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Days Of Intermission

Updated: Jan 23

By Swati Joshi



In my house, three story

live a few people

some I fancy

others I cold shoulder .

It’s a warm weather

with the cold breeze outside.

Roads are tight lipped

with occasional screeches

of Police.

Air seems to have voids

parties calling human aid

but their architect 

is wounded

laid back on hospital beds.

While others with the fresh thought of

uncertain disaster 

that has gone stale

owing to video games.


The ‘ones’ on Earth

Slaves to the nature

who is avant garde.

Creator of all this acclaimed mess.

She is  a Victorian

 likes it all tragic

 away from bland romantics

 she doesn’t like all this snuggly

 fake behaviour.

No fan of benevolence

 she is our mother

but now evolved

 she learns from her offsprings

 be it Newton or

 someone covered with pall

 she will reciprocate

 and won't get burdened at all.

 Whether it turns out

 a struggle within us

 to push our brothers down

beneath the bus

or a gift from mother

for being so reckless

 we deserve it

 so shall take it

 without any discomfort.




 Look, we are helping with

 the knowledge of  restoration.

Either with manual or

 material endowment.

 Here I clicked an undo button

 Oh, our false beliefs!

 Divide minds,

 religious atrocity

 to get away again.

 Who is the enemy?

 Me or you or the mother?

 Who is sick of your deeds

 And now wants revenge in due.


 Let’s stand in our balconies

 clap for the benefactors.

 Let's light some candles, show fire

 to extinguishers.

 let's sit in the time machine

go back to when we were free

 captivating nature in our face

 we will come again in

despair soon

 but it doesn't matter.

Deaths are fun

 Starvation is fashion.

 Thousands of billions

 not a matter for retrospection.

 This is a pause and not a deletion.

 We will come back to the normal

 without learning any lesson.


By Swati Joshi





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