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By Sumita Kumari Memory flash out When we met That was miraculous plan Of god, Different culture was The only cloud We all hit these cloud Jingle Bell , Jingle Bell Memory flash out Destiny were different  By nature we were different  Flavour of food and drink Was totally different  Ours thinking, ours plans Of outdoor, makes us join Jingle Bell , Jingle Bell Memory flash out By sharing thoughts by sharing foods, by making Food, testing and trail of food, gives us lots of hap

By Sumita Kumari गोल गोल दुनिया के पहिए सोच समझ कर रहिए सच क्या झूठ क्या हर कोई झुलस रहा है इस प्रश्न के इर्द गिर्द ज़िंदगी चलायमान है आत्मा के रोशनी में सत्य ही सत्य है सत्य आज फिर भी परेशान है मन की आंखे कुछ और दिमाग की उथल पुथल कुछ ऑर है गोल गोल दुनिया के पहिए सोच समझ कर रहिए परीक्षा कठिन है उनके लिए जो सत्य के पहरेदार है घोर कुंठा ,निराशा है हर कोई आश्वाशन के गिरफ्त है कल न्याय होगा अंधेरे से दूर नई सुबह होगी उपहास , सहनशीलता को भी अल्पबुद्धि की संज्ञा मिलती जा रही है वह

By Sumita Kumari पढ़ाई के दिन थे  चर्चे में हम थे  बात बस इतनी सी थी  किसी की पसंद मैं थी  किशोर से युवा  अवस्था पे कदम ही पड़े थे  इंटर से कॉलेज  कॉलेज से इंजीनियरिंग का  सफर लिए नए सपने के  साथ चले ही थे  हाथों में किताब  सर पे जुनून पर  उसे क्या पता था  जिम्मेदारियों से बंधे हम थे छोटा शहर था  लोगों की फिक्र थी इससे पहले कि वो कर पाता  लब्जो में बयां  हम भी कम न थे दूर दूर रहते थे हम छिटक छिटक चलते थे हम ये जान कर भी किसी के मन की बात हम बनाते थे अनजान समय की मांग थी मां ब

By Sumita Kumari शिव के अर्धरूप से उत्पन नारी शक्ति स्वरूपा हिमालय के कंदराओं में कई युगों तक जिनका आवास माना गया है गंगा यमुना सरस्वती नदियों में भी संज्ञान है नारी धरती पर हर रूप में व्याप्त है नारी संहार करने वाली शिवालिका विद्या के रूप में अलंकृत नारी हर घर की शान है नारी शूर है वीर है रानी लक्ष्मी बाई, सरोजनी नायडू ये वीरांगना नारी है इतिहास के समक्ष प्रमाण है नारी घोर कुंठा अपमान भी सहकर रूढ़िवादी चुनौतियों से लड़कर देश रचा है बदले भारत की पहचान है नारी शिव के अर्धरूप स

By Azra Melrose The stormy weather that replicates your moods The simple affection of a stranded cat longing for scratches  under his neck  The quiet nights that feel comforting as the silence envelop you as a much needed hug after a long day of distractions  The problems that solve themselves only demanding a little of your patience  Isn’t it beautiful? The simplicity in this complex experience of existence. By Azra Melrose

By Azra Melrose Love is always "The Question "Everyone wants to know What the other thinks about it As if the answer would determine If it's worth bearing their heart out  On a Silver platter. Playing with fire, hopelessly hoping Fireworks would ignite. But love could be anything As the purity of the air we breathe To the heart that beats ceaselessly Through every heartbreak and unprepared grievance Through boundless exuberance and the darkest hours of the night It beats sole

By McKenna Dugdale If depression is the black dog, then what is anxiety? this seemingly hyperactive other that we cling to in the event of it being right. i think it would be one of those little white rat dogs: walking it and entertaining it throughout the day while denying the fact that its smell and shrill bark are reason enough to not keep it around. some poor sons of bitches take it around with them everywhere. it yaps your ear off all the time; nonsense that irritates an

By McKenna Dugdale shout the warnings he’s chanting in his head like a prayer? throw your body in front to be bulldozed by self destruction? stand by as we stare in the face of stubbornness and inaction? inspect the cliff for bluff failures? savior, saint, sinner martyr, man, or madness love, lust or lucidity negligent, neanderthal, or naiveté do the tides love the shore? do the waves batter the bluff in an act of love or hatred? does the sea whisk the sand away in an attempt

By McKenna Dugdale what is love.  why is it what the poets, philosophers, and teenagers alike contemplate till their hearts bleed out.  what if its just a cynical culmination of lust, trust and that which is impervious to the human condition?  what would you do then?  would your existence, every relationship you had, every heartbreak be null and void?  what if there is no such thing as love; love is just the name we call whatever emotion makes your heart swell and your brain

By McKenna Dugdale I am tired of chewing on the shards of things unsaid.   Spitting them on the sidewalk--blood, bile, and bitchiness seep into the pavement. A mouth full of metal as I swallow back the stain on my teeth. A left hook leaves my lips before I can remember how to pay my dues in fucks to social propriety.  A woman is well learned in the language of blood. And the rest of the world is desirous of it—nature takes rent payments, society shuns it, but Mr. Hyde is happ

By Tanvi Maloo On some days, I understand why my baby niece puts everything in her mouth I wish too, on some days To cut a slice of the oh so blue sky, like a crisply toasted slice of bread; Or, directly take a bite off the fluffy white clouds, Which I imagine to taste like cotton candy  or maybe, popcorn – the perfect mix of sweet and savory. The eagerness to taste life- All its flavors and textures, even if I were to end up with a bad stomach after! By Tanvi Maloo

By Tanvi Maloo A woman wakes up early in the morning, bustling with energy. Keeping busy with things, one after the other. One look from afar, And it confuses the men around. “Why she works so much unnecessarily ?” It seems unknowest to him, How she was made to feel guilty for simply sitting down,  for not helping out with chores, or being idle. As the men were laughing in conversations over hot tea; For, the idiom “ Idle hands are the devil's tools”.  is for women and women

By Tanvi Maloo The landscape of friendship  seemed to change so drastically while growing up. A sudden sifting of those who can walk the toughest terrain with me. At first, it felt like the ground cracked from under and  swallowed me whole in the grief of the friendships past There seemed to be more hills to climb, than people to climb with. An acceptance setting in that some paths will be mine to walk alone But paths did converge too,  Some. At points of time, opening up and

By Chiara Mores Ants indulge in pulling sandwiches apart Piece by piece  Stealing every piece for themselves  Until there is nothing left of the sandwich Then,  The ant disappears  The sandwich remains at the mercy of the ant  The ant loves the vicious, destructive cycle The ant creeps towards the sandwich  Thoughts of victory flooding its mind  As the ant gets closer to the sandwich  The quiet steps become  Roaring stomps  The ant lifts one crumb at a time onto its back  Bef

By Chiara Mores I’m sitting in a brown leather chair that’s too low to the ground, across from you  My head is pounding between the the sounds of the blender and a dozen coffee machines  The song is blaring out of the speakers  The warmth of the ceramic against my skin calms this feeling in my heart  I notice you’re laughing  I can barely make out what you’re saying  I’m not even trying to lip read  “...and then, she threw up all of my dorm , and it was like…” Dorm He would h

By Sophie Lang Sometimes, when I look at the sky and the clouds just float – so unbothered, so untouched by time – I envy them. Because I will never fly. Time is my greatest thief. It steals my coulds and swallows my woulds , while I sit here, trying to catch a rhyme in this half-written poem called life. Truth slips through my fingers – always almost, never quite. Because I’m just a small human with too little time, too much longing, too much reaching for the why and when. S

By Sophie Lang Did you almost reach for me? Just for a moment – when no one was looking, when your thoughts weren’t yet lined up like soldiers, when your guard was still sleeping, and your heart had a second to speak. Did you almost picture me in the light of a morning that wasn’t goodbye? Did your hand twitch, your chest ache – just enough to whisper, stay? Did you almost ask what this was – before deciding it would hurt too much if it became something real? Did you almost f

By Sophie Lang I’m not here to fight the dark, or ask it why it came. I just lay down my tired heart and let it say my name. No lesson. No reward. No light. Just breath and ache and skin. And somehow, in the quiet night, I feel the world begin. By Sophie Lang

By Sophie Lang because truth doesn’t flinch here. because silence has teeth. because no one pretends they’ve got something to prove or someone to be. no smiles to sustain, no masks left to mend. here, everything whispers: this is the end. but not with despair— with precision. with grace. the kind you can’t fake in a curated space. because stone doesn’t lie. because names don’t compete. because nothing is filtered or made to repeat. no branding. no bargaining. no better next r

By Sophie Lang I once met a man who made me feel whole. Not because he completed me, but because he allowed me to be. The moment I felt your presence, I knew right then – that I had just met a real grown man. The kind of man who doesn’t need to explain his strength – who simply lives and you feel it in the space he gives. A man whose heart is open, not because it’s untouched, but because it’s been through fire – and stayed soft. A man who meets people’s eyes, like it’s a habi