personal space. And not let horrendous people gorgonize vulnerable children, women, trans people into being scared.

    With lots of love and concern, J
    _________________________________
    ©Harfkaar 21-9-20

    #daadisbae (Capricorn, gorgonize) @mirakee @writersnetwork #genuine_readers @mirakee_ki_naanima
    PC to the rightful owner. Not clear why I chose this picture but I guess Deepika is one the most sensitive people I have ever seen...so..here goes..

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    .

  • anecdoche 1w

    This starless sky smells like the seductive rain showers you adored through the shades of the umbrella. Beautiful yet deadly. Gorgonizing yet Frightening.

    The phrases of loneliness embedded in this darkness narrates to me the helplessness you suffered when the rain poured itself drop by drop infront of you, wanting you to embrace all it's existence. But you were scared. Way too scared to lose your strength that you never dared to witness the glory of your weakness.

    The umbrella you held chained you to the foot of a cage made of unfulfilled desires and heaved sighs. You stared at the clouds promising yourself of a day you would let your wings take you far above the land of fears and miseries, while knowing it's you who would never let those bars break.

    Still, you never let your heart lose the strings of hope. And your heart never cared if those promises were mere glistening lies. It kept shining through the hopes your dreams gave to it.

    Now, as I stand here below the half smiling moon, I wonder if your dreams ever got the strength to pierce through the mountainous fears just to know how it feels to live. Did your naive heart ever realise that those golden cages come at the cost of freedom?

    And the day I realise that my freedom lies in leaving the shades of the stars and embracing the darkness of the night, I will let the rain drench every inch of me just to remind me of you.

    ©anecdoche

    @writersnetwork @mirakee_ki_naanima #daadisbae

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    .

  • ablaze_writer 1w

    #daadisbae #mooninhereyes
    @luna_tic_ see how beautifully I ruined this prompt :'(

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    // & //


    The sky seems forlorn at an odd hour
    for the people are now back to their den
    and it seems right time, to get away from them
    I look at the sky and moon isn't there
    now as I dive into this dark unending ocean
    there is no going back to the shores of hope
    but I look upto something crystal like
    someone who is calm in this unending chaos
    for what I seek is still a mystery
    I am still trying to break in
    the dreams
    d̶r̶e̶a̶m̶s̶ ̶
    which are
    Fernweh to my feelings
    I long for them to be a complete pleasure
    but they turn out to be laying danger
    I sense I'm becoming a complete failure
    but she stands there smiling with her long hair
    and I want to write a poem, which will define the
    Essence of dark night with my set of eyes
    who are sober and drunk on illusion
    just treasuring the moon in her eyes.

    ©ablaze_writer

  • saya__ 1w

    Tantalizing me from the door, the fireflies left me longing for them. To grasp them in my soft hands, until they fornicate amongst themselves to engender a new beginning to their petite progeny. I craved to touch the green paddy, to see them burgeoning beauty in the eyes of the jostling sightseers. I wait to engulf the sky in my eyes, just to embellish them with the stars I have fabricated out of love that never fades. I wish to hold the hearts of the nomads, just to direct them to the abode of their beauty, silently residing along their heart. I want them to believe, in their hidden elegance, just like I breathe for the part of my soul belonging to Aphrodite.

    The closed door, I would stare with my gleaming eyes. Engraving patterns of conflicts amidst my cramped mind, just like the patterns etched on its body. The conflicts of witnessing the nature bloom and wither from its panel or cross the boundaries to finally endure the touch: conflicts of fear that everything looks beautiful from miles yonder and the jeopardy encasing itself in its intimacy. Conflicts of desire to live today with eccentric joy in quietus, or concoct for the unseen future waiting ashore. And everytime the conflicts rest in the conclusion, my mind finds my soul creating an Athena, embracing every sonder in a way more elucidating from the prior.

    And today, as I watch the closed door, I could see the vivid Athena smiling over the locks: always prudent enough for the reality to confront. And as soon as I open my door, I find Aphrodite waiting for me, to take me to my dreams of desires, letting me caress my beauty with pride.

    ©saya__

    (Athena is the Greek Goddess of Wisdom and Warfare. And Aphrodite is the Greek Goddess of Love, Beauty and Desires. And I can feel both of them inside my soul.)

    @writersbay Unexpected. Tons and tons of love.

    #furniture #mirakee #wn #pod #septemberspesh #greekc #daadisbae (leo)

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    The door to my eternity

  • rekhuu 1w

    LOVE

    The halcyon days of school
    From being total strangers to
    the current lockdown phase
    Going down the memory lane
    It's been eight wonderful years
    Flirtatious texts to get my number
    Constant rescheduling of dates
    Meeting at the Railway Station
    Boarding a kinda crowded train
    Standing opposite to eachother
    Wonder whether I was ticketless.!?
    An awkward first date to the Mall
    Ordering your favourite pasta
    Leaving you with two plates of it.!
    Comical comments in Facebook
    People doubting something fishy
    Myriad dates on alternative days
    Often juggling between two states
    Long distance relationship it was
    Bunking lectures for movie dates
    Malls becoming our second home
    Chatting throughout the day and
    Staying awake through the nights
    First love of eachother's we are
    Our hearts suddenly embroiled in
    tumultuous hurricane of emotions
    Having been gripped with forelsket
    Our love growing as the years pass

    ©rekhuu

    #daadisbae @mirakee_ki_naanima
    #hurricanec @writersbay

    ____________________Word used____________________

    Forelsket - the intense, almost unreal feeling that comes with being in love

    Magoa - A heart breaking feeling that leaves long lasting traces, visible in gesture and facial expression

    Metanoia - A fundamental change of mind

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    Forelsket

    In the euphoric forelsket
    I feared an impeding metanoia
    that may cause a subtle magoa

    ©rekhuu