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galvanizedthoughts
1w
Read MoreI need to find people who took science till 12th and did something else afterwards Do you anyone in Mirakee/ real life. Tag them. Let them know that I am considering a second opinion.
I have taken PCM and have recently found interest in finance and business.
Also to every pcm person. What are your plans? Feel free to share them. Also please let me know what are the opportunities their in business and finance and also if possible media management
Let's talk about colleges, universities their cutoffs and opportunities available
Source of pic @/ mariannamadriz
This will be a permanent post so people like me can gather help. Share as much as possible
Tag people who might give useful information related to colleges universities cutoffs and more..
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galvanizedthoughts
1w
Read More
you have traded different parts of yourself
to all the places you have visited
you see,
places are as real as any character
that you would read
in fiction, poetry, fantasy
crime, thriller or even horror
each place is a genre on its own
so when I said that I am leaving
you glanced at me
a mother looks
at her wayward son
you glanced at me
the way mountains do
as they look past their lover's shoulder
you held unto me
the way the rivers do
holding unto the demolished Gods
pacifying it in its embrace
yet you tug
there is this invisible silence
that penetrates
like bullets ricocheting
across nepotistic skies and nihilistic blues
you see, You remind me of Siliguri
both, ascetic and aesthetic
in the life bustling Hong Kong market
or the crowded streets of Sevoke and Bidhan
but my favourite view of you
is from the rooftop
where the pinnacle of Kanchenjunga
is still visible to this day
where the voice still resonates
in the hearts of the mayhem
a penance worthy enough to be paid
in the lost and found box
this morning a chit I found
it reads you my dear
are SILIGURI
- Ayushi Saha
© Galvanizedthoughts Ayushi Saha
8th April 2020 14.30 pm
@mirakee @writersnetwork #pod #travelogue #wod #gtwn
A very old post of mine on hometown
Illustration by @/tinyfarmstudio on ig.
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galvanizedthoughts
2w
Read More
Reverse engineering a woman, a poem
(I)
This poem is no crash course
Nor does it come with a starter package
Or a reader’s manual / guide
Much like the Whatsapp forwarded jokes
Of a man searches in google
‘How to control your wife’
And google has zero search results
This poem is as dry as your sense of humour
And the repetitive need of controlling
All the woman around you
This poem is dry
As dry as the summer nights
Where the ac fails to work
And you have lived enough
To see the nights treachery
And died enough to mourn for the dawn
This poem is the discomfort
As you switch positions
And end up curled in the foetal position
Imitating a mother’s womb
This poem is the fundamental human instinct
Of demanding familiar physical touch
Yet as the Sun arises
And the leaves sway with the wind
It only reminds you of women swaying hips
The type you would secretly ogle
As you come across lingerie posters
And underwear adds
When you think no one is watching
But we women always know
Call it a woman’s instinct
For last summer a girl of 14
Had her first menstruation and the
Whole village celebrated her ripening / fertility
The next day as she sits on the local bus
To school, the journey feels a little longer
A little more unnerving
And suddenly the bus ticket collector’s gaze
Feels a little more disturbing
As her stomach churns unpleasantly
As she notices a man thrice her age
Staring at her and then at his manhood
She pulls her skirt further down
And the man grins
That pure predatory grimace
Her heart shudders and mouth shutters
She’s felt fear
Fear of being a woman
For the first time
After all ripened mangoes must fall of the tree
Suddenly he stares at his handkerchief
And the name of his wife
Woven with strings borrowed from the Sun’s ray
And he looks away as the girl descends down the bus
( II)
Close your eyes gently
What happens when you think of the word W-O-M-A-N
Do you see women running?
Running in wheat fields or mustard
if you are that creative
as their lovesick lovers run behind
close your eyes or have them done so
by a woman seductively,
as she feeds you grapes and what not
do you see woman with purple skin
and neon highlights as hair
whiskers and ears of a cat
political and profound
or do you find them
shying away, their cheeks now a pomegranate
as you pull their drape
or do you find them sitting
sitting at a family function
all nice and tidy
even when the touches are far from acceptable
or even decent, do you find them cowering away
Or do you find them with their hands shaking
Eyes downcast as they give you the glass of milk
And crushed almonds on their wedding night
are they feminists and feral?
Are they submissive or dominative?
Are they bottom or top?
Are they shy or a tease?
the girl and the woman
the girl with the woman
the girl now the woman
are all this poem
with no syllable count
Nor even your aabb ccdd
they do not rhyme
they don’t need to
but in the kingdom of poems
where the rhymes sits as a monarch
and creativity will be a slave
where every syllable shall praise
As haiku's and limericks giggle
Over a cup of masala chai
this poem will be a prude, an outlaw
and when they shall search this poem
They'll raid it's home, it's identity
It's origin and individuality
And after they have checked all the surveillance devices
CCTV footage and of course the internet
strip a poem, you will find a woman
Strip a woman, you will find a free verse.
© Ayushi Saha 16 February 2021 1:42 am
@/galvanizedthoughts
@writersnetwork #pod @mirakee #gtwn
I'm not back. Just wrote this because I wanted to and I could.
Illustration by @/ richakashelkar on IG
I'm starting to hate everything I write
Stop deleting your posts beautiful hooman. Or else I will shave your eye brows.
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galvanizedthoughts
5w
Read More
Affair under armpits
A boy peers in
Through a key hole
And watches a
a lady of the household
undress as if she were
unfolding an origami masterpiece
she stands sturdy and delicate
like the original origami paper
as the pupils dilate to stalk and eat
the vulnerability etched in her skin
the sun a seer stands watching helplessly
as the lady sways her hips
the boy swears that only the rings of Saturn
the ones he had read from a borrowed encyclopedia
would be an ideal waistband
the thighs as enticing as boneless chicken
and the river of delight that flows in between
the breasts, the cleavage
the buttermilk like skin
as her body, the colour of his favourite biscuits
his lady love is blessed by goddess Rati herself
as he looks away, the boy now is a man
a man who laughs at extra virgin anything
Extra virgin Marie, oil and drinks
and watches movies where boys like him
would turn into men after stalking and ogling
domestic women in the household who would bend
and peer in through keyholes
the keyhole now a father to their manhood
once in a while they would find themselves gazing
at the blasphemous pit of hair under her velvety arms and remember
the days they would trace their feet in the lush grass
and chase the winds and kites alike
and stay under the armpits of the night skies
until they saw a lady of the household
bending to pick the clothes and tieng them to the strings
the white saree tracing her voluptuous curves
as they no longer remained just a boy
© Ayushi Saha 23.01.2021 11.30 am
@writersnetwork @mirakee #pod
Reviews and feedback is very much welcome
Illustration by @/ tinyfarmstudio on IG
@my_cup_of_poetry @khola_hawa
Hair under armpits is a metaphor to show how much of a taboo this subject is and how often it is undermined and overshadowed. We often try to shave the hair under our arms, and also sweat and bad smell often accumulates there and we try to cover it with deodorant. So hair under armpits basically refers to something unpleasant that we try to hide in order to appear more appealing. The way we try to hide the blatant sexualising of MILs, DILs, Sisters maids etc.
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galvanizedthoughts
7w
Read More
To Indus and her daughters
Historians have named civilisations after you
in your honour
and burnt your daughters as honour killings
Your slender waist daughters
Milky as the crane that gracefully bends
Men as natural fisherman who would row
Near your fertile banks
Trying to catch their daily meal
If he catches none
His family shall starve
Thus, he doesn’t care about the world of fishes
Nor the families of those fishes
He has a family to feed
Trapping fishes in a sophisticated web of deceit
Rivers and girls
Rivers under girls
Rivers in girls
We are the fish and the bay
There’s a woodpecker who chucks the wood
it doesn’t know what the crane on one leg does
Neither the kingfisher nor the fishermen
It has a belly to feed -its own
The mud shelters whoever comes to it
Insects, worms, parasites
The woodpecker doesn’t mind the mud
Nor does the Sun
But men do,
your daughters became white sand
The white dove and white sand
With pair of lotus eyes and feet
With sandalwood skins
And basil leaves for bosom
They stretched their ancient legs
For saints and sinners alike
As they became the ones that sheltered all
A thatched roof of straw and hay
But once in a while, after pregnant pauses
As the water of the clouds broke
Tears would drip down slowly
From the roof and men being men
Would simply scavenge for another hut
Until years passed on,
The great grand-daughters of your daughters
Would carry it as an heirloom
Until one day they decided not to
they made love with anarchy
And slept in the arms of resistance, peacefully
As if it were a cult
A riot
They wore tributaries of tears as waistband
And would arch their eyebrows
And launch sterile arrows
they named their daughters freedom
And asked them
Wouldn’t you conquer yourself first
To reclaim the world
© Ayushi Saha 7 Jan 2021 10.41 am
Idk why I wrote this.
@writersnetwork @mirakee #pod @writersbay #writersnetwork
@my_cup_of_poetry
Artwork by @/ madelinekate_illustrates on IG
#gtwn.
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galvanizedthoughts
8w
Read More
Daughters of a borrowed land
(i)
The land on which my ancestors was such
That you wouldn’t find on any maps
Neither now nor 200 years ago
Our land was a myth, our homes were too and so was the tree
That stood in its centre
Like the Sun does in the solar system
Much like the lebu bhoot/ lemon ghost /
Whose arms could extend for miles
That you would find in Thakurmar Jhuli/ grandmother’s bag of stories/
Yet the people in our village would say
Do not sleep under the trees for they may haunt you
But I often felt that the sturdy and stubborn branches would extend their arms
In an attempt to imitate that ghost
As the trunk, wisely wrinkled would resemble
The folds on my grandmother’s forehead, arms and legs
As some branches in rebellion would stoop low
The Resin on the bark my mother would say
Is the tree salivating in desires of attaining salvation
And the roots, tap or fibrous
Would hitchhike the water and nutrients, to their destination
The leaves will photosynthesise in exchange
For the wind that would mischievously spill secrets it stole
From the grass, cloud, sun and soil
(ii)
Then came the pardeshi
Or ones from another county
The men in the village didn’t know what desh was
They claimed that their gods were superior
They burnt our houses, our fields and bodies
While the big tree silently endured
The men who did tapasya under it didn’t
King Sibi had given his flesh away to save a dove
They gave us away like meat on a platter
To save their head and caricatures of manhood
The big tree now looked ancient
As ancient as the time when the entire womanhood
Bore the punishment on behalf of Lord Indra
For his sin of Brahma-hatya
As the womanhood bled once every month
The lord gave a boon of motherhood to woman
And woman still bled
Making lands fertile that attracted the Aangrez
So for the sacred mother of all mothers
They were given away as an ahuti
And then came the brave ones
Who said ‘Maa ka doodh piya he to jaang larne jaa’
//If you have drank mother’s milk then come on the arena//
For their own personal vendetta
The land, the mother long forgotten
The hips, tits, lips and bones rented away
And the barbaric tenants beg, borrow and steal
knee deep silence floods
and tears seep through thatched roofs
As the skies water broke
The tenants now planted immigrated plants and hopes
And wreak havoc as others glance and look away
The land and the woman sacrificed
Then and now
Had no autonomy whatsoever
Are ancient and mythical
As the daughters of a borrowed land
© Ayushi Saha @ galvanizedthoughts 01.01.21 15.30 pm
@writersnetwork @mirakee #pod
Happy new year to everyone.
Artwork by @ martina_hoffmann on IG
I need some honest reviews and critics so that I am able to grow as a writer.
@my_cup_of_poetry.
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galvanizedthoughts
9w
Read More
Cavity
(I)
There’s a hole in my heart, 6 inch wide
The one that I stab myself with
Being my usual nihilistic self
Then twice, in order to extract, minced up words
Thrice, being my usual apologetic self
For hindering my ‘originality’
Now my heart is a pumping cadaver of
All the verses I have tormented in the name of individuality
My heart is like Atlantis
Co-Existing on Plato’s map and human anatomy while
Ceasing to exist, on geographic maps and my figment of imagination
My hearts topography as I would like to belief
is that of Dvārakā- gateway to heaven
cause that’s as close to heaven as I can get
The blood and stain
The scare and gore
The pain and affliction
Have become two sides of the same coin
Oh! who am I? oppressor or oppressed
Maybe both, but why should I bother
Asking anything that puts my sanity on pedestal
(II)
In the tip of my tongue
Resides a starved man
On a parched land
Searching for every drop of affectionate moisture
he can gather as he patiently waits for the winds and its whims
to grace him with merciful placid drops
only if he ever wandered from there
he would have discovered my tongue as a waterbed
Both calm and torrential
A wave and tsunami
Both forgiving and unforgivingly destructive
My teeth are like aqua regia dissolve
Midas ‘s touch from my words
Syllables come out as rough foam that is found in shore by retreating waves
(III)
In my thoracic cavity
nestles an imaginary kingdom
Were bias and assumptions
Make merry together every night
So in the bosom of dawn
when the rib cages appear xenophobic
They puncture my lungs
And put up the flags
As a tribute to the revolutionary morning
As I breathe the alveoli bring the new winds of change
And haemoglobin comes to rescue being the sole bearer's of change
However as up, you go
My oesophagus has an imposter syndrome
Perhaps because once my conscience- a Dronacharya
Asked it for its voice as a Gurudakshina
And being the obedient one it still gives
It's silence as an offering
© Ayushi Saha | 25.12.20| 16.05pm | Galvanizedthoughts
@writersnetwork @mirakee #pod
Merry Christmas and a happy new year to my Mirakee family
Artwork by @/ tinyfarmstudio on ig.
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galvanizedthoughts
10w
Read More
An Ally
I have never been able to differentiate
Between a mother’s womb and her embrace
Oh! She wanted to keep me
From going astray
She coddled with love
As if my skin was a butter bed
My tresses as dark as the treacherous nights
My eyelashes as taut as a whip
So when I plucked out one
For 11.11 wish
And wished to explore the very world
That my mom had used herself as a shield to protect from
She looked at me
As a harbour looks
At a ship that decides to rule the waves
So she kissed my temple
And warned me of the tempest winds
And the whimsical waltzes of the bonfire
That ends up swallowing the forests as whole as an offering
She warned me of the soil, the Sun and the wind
But silly me, paid no heed
The oceans filled the emptiness in me, in volumes
As water gurgled in my thoracic cavity
The Sun in its brilliance and greed
Gifted my blisters and burns
The moon was an apathetic onlooker
The soils stabbed and scorned at my sole
And the winds left my tongue and oesophagus
Drier than the Sahara Desert
After staggering and stumbling
I came across a tavern
Where I met a mystery man
With a dark cloak and a magnanimous aura
To strike a conversation I asked
How long have you been a wayward son?
He said I belonged everywhere and nowhere
I am the morsel over which
A mother kills her own child
I am the contempt that is experienced
By the news of a neighbour’s success
And the brim of hope
When others fail
I was am and will exist
Even after the Suns greed overflows the pitcher
As it swallows the moon, planets and stars
To satiate its insatiable hunger
I am the biggest foe and friend
I am darkness, an eternal ally.
© Ayushi Saha © galvanizedthoughts 23.12.20 10.30 am
@writersnetwork @mirakee #pod
@my_cup_of_poetry
Artwork by @liviafalcaru.
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galvanizedthoughts
10w
Read More
Reborn
My legs that are tamed
often walk on eggshells
flinch at the gentle caress of the grass
as the wind murmurs sweet nothings
and secrets its stole from a saint’s pouch
to punish atlas perhaps
the sky bids farewell
to the onlookers
as the birds rip the sky
like bullets aimed into nothingness
the skies bleed a tint of sacred vermillion
as they look at the Sun
as a newly-wed bride does
at her warrior husband who departs
to conquer the unchartered realms
as the giant oak tree extends into the ocean of blues
like an infant who stretches its arms
in childlike wonder
free from the vile intentions of society
the leaves sing a rustic tune
as I lose myself to the foreign feeling of satisfaction
one wise man said
the rich beget riches
I ask what does a conscience beget
As my mind settles in a chaotic rush
Adrenaline comes to aid
Only to inflame my restless mind
Time seems redundant
As I let myself be consumed
As I fasten my pace
I watch myself spew words
As they arrange themselves in a beautiful cacophony
As they ascend on pristine sheets of white
Into a celebrated union /poem
I come across a timeless beauty
As I watch a euphoria
That captures yet liberates
Every ounce of sanity left in me
I watch my well stacked words slain themselves
A mass homicide
As a new poem takes birth
Anew beginning that leads to nowhere
But I am content
As I skip a few steps
And trod away merrily
After all, it isn’t regular
To witness the glorious cycle of life ,death and rebirth
All at the same moment.
© Ayushi Saha /Galvanizedthoughts //22.12.2020// 10.30pm IST//
@writersnetwork - thank you for your kind repost
@mirakee #pod
I wrote finally after a terrible writer's block
Review and feedback gladly appreciated
@my_cup_of_poetry @moitreyee
Artwork by @liviafalcaru
#gtwn.
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ikigaii
18m
..
Why does emptiness feel the heaviest?
the moon said,
"it's what proves you had a heart inside"
~lil_jas -
zohiii
11m
Read MoreNay, dwell not in the seeping roofs,
Hark, the battle cries of dying fires,
Search thee not in faraway nooks,
Of truth, truth that blazes the liars.
Of wind chimes, hearths, laughters,
Shall such a mortal vessel there be,
With flesh and blood that prospers,
I'll call it home, a heart that thinks of me.
©zohiii.
-
Moon Love!
Sun disappeared,
night sky shy.
stealthily from mountains
moon arise!
'Twas all dark
but fluorescent spread!
All amidst the sky
full round to crescent!
Cherished and talked
by daughters & son!
Yes everyone loves
cute full moon!
Predominant amongst all
the white satellite ball!
Silent yet all metaphor
it stole be it love, romance all!
Oh moon you awarded
as spring of peace!
If ye to me were nigh
I shall surely oh moon
eagerly thou kiss!
©SmartSam -
The moon stays there
In the sky
Loyal , steadfast
Every single night
A constant companion
Witnessing our moments
Dark or light
Hanging from the pinion
Ever night, it’s a different
Version of itself
Sometimes waxing or waning
A different phase for the world
Sometimes strong, full of light
Sometimes weak and wan
As if it understands
What it means to be human
©monikakapur -
seirios
2h
Read MoreIt was all full
Full of everything
As you filled the emptiness too
With a truck load of real smiles.
Asked the full of the moon
To the chunks of me,
If I want to be put together
All over like one new unabridged piece.
I looked at the sheeny heart
Accompanying me under the moonglow
Nodded and unknowingly assigned the task
Of making me whole again
But full of everything
Full of better me
And full of brighter me.
And only if I knew
How with a ‘why’
It all would start waning,
I'd take your hand and dip it in the stardust
Having fifteen lame reasons
Decided beforehand,
Writing the main one
On the darker surface calling you blind.
It kept waning and I couldn't hold back
So wrote it all without waiting
Under the flashlight
With sparkly tear in one eye
And a different story in another
Like a kid right?
I keep telling them
And on some nights even you
How the cracks are filled with enough of you
That on a new moon night
I'd be sightseeing a full moon
Drawn by an amateur mind
On the ceiling with absolute delight.
With a slight push you'd explain how
This is wrong for a fragile heart
I'd still smile with swollen eyes
Because this is how I live my nows
Until it all seems to be waxing somehow.
A few months with these phases
Completes a year
I failed to sing a few songs written
I wonder how you would still hear.
Living in the same city
Still galaxies apart
Perhaps so much that if I wish
For full moon in your sky
When mine will be unlit
Being the holder of a new,
That wish won't be counted
With the ones unfulfilled.
–K ��
#moon #wod
#poems_for_seirios.
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The sun burns me
All day I hide
From rays that
Somehow feel like me
The moon comes
With splinters of sun
But in ways I call
People's delight
He's a deceiver
He will smile
With all stars
His backstage artists
When he wants to cry
But alas! He's no cloud
Shimmering shine on scars
He conceals parts
He wants to be proud of
A bit like me, a bit like us
He's broken yet holds
But then he leaves
Just like you
When the caligo
Shadow lurking
Engulfs him wholly
He grows tired
But then hope
Is a irking tactile
He pushes him
Again gradually
He is so much like you
Baring his bruises
Bit by bit but hides
And when I know him fully
I realise he's gone again
But what's different
I know he will come
But not you, not you
I hide from him now
I ignore his gaze
For I'm tired
Of holding on to
People, I know
Will leave
©eternal_chaos -
we_elude
1h
Read MoreYou can't phase out phases of moon or life
Then
You need to take a trip to moon ��( easy right ��)
To look at our earth from the moon's perspective....And you will see how opposite and subjective is the phase that we assumed to be so 'constant' and so 'universal'.
It's all just about perspective.....I guess
"Moon is dead" declared decade ago .....now we are searching for 'active' faults in it .
....much like us ....is that we always do !!!.....so let's dig into the phases of moon and praise every phase .......and every phase is analogous to human nature
Every phase of moon praises and preaches their own philosophy.....
From the new moon that is exactly (+5/-5 degrees) between sun and earth .....reviving its utter darkness for our introspection while sometime shading sun and creating sol eclipse ....and later journeying its waxing phase toward complete illumination ....but remember the illumination happens when sun and moon is exactly opposite to earth......creating an instant surge of emotional depth while sometime is gripped by shadow of earth forming its eclipse.
And then waning phase start to revive darkness again ........to go on rhythmic journey again.
But remember this is just a view from our earth.......in space..... moon always holds its duality.....
So why we can't hold our own duality comfortably ..!!!
But while revolving around us.......it revolutionise our depth of emotions with every phase of itself.
Moon moves water
Human body has 70% water .....and earth has more than 70% water and so you can't escape the gravitational pull of any phase of the moon (And who wants to ...anyway)
Glad that our earth has only one moon unlike Saturn with 82 moon .....
Just thinking ��how many phases we would have to go through if we had multiple moon......would we be more humane or would we be more scattered?
So whatever it is
it is just a phase .......✨
©we_elude
#moon #wod @writersnetwork @mirakee
#ceesreposts��️
The phases of the moon is analysed
according to the 'rules' of planet earth
But in the space
it always is illuminated ...........
it always is darkened................
©we_elude -
fromwitchpen
1h
©fromwitchpen
-
go_win_the_hearts
1h
Read More#moon #wod #social_g
���������� ���� �� ����������!
---------------------------------------------------
||•||��||•|| FIRST QUARTER ||•||��||•||
----------------------------------------------------
In an illuminated night
he met his moon,
in her terrace.
The moon was gleaming.
Quothed the lover,
''Two moons this night!
Theirs is broken in the sky,
mine is in my arms,
is most beautiful.
Theirs is shining for earth,
mine is elating my heart."
----------------------------------------------
||•||��||•|| FULL MOON ||•||��||•||
----------------------------------------------
Patches of clouds
played hide and seek
and the love birds loitered
hand in hand, in the Silver Valley.
Uncountable kisses
drew the lover in her face.
Warmth was the meet,
quite intoxicated were the couple
in weaving the nest of dream.
Quothed the maiden,
"Witness is the full moon,
would you dye my life
stealing hue from the luminosity of moon!"
-----------------------------------------------------
||•||��||•|| THIRD QUARTER ||•||��||•||
------------------------------------------------------
Half asleep was the earth
but, few eyes were watchful.
There met the pair
unaware, unnoticed.
The little story searching a way
to meet the bay.
Innocent was the tale
in half sunken night.
Quothed a foe
ambushing beneath a bush,
"How dare he!
Son of a bitch!!
being a drawf how could he stretch for moon!"
---------------------------------------------
||•||��||•|| NEW MOON ||•||��||•||
----------------------------------------------
In a night as dark as hell
met the duo usual,
unaware, unnoticed.
A conspiracy had made before they met.
Edge of the sword was whetted
to drink fresh blood and gore.
Giggled the foes
and quothed,
"Bastard, died a horrendous death!
Leave the corpse for wolves of jungle
before the dawn."
A sacrifice was offered for the sake of honour
in a night of inauspicious New Moon!
©️govind_��
1st March, 2021
@writersnetwork @mirakee
Picture credit: Printrest.Death of a Lover!
©go_win_the_hearts
-
shyaryaa
1h
Read MoreI Love You In The Way I Love Every Phase Of Moon��
#moon #emptiness #lovedyouenough
@writersnetwork @mirakee @mirakeeworldचाँद
पूरा चाँद हो या रिश्ता,
अच्छे तो लगते हैं।।
पर क्या कभी,
उनके अधूरेपन से प्यार हुआ हैं ??
©shyaryaa
