Skip to main content

Poem - #7 | A Memory is All We Have


We looted the memories out of
our very bag of untouchable treasure
And lived the nights as they were days.
When the light had been burning our eyes
We made huts to hide in
Then laugh at the others who wamed us
That this dream was to end.
Has this dream yet ended for us
No!
We are paying back for the time we wasted
For the days we held cursed against each other
And stole from the bag,
As our escape.
Were still looking at those people
Who wamed us to come back to our senses,
Now I look back at her at times
And ask,"what will we do after we figure a way out?"
She looks away as if saying, pretend like we never happened"
                  
                                                 -Pushpanjali

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Photography - #6 | By Hrishikesh

Life is all about moments. Each of these moments is precious and needs to preserved and cherished upon. Capturing them in photos is an Art and a photographer an Artist. Here is one such Artist . ≬ ≬ ≬ ≬ ~ Hrishikesh

Alireza Taheri Araghi | The Immortals of Tehran

BLURB: As a child living in his family's apple orchard, Ahmad Torkash-Vand treasures his great-great-great-great grandfather's every mesmerizing word. On the day of his father's death, Ahmad listens closely as the seemingly immortal elder tells him the tale of a centuries-old family curse . . . and the boy's own fated role in the story. Ahmad grows up to suspect that something must be interfering with his family, as he struggles to hold them together through decades of famine, loss, and political turmoil in Iran. As the world transforms around him, each turn of Ahmad's life is a surprise: from street brawler, to father of two unusually gifted daughters; from radical poet, to politician with a target on his back. These lives, and the many unforgettable stories alongside his, converge and catch fire at the center of the Revolution. Exploring the brutality of history while conjuring the astonishment of magical realism, The Immortals of Tehran is a novel about the incan

Poem - #13 | Utopian Dystopia | On Poverty and Racism

On Poverty and Racism They say it ain't good When you show your cunning self But when you have to beg for food Being honest is of little help. Sit in the heat, sit in the rain; Is it the best way, you use your brain. But you know what? The rich don't care, About the miseries the poor share. Oh! Please don't spit there Thats where I sleep dear: And don't you piss there My food is in there! Yeah you heard it right But you still will fight, With the people and the government, Everytime they have us money, lent. For the rich get richer,  And the poor - poorer: Very few things in this world Are more truer, Than this clich├ęd phrase. You see, we live in such a country When dogs are prayed but men slayed, On the basis of their so-called caste How long do you think can such a rule last? And the black men, kicked out and murdered Just because God had them coloured. And yet they say we live in an uto