Can I bring change? Let me write and try!

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  • sruthisankari 7w

    Back after a break!
    #mirakee #writersnetwork #pod

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    And as we are safe by chance
    from the gloom that has burst all around,
    we hope, cry, feel and pray
    for the ones we know and don't.
    If this ain't humanness, what is?

  • sruthisankari 9w

    Our love exhales a perpetual sanguinity
    that fuels lightning, thunder and rain
    to heal suffering!

  • sruthisankari 10w


    Oceans apart, as I dry up in the summer,
    the pre-monsoon mizzle brings your scent and
    I know that rain clouds bearing your face will follow!

  • sruthisankari 10w

    #hollow #mirakee #writersnetwork #pod
    To mark my 200th post, I wanted to try something new and different. Thank you dear Mirakee for the support and growth ��

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    The Leaf on a Clock

    The intoxicating aroma of the night jasmine fills the silent air, as the tender white petals open their hearts to the world. My green breath longs for a whiff of its scent, while I am busy inhaling oxygen.

    The broken platform along the lane starts to get strewn with old torn bedsheets, as the homeless complete their day. I see some of them close their weak eyes and smile, maybe in dreams, they have a home with a bed and a garden.

    There are dim romantic lights emanating from teenage balconies, that speak promises of a future together. Time does not follow counts of sixty minutes per hour, when emotions flow through words.

    Temperature drops further, making my naked surface shiver. The usual petrifying howls of dogs begin, sometimes as a reminder of routine and sometimes as a memory of the fear response I once had.

    Moisture makes love to my cold vulnerable body, as if extending its comforting arms in a wet embrace. This is my favourite time of the day, when mercy drops of dew are blissful dollops of love.

    A tinge of yellowish orange cracks open the dark violet horizon, as dawn brings the sun rays and the giant Sun. Early birds zoom out of their slumber to announce the arrival of another morning of hope, purpose and happiness.

    My home, the park, now comes alive with motivated walks and light hearted talks of brisk people. It is a boon to watch the random small steps of kids, the fixed regular directions of youth and memory filled footsteps of the old.

    When cute human faces start disappearing, I am noticing the flowers around. A myriad of shapes, sizes and colors amidst the background of green leaves like me, set up for the little flies to go kissing from one petal to another.

    The road outside now clogs with anxiety, rush and a polluting smoke. Most of these visages are sullen and unhappy, as if work is only a burden. Oh look at me, I have happily started to photosynthesize with the prime of sunlight.

    The chemicals inside me are hitting jackpot with the constant rush of job satisfaction, every time I prepare food. Maybe I was forced to do it, but now it feels like passion. Hope I am not the Tony Robbins of leaves.

    I am lucky to live on a tall branch, and get a glimpse of the Natural History museum beside. Their welcoming staff eagerly await the excited children, who are in awe of the dinosaurs, great apes and the Neanderthals.

    Ah, the most wonderful person of my world is here! Mankind has segregated what he does as a gardener's work, but this one showers love when we are thirsty. His hands clutching the water hose always dance to the rhythm of the happy song he sings.

    As the scorching heat rises, dribbling sweat makes roadside vendors curse harder at their miseries. Like them, some of my siblings start fading and frailing. Too much fire is not only light, but also the burn that consumes from the insides.

    Today, like few other summer days, simple families are enjoying a picnic in the park with their fancy bread and happy games. I wonder if each human being is like a leaf in their own family tree, with lives much more significant than mine.

    There is an uncomfortable silence. The barren space of my home that longed for quietness when the overcrowding noise masked peace, is now aching for the bustle. I guess the world does not want the present, just longs for the past and future.

    The intelligent birds and insects know that dusk is fast approaching, so they try to make hay while the sun shines. I only have a few more minutes left to make extra food, while embracing the beauty of daylight.

    I, along with my family, encounter a slow breeze that makes melodies. We sway from side to side, marking our only movement. I know that I am like fish in a stagnant pond that knows no imagination, unlike fish in a flowing river. So I love the only dance I can have.

    My face shifts westward to linger in the warmth of the western sky, when the east begins to sleep. I do not know if I can rest like animals, or if insomnia is really a thing for leaves, but I would always choose to stay awake to observe Nature.

    The naughty children and playful teenagers are back for fresh air, after their suffocating lessons. I wish I could show them how I learn, with closed eyes but open vision, and fill their hollow minds with philosophies.

    There are just two contrasting moods on the road now - tired and excited; tired, beaten workers rushing towards the comfort of family, and excited company venturing towards joy and socialism. The cloudless pink stratosphere smiles through the moon's crescent face.

    The stone benches slowly turn cold, as the humans leave for their nests. The guards have come to chase away the stray, and I sigh with heaviness. I have to wait till the Sun rises again, to listen to the soothingly boisterous music of this world.

    The air suddenly seems to have a huge filter spread through the length and breadth of the Earth, as the wind delicately holds the fragrance of the flowers around me. This mesmerizing smell had been there all along, but my senses had prioritized filth.

    The streetlights are near yet dim, but the twinkling stars are bright though far. I wonder if these artificial lights will be a pleasure from a spaceship, and the now beautiful stars will leave a dull memory when I burn on their Universe.

    I notice that I've turned greener than yesterday and will be deeper when tomorrow ends. I was born chartreuse only days ago. Is this not what living is... immeasurable by a clock's hand but counted in experiences and enlightenment!

  • sruthisankari 10w


    Dear fear,
    I see you there, lying all alone
    Shaking and shivering in the coldness of my soul;
    I don't believe in karma
    And so do you,
    Yet why do you expect me, to hold on?
    You cannot live, until I breathe into you
    But as I donate all of my oxygen,
    You take the form of a fire
    And suffocate my confidence;
    Life is made of a multicolored fabric-
    Each bearing its own meaning
    To drape me in a vibrant clothing,
    Your color is the midnight grey
    That rushes to mask every other hue;
    I knew I had to give you up,
    To give a chance to courage and happiness
    But I knew how to give you up,
    Only when I learnt to
    skip vocabulary and understand punctuation;
    You won't hear from me anymore,
    As my rainbow colors are dancing tonight
    Fearless and full of hope!

  • sruthisankari 10w


    Polished words, but
    Plain meanings,
    Posing as messengers of
    Prophets and Gods,
    Piece by piece,
    Peace it will bring,
    Power of pen and ink!

  • sruthisankari 11w


    Children think they know me,
    When they draw grouped clovers and
    paint me in snow white!

    Youth kicks in, and I become
    the master of change, just like them...
    My various forms are amazing as they try to imitate me!

    With age, people think...
    Try to understand the reasons for my presence,
    As they explore the reasons for their existence!

    Towards the end,
    When calmness takes over their life,
    They find my formless self in the midnight sky
    And discover that I am just a reflection of time!

  • sruthisankari 11w

    Due to the difficulty in trying to keep up with challenges, tried of combining three of them! Hope it gives justice to the meaning of the words :)
    #lost #myriad #unflappable #mirakee #writersnetwork #pod #challenge

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    A rocky relic!

    I am a giant rock carved by the Earth
    And placed in the middle of a mighty sea,
    My eyes witness death and birth
    But life is the only thing I see;

    I know when tectonic plates are bickering,
    I hear the bugles of distant ships,
    I enjoy unflappable fishes slithering
    Back and forth their survival trips;

    I like the high tides that swarm around
    And the adventurous tales they bring,
    Submarines capsized, boats lost and found,
    Birds flapping music while the ocean does sing;

    Many years are gone, but here I stand
    Knowing the secrets of unfinished travels,
    The water hardly tries to etch me into sand
    As the sky roars everytime it bids me farewell;

    Nights and days have gone astray
    In the myriad dreams I weave,
    As life is nothing but desires that stay
    After some we choose, and some we leave!

  • sruthisankari 11w

    #cees_dsm_chall #mirakee #writersnetwork #pod
    The lines used here of Roger Waters is 'You raise the blade, you make the change'.
    This post is written against increasing police brutality in various parts of the world.

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    Power's rights?

    My weak bones and parched skin
    Are paying for the untold sin,
    The fragile knees and muscles I made
    Tear down while my fight begins to fade,
    The once happy child, my mother bore
    Is frantically swimming towards the shore
    In a sea of blood, submerging me,
    Will my eyes be ever again free?
    You raise the blade, you make the change
    For, the power today, you proclaim
    I'm a puny human making human mistakes
    Who made you Gods with fancy blades?

  • sruthisankari 12w

    Image credits to the rightful owner.
    #aubic #mirakee #writersnetwork #pod

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    As seasons passed

    In the shadows of pines and cypresses,
    We planted sunflowers in summer
    Earnestly hoping for spring,
    The winter shrouded them in white
    But, autumn had burnt them already!