63 posts
  • vantab1ack 11w

    The one who wrote this is a boy :)
    So if you're a girl, you can read this and feel this, and if you're a boy, YOU MUST READ THIS.
    {don't hesitate to read, it's not something weird, ok?}

    Read other such pieces under #vantab1ackperspectives
    #mirakee #writersnetwork #writersbay
    #hearthc #saudadec #blurc #shadowc #epochc #emberc #ironyc (A compilation of challenges :D)

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    A girl on the call, would you listen to her?

    I just turned 13 before some two months. It is Sunday today. The breezes were soft enough to caress my hair and make them fly with halcyon in the air, but my body didn't want some enjoyment today, maybe. I started feeling too uneasy since morning, my stomach started aching severely, as soon as the sun hastily woke up from its sleep by the alarms of the sinking moonlight. My grandma and mom were sitting by my side, and insisted me to skip my school today. I was perplexed and blurred further when I saw their salmon lips wide; it all felt like mocking my pain. My shadows were trying to tell me something, and my senses didn't interpret it. And you couldn't oppose me by my stands completely, for this world knows to laugh at somebody better than laughing with somebody; it is all the game of conjunctions and pronouns. I somehow managed to rush into the washroom, and I found scarlet hues, what? "Momma", I bellowed like that neighborhood child who fell down badly while riding his cycle yesterday. She seemed like a prepared lady as she entered with something in her hand saying, "Here, have this pad, it will be alright", she smiled with her crooked teeth which weren't ironic to me this time. I was exhausted so much. I just had a nap till noon. And when I woke up, for my surprise, I found my mother saying to father, "Kuch nahi hua hai, beti badi ho gayi hai, khush ho jao" (Nothing so severe, she has become mature now, cheer up!). I was left with questions in my head. I somehow managed to google this thing, "Why do girls bleed by thirteen?" and the articles I read made me realize, "Oh wait, my mom wasn't being mad by the juncture, she actually is quite mad, the whole world is". With these thoughts, I closed my laptop and slept with eyes open.

    Good thing, girls are mature, I am mature, I appreciate that. My perplexions can only be entangled when you would make some intellect to answer my question - what lies in celebration when the one who seems victorious actually bleeds pain in the party? I got to know that this process is termed as Menstruation or Periods. Nice. If you aren't aware of what this is, I can explain this to you in my words: "bleeding crimson for four days so that the one who deems himself to be powerful contributes in bringing another creation to this earth". So basically, eggs start releasing every month from the fallopian tubes and the uterus prepares itself with blood vessels and mucus to implant them. But when fertilization doesn't take place, the blood oozes out and this is what the process means. Just blood with some pain. But all resemblances deeming simplicity have complicated tangled yarns inside themselves. Only complex beauties with scars inside can portray saudade in the best way possible, and I find myself in this genus. My heart(h) is lit up with woods which are making my questions bid sayonara with the embers. It all feels like being a girl is a curse, and these points cross my mind:

    1. My grandpa had told me this, "When the almighty had to divide mankind into two, he didn't want any one of them to feel injustice. So he gave the men folk some powers to enjoy. Since he had a soft corner for women, he gave them many powers like being the creator of a creation, serving the entire family by her own strength and many more. Now he doubted that women, having, so much power, can get into severe rage and rise to an intolerable extent. That is the reason he gave them pain in two forms- periods and pregnancy (Still, these pains actually come with good outcomes)". It makes me feel that girls are powerful. Pain comes with demands. I can tolerate my pain to be great, can't I?

    2. The rustic pages of the old history have narrated and witnessed many epochs and balladries, of which a few speak of war poetries I used to feel boring in the sixth period of my social classes. They speak that bloodshed signifies fighting till the end, and if oxygen still manages to empower your bloodpool, you are victorious; you've won the war. I think for two minutes in silence, and I can proudly say now that, "my girls are warriors". It instills faith in me that tough times can pass on like diaphanous feathers with the grace of wind and time. I am a warrior with pride and courage.

    3. History and past is a womanish book which is hardbinded and draped in a thick black Saree, and the whole thing makes sense as 'Culture, Traditions, Rituals', whatsoever. Some attributes are agreeably useful. But the thing that orthodox or ritual families don't let girls with ongoing periods walk near the rooms where God is worshipped makes me laugh pitiably. He has sucked his blood out and gifted it to that girl of yours who fears whether her dress is stained scarlet while listening to her chemistry classes. Will he be angry at you for bleeding his own seasons? Think.

    4. The fact that girls menstruate in their puberty isn't like some new trend which popped out in your Instagram feed a few minutes ago. In real honesty, your brother who fights for petty reasons, the boy in your class who has a secret crush on you, the uncle in your neighbourhood who has set up his own pharmacy, everyone knows about this. They might act like they know nothing, but when enough intelligence and vision is shown, microbes too cannot escape from getting into red-handed sights. If everyone knows that you need a napkin now, why bring fear to those by wrapping in newspapers? Why hide your masked face with another mask and give shyness one more follower? It's okay to give white napkins some white light.

    5. If you are a boy and you still laugh at her at times when she would want to use washrooms frequently, don't do that. Nothing comes easy at the silver plates. She might be a mother of a child whose father was sitting near you in the fourth bench when the lunch break was near. Bring some reverence into yourself. If you can help her, that's great. If you cannot, silence has a lot to do. A girl is a soldier in lead, and you need to admire her for winning over herself and her pains, everytime.

    So the next time a girl comes on a call, would you have the courage, patience and {enough} reverence to speak and listen to her?

    ©Vantab1ack ~ Nov 8, 2020

  • the_speccy_outsider 13w

    In her quintessential style, she sat on the couch smoking her third cigarette. It was true what everyone said about her, she indeed had an intimidating persona. As I ushered her in she gave an icy-cold look of annoyance. And that eventually augmented my nervousness.

    TSO: It is truly an honor to sit in front of you Miss Davis, I....

    BD: Let's cut down the pleasantries and get to the point.

    TSO: Oh, okay. Well I know how passionate you are about your craft. I just wanted to know why so much of it. I mean, to the extent of risking your love life, your motherhood, and family time.

    BD: Aren't you a darling! Well I loved watching plays and had a knack for acting since childhood. When I saw Miss Garbo on screen I'd stare at her with dreamy eyes. It would baffle me as to how can someone who's not really there, captivate everyone's attention.

    And it was the point of epiphany for me and my mother. You know, she travelled with me to all of my auditions. Consoled me everytime the casting director yelled at me. They wanted a pretty gift cover to show-off and I was nothing but a cardboard cutout that did not tickle their male genitals, or their ego, well in their case the lines were blurred in that context.

    That made me tough. You know, I was a Yankee. Giving up was not in my blood. And when George Cukor signed me for my very first acting assignment for the play Broadway, there was no looking back for me.

    TSO: That is quite fascinating. I heard you were terminated multiple times as you didn't have the much needed sex appeal. Why were women's role in films limited to just that?

    BD: Well honey, quite honestly, those bald and fat studio heads wanted to authenticate their fantasies. I was asked to kiss and lay below twenty men for a screen test. Believe me, I so craved for a silver lining, and after playing minor roles like a shadow, it came in the form of Mr. George Arliss who gave me my first break in Hollywood with a leading role opposite him. That's when the Hollywood Elites noticed me. And after a few more roles I finally got my first-ever Oscar nomination for Of Human Bondage, although it wasn't an official one but due to public protest they were forced to give me one.

    TSO: Since you mentioned The Oscars, you've been unapologetically outspoken about your views regarding it. It was evident that you were upset when you didn't win for All About Eve, as per your expectation. But you know what they say about expectations. //Expectations are like heartbeats. Life goes on when the line is both high and low//

    BD: Look at you, comforting me with your philosophical shit. Oh, I so adore your innocence kid. Well, The Oscars and I had an unusual relationship. I was given the honour of felicity for those films and roles that weren't my best ones eventually robbing me for all of my bests, including Baby Jane. How can I forget the night when Miss Joan Crawford walked onto the stage to collect the Best Actress award on behalf of Miss Bancroft, after lobbying the academy members against me.

    Yes I was in deep melancholy when I didn't win for All About Eve, for that was quite frankly, the greatest role of my career. And you know, I too would've gotten it for Gone With the Wind, had they let me play the role of Scarlett O'Hara instead of that incompetent Vivien Leigh. But all said and done, I'm happy with my trajectory.

    TSO: As you said, all said and done. I so admire your audacity to speak your mind. You raised your voice against pay parity, better roles for women, major studio investments for women centric pictures, helping the families of the soldiers we lost during the war, and what not. I mean you brought down the Studio System that literally obstructed all the artists amidst contractual obligations. You were one hell of a trailblazer.

    BD: Hell, yeah! I wasn't going to settle for less just because of my sex. Being a woman did not mean I was to be treated with inferiority. I wanted to speak up my mind through my film choices. Of Human Bondage was considered a blasphemous film but when you see the current ones, it might seem less sensational.

    But it surely jeopardized my personal life. I always thought that my mother was my only friend. But she used to send letters to her friend complaining about me. Telling her how I thought of myself as the Queen and that I was narcissistic. My own daughter hated me and even wrote a book about how I tormented her. I went through four failed marriages. But you know, the only thing that kept me going was my work. And I will keep working till my body gives up. Till my last breath. To still keep the lights on.

    TSO: Thank you so much, Miss Davis for taking time out to have a conversation with me. I used to dream about this since the moment I first saw you on screen.

    And also for not smoking the entire time. That was pretty generous of you.

    BD: My God! You'll kill me with so much of this nicety. And was this a conversation? Felt more of an interview. Never mind, I had a great time. As far as the smoking is concerned, I'm told to not do that at all. And I just had five of them.

    TSO: (Smiles)

    It's better to be hated for who you are, than to be loved for someone you are not. It's a sign of your worth sometimes, if you are hated by the right people- Bette Davis


    #writingcontest #creativearena #felicityc #lettersc #dialoguec #shadowc #melancholyc

    Another ode to yet another legend. A fiesty, sarcastic and exceptionally straightforward lady and artist.

    For posts on similar theme, check out #ScreenLegends

    Picture credits: To the rightful owner.

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  • bhawna__ 13w

    For I have seen many greys in the shades of that colourful pain..
    I hope she'll forgive me after reading my portrait..
    I hope it'll visit through her eyes,
    and what if she ,again, didn't give me a smile?
    #shadowc #writersbay

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    She just hates me,
    For being politely honest with her,
    She doesn't talk to me,
    For we never really did,
    She ignores me after reading,
    For I discomfort her,
    As she is the strongest attraction,
    And she's in love with me,
    But we both have egoistic souls,
    Somewhere we admire that more,
    She doesn't talk to me,
    For I was aquainted with her when I was not searching for love,
    For being me,
    And for the selfless greetings.
    We just stalk each other,

  • silverjade69 14w

    My shadow

    My shadow follows me everywhere I go, even in the dark when I cant see it

    My shadow sits by me while I cry and cries with me

    My shadow is by my side even when no else is.

    When I turn to face my shadow and we place our arms around each other, even though we can hug I can't feel I arms around me

    I just wish my shadow could be more of a comfort and sometimes, wish we could talk, but the silence is good too.

  • strangledsoul 14w

    the subtle warmth
    healing the cold hands
    throughout the year.

    some places ample of
    space knitted with art
    and some left blank.

    difference exists
    as warmth like
    sunshine tastes

    Yet exists as a
    blank odor
    like moonlight
    without stars

    Too exists as
    a shadow-like
    hope bestows
    in absence
    through memories.

    flesh asks more
    to halt the
    cold whiff
    scorching heart
    with unstoppable
    anxieties and concerns.
    Often conquered
    as parted segments
    of rare rose, the
    symbol of reverence.

    Now it seems
    ineffable to avert
    these winds
    reciting tasks
    to walk from
    the way, where
    the love made.

    the holding
    hands clasped
    together as strong
    now yearn the
    feel of glee
    through segmented
    petals and sepals
    placed on every page
    of scripts, I wrote
    as you.

    the shadow
    to my burning
    shoulder and
    shelter to aching
    heart, I envy you
    even in times
    where love
    can happen twice,
    but I intend only once
    through you as an all.

    #picturec #shadowc
    #abstractc @writersbay
    #pod #mirakee #writersnetwork

    again the title format credit goes to
    @zohiii ✌����✨

    @writersbay ✌����✨ thank you for the repost

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  • jnaiwalker 14w

    Why do you sound so
    far away? Why do you sound
    like you’ve swallowed a

    Does something have you?
    (Something has you, then.)
    Why aren’t
    there any words now?

    Tell me what you’re near
    and I will find you. I hear
    you’ve swallowed a sea.


  • daphnae 14w

    Hundreds of thoughts clogging my mind, as it fails to whip them down in the paper. I watched over my window hoping to find new metaphors hiding along the cobblestones and leaves, the zephyrs dancing with the sky in the backdrop, the birds soaring along the clouds grey and white. Dubbing the colours, I watched as they lost their essence and certitude to my heart. The brownish red on the leafy greens, seem to embrace the autumns nevermore. The azure shade of the sky wasn't that intriguing to make me crave for the wings once again. In a trice, everything looked dull as if you inhaled every colour with your breath; the only difference this time was you refused to exhale.

    My poetries were the tomb of broken strings, which once bound us as the shadow mingling with the body in the darkness. The strings, which once used to play the cadence of our entwined breaths. The tomb echoes your last words, through the husky landline phone. The sound resonates myriad pictures suffocating under the heaps of numerous sunsets we shared, every dawn once scattering its presence among the tiny spaces betwixt us. The tomb perched on the grave, I've been cremating since the day you left. Every new day, would there be another layer of our memories for me to bury. As I cremate some, I keep aside some another; for me to live in those moments once more. "I will leave you behind some other day," I would say and continue along with the bondage of your grip over my soul.

    And through my nights, I dream of digging up the grave to find you and me giggling over the telephone in the phone booths; of our romance bridging our breached streets. A dream, which took form of a nightmare, lately.

    Highly inspired by @souravmudgal and @laus_deo ��
    @writersnetwork @mirakee

    #picturec #shadowc #mirakee #wn #pod #octoberodyssey

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  • discoveringself 14w

    For the shadow is my
    All time ally!
    It never leaves my side!
    In light it frolics around me;
    In darkness it merges
    To become one with me!


  • bonitasarahbabu 14w

    The shadows of the past, they haunt me.
    For the sins of the forefathers,
    I am paying the price.
    This shadow is relentless,
    No matter where I flee,
    It follows me.
    Even in pitch darkness,
    The presence of the shadow is felt.
    This shadow, it will follow me
    Even in death,
    It will not let me out of its clutches.
    Fight as much as I may,
    This is something that is out of my control.

  • say_me_krish 14w

    Highly inspired by @clockwork_mnemosyne ����

    @mirakee @writersnetwork @writersbay @sangfroid_soul @laus_deo @thewordplayer
    #skp_writes #pod #shadowc #lettersc
    (Epiphany, happen, happy, pain, any, heap etc)

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    Daring deaths

    There are some junctures when you start loving Edgar Allen Poe and his poems; I too am living in this genus of the contemporary. The aureole around the moon seems aphotic and befuddled in the night times; it looks like radiances losing their own charisma in front of despondency. I really felt like an alamort soul who has been transpierced just once and thrown besides the dug up sepulchre to bury myself. It is all understood of late by the fact that all contradictions don't turn out as postulates just like you expect; this word called 'Unexpected' pops out of any nook and corner.

    When I 'Fell' in love, I felt butterflies flying in my stomach with the best feelings dancing triumphantly in the air of my heart. But as soon as I realized that I had drowned, I was only left with memories which were mere butterfly times, which flew yonders away from me. Being an lepidopterologist might have helped maybe, but it is all fair to cascade first and rise with a heap of memories in hand then. It wasn't strange for me, some things are meant to bring miseries, and they surely will. Epiphanies have crossed my mind saying: "Not all angels fly, some wings are ripped apart".

    I never believed in kismet's play, till listening to Taylor Swift's 'Treacherous', coz the title breathed of my experiences, and shadowed me somewhere. When I first met her, I felt it was all done, and indeed, it ended, but as a dark poem rather than a fairytale. I had seen my cosmos in her almond eyes, a bunch of galaxies and a millions of stars with shimmering sagas of our love. After sayonaras, I unexpectedly found myself in the abyss, the black one. When you leave yourself in someone, finding yourself back can never happen. The ones who hold your journals must return it too. It holds signifance as well.

    Death doors had some light for my fáilte with all pride amidst the biggest pandemic, but when I realized I, myself, was the disease(d), I shattered into pieces, literally, smithereens. I'm feeling incomplete of since broken. Crimson- hued glasses are all distorted mercilessly. It takes something to realize the very fact that you are not you anymore. But somehow, I bite the bitter gourds. I desire to wave to death by gathering all my fragments which she broke up, take back all my happy hopes she snatched, get hold on everything of my universe; I want it all back, except Love. Love hurts when it doesn't have two streams uniting together for oceans without horizons, right?

    I wouldn't die of sorrow and pain, I would wish to be averted in the confines of a photo frame after bringing a tempest rather. I wish to be a strong persona; penning down dark proses isn't my genre anymore. I will emerge victorious, I will bring back at least a part of myself, safe and sound. By then, be ready to invite me into your abode, the one having rooms of Expiry dates.

    /Are you ready for me?/

    ~S r i K r i s h n a P S | Oct 17, 2020.

  • anvaya 14w

    Ask my pillows smeared with silent tears,
    Ask the shadows that wrap my mind with fears,
    Ask the air that carried my painful, hushed whisper,
    Ask the blanket that comforted me from my thoughts, sinister
    Ask the walls that witnessed my worst plights,
    Ask the moon that saw me through vulnerable nights,
    Ask them once , and then you'll see,
    Then you'll know another facet of me.

    #shadowc #mirakee #creativearena #writingcontest

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  • 300roses 14w

    Shadow, My Friend

    When I was a kid,
    Shadow was my best friend.
    Everywhere I went,
    she was right by my side.
    We love to run in the fields,
    fly kites in the wind,
    build sandcastles in the sand, or
    simply bask in the sun.
    She was always happy,
    so was I.
    We enjoyed many delightful moments together.
    Life was so simple & carefree then.
    As I reached my teens,
    the world turned into a fascinating place through my inquisitive eyes.
    I began making new friends & exploring novel interests.
    Shadow faded from my mind like vapors.
    Life grew more complex as I advanced into adulthood.
    Setbacks, disappointments and distress invaded my life like a gust of wind & stayed indefinitely.
    Friends eventually distanced from me. The new people I encountered,
    wore masks with affixed smiles.
    There was no one I could truly call a "friend".
    One sunny afternoon, as I was sitting on a bench with my lunch, I looked down & saw a familiar figure.
    I recognised her in a heartbeat.
    We used to be best of friends.
    She was my Shadow.
    Though I had forgotten her,
    she had never left my side.
    Tears welled up in my eyes.
    I had no one, but Shadow.
    She was my one & only true friend.


  • mystery_in_words 14w


  • wanderingmind_2k4 14w

    New dawn
    A new beginning
    An enthusiastic heart
    Aurora revealing the path
    Noon's here
    Keep going
    A fighting heart
    Shadows slowly creeping over
    Evening starts to hide the glitter of sun
    A struggling heart
    Shadows all around
    Doubts taking over
    Night brings darkness
    A heart almost giving up
    An unconscious shadow lingers over
    In a shadow of people
    Overthinking becomes a companion
    Demons rising from shadows
    Showing the darkest hours
    Dragging the soul to the dark
    Trying to control the mind
    The heart keeps fighting
    Waiting for a new dawn
    For the shadows to once again be gone

    #shadowc @writersbay

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  • wilmaneels 14w

    Don't try and escape it
    Don't be afraid of it either
    It's just your shadow
    It moves when you move
    It remains in one spot when you do
    Why out run something that does no harm
    Unless your shadow reminds you of something you're not suppose to do
    Like your conscience
    Try to ignore it as much as you can
    It will catch up to you eventually
    *image credit to rightful owner*

  • sarcasticbong 14w


    I see these kids looking up to me
    They think I'm some kind of
    Extraterrestrial entity,
    with every possible answer ability.

    I'm just solved within myself
    Few words to speak about
    Few pages to read about
    Few nights to cry about.

    Died, moved to parallel universe
    A hidden ninja of the leaf
    Master of the shadow jutsu
    A prison for the nine tales
    My chakras never fails.


  • bhawna__ 14w

    Watching the clock..
    Knock knock..
    Keep calm
    And study.
    @mirakee @writersnetwork #writersbay

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    Re-read with the new darker shadows of old shades.

    And it is getting tough to get back to the life of reading the same stuff again,
    And it is getting more fearful to getting back to a dream,
    And a lot of confusions that feels like rain,
    And it is "the once more" of the nothingness,
    As if I have started from the zero and again have to read it with the shadows of the same numeral of others,
    Along with zero where my non-existence showers,
    And new headlines with the unknown shades of the old crimes,
    I remember the game of the chess,
    And I'm feeling like that pawn who wants to reach to the other end to get the powers of the queen.
    But I'm only having one step after my two failure steps to complete the journey with the sharp strings.
    Because I love the guitar but don't know how to play as if I have never seen them without the sober musings.
    I don't know who's the mysterious king.

  • taekook_maknae 14w

    #shadowc #pod #poetry #lame #oneliner @writersbay
    @writersnetwork tnxx alot for ur heart and read��❤

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    I am the colourful version of my shadow
    And my shadow is the dark version of mine!


  • suranjana__ 14w

    Dear shadow(parents, best friends and the people who existed in my life as angels) of mine thank you for always being there for me...


    A repost����

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    Reminiscing me that
    I draw breath in this macrocosm
    Permitting me to detect that
    There's light around me
    It was you who let me concede.

    Reminiscing me that
    There breathe someone who conceals
    In my inky o'clocks but
    Stays like a column to rescue me
    Whenever I descend
    It was you who let me concede.

    Reminiscing me that
    There's someone who always cherish
    At my dazzling minutes
    By staying with me without being shilly-shally
    And not being envious of my success
    It was you who let me concede.

    Reminiscing me that
    There's someone who always stays
    By my side be it in light or dark tempos
    Like a unsighted acolyte of mine
    It was you who let me concede.

    Reminiscing me that
    There's someone who follows my darkest notions
    Circulating in my mind
    And my beliefs that stays in my dreams
    It was you who let me concede.

    Reminiscing me that
    There exists super power for the person
    Named shadow,
    Who can alter it's height whenever it needs.
    And letting me know that this person is too bashful
    As it secrets behind us.
    It was you itself who let me concede.

    Reminiscing me that
    There breathe someone who leaves me
    Whenever I cautiously reach my home
    Shielding me in the way I come through.
    And letting me know that this person
    Jumps whenever I jump onto the bed
    To have a tight sleep with me
    It was you itself who let me concede.

  • madhushree 14w

    I am something different from what i used to be
    Don't like what i used to enjoy then; seems all fake
    opinions, tastes and choices are changed somehow

    I feel something but say the opposite of it
    Want to cry hard but suddenly crack a joke
    Music which i rock has changed from soft to harsh

    Someone is new in me; i feel so everyday now
    Who never wants me to break down without fighting
    Is changing the way i feel and observe things

    I call that someone my shadow; as it is with me all the time
    When i fear the darkness; it says i am there with you
    When i am being judged; it says always be real!

    I say the world is empty; it agrees with me
    Fake emoticons ruling our hearts; but souls are lonely
    It makes me work harder and believe in the big picture

    Best thing that my shadow has taught me
    To play with my pain in laughter and sarcasm
    When i feel anxiety attacks; it says to own and overcome it

    It made me understand that world is cruel but we don't need to be the same one for them...i will be kind but i won't stand with unethical.
    #shadowc @mirakee @writersnetwork @writersbay

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    The shadow in me!