Riffling through the pages

‌Isn't it rather easy to personify some things, rather than looking elsewhere? For example, bestowing human-like tendencies on a fluid representative like the ocean becomes immediately relatable. The waves of it might almost represent the recurring changes in an individual's thoughts and feelings, the two extremes of anger and calm reflecting themselves in human mood swings. The sea often seems to have a mind of its own, rage and peace alike. Of course, it is not above us humans to press our moods on our surroundings,but the ocean seems to resist this influence insistently, somehow...                                                              We do try to either control the sea, or at least glorify it, in some way or the other. The concepts of the sea gods, prevalent in different cultures (such as Poseidon in Greek Mythology), served to focus deification on nature as a means of appeasing a 'higher entity',  through which ultimately humans sought to control nature in

(Disclaimer: This poem is not intended to hurt anyone's emotions. Any action in the same vein is sincerely regretted.)   BLO.OD. Two syllables. Pronounced 'dis-gas-ting', 'eww', and also 'pay-tri-o-tik' and 'aww-nur' Def. (1): Something unmentionable   that occurs one week every month, renders women worldwide untouchable, is regarded taboo and poisonous by society. Def. (2): A quality which enables heredity (or its unwanted first cousin nepotism) as a deciding factor for positions of power. A viable career option for most politicians. (Ref. Blue blood: a speciality only found in the aristocracy) Def. (3): The gushing rivers and its tributaries that mar history and are used in great amounts to sculpt and fashion the world as we know it. First coated by steel, then permeated with gas, and then accentuated with explosions of hydrogen. Def. (4): An excuse used for patriotism (see 'boundaries' and 'barriers'). Causes its eld

A girl,  Fresh, green in the sun   A fern, a           furl of    leaves and shorn Stems - An expression of hope               Emanating     Radiating in a youthful  Show of enthusiasm...         Curls             Wildly flying in                         the mischievous wind Fluttering, riding         swooshing air in propriety, a      Blinded eye, wantonly                           Enjoying                 the freedom taken for granted. A sign of their             Youth,    People think; indulging smiles Exchanged.                          Years later,  those same eyes                Now dimmed with experience         which once We re vivacious       Those same wanton curls             now grey with age, tangled    with failed dreams.       

This one's pretty self-explanatory.   History for Laundry  If I were doing my laundry, I would take the Crusades,  Wash out the Blood and Violence, Bleach the red out, I'd put Wars of Roses in, Whiten the Red,  Red Rose,  Lift a big bucket of Water, Douse out the Great Fire of London.  I'd soak a clean rag, wipe down the Layers of Grime from the Industrial Revolution,  Wash out the Colonies thoroughly to rid the Filth of the Europeans.  I'd take Extra-strong Soap (even that might not work)  And scrub vigorously the World Wars, Wash away the Guns, Rub out Disease, Clean the soldiers up.  I'd dump Churchill, Stalin, Hitler oh and let's not forget Truman! into the Washing Machine.  A few turns Might do them good, get the coat of Violence out,  Though I'd have to Repair the Machine afterwards.  P.S.  It's for the Greater Good!  But (let's be honest here) I don't think even the Repaired Machine  Would be able to

Hi! So, here I am with another post. This one's a prose piece (of which there aren't many), but this one actually remains very close to my heart. Incidentally, I wrote this one in eighth grade, and recently rediscovered it in a folder full of inkstained and barely legible pages. Needless to say, the work, when I reread it, made me cringe. Strangely, however, this particular piece stuck with me, almost as if stubborn enough in refusing to leave. And so, defeated entirely, I rewrote it, and yet miraculously managed to retain its core.  What you read today, therefore, is an eighth grader's idealism (and, in some parts, immaturity) wrapped in a vocabulary that has done its best to make the piece seem more mature. But whatever it may be, it is also one of the first nature pieces I've ever written, as well as being among the earliest in my portfolio of 'serious' work.  So here goes. The sky glittered with stars. Each was a twinkling, bright dot a

Hey guys!  So, this is my first time writing a blog, and actually putting up stuff in the public domain. The act of writing isn't new to me though, because I've been penning down stuff for almost every day of my life (ever since I  could  write, obviously). To introduce myself, I thought I'd post something that might clue you in to my personality; a way to show you how I am. Not for me, the tameness of sport I prefer a vicarious reading of a book, plunging headlong into different worlds Adventure, excitement, ideas await! Become something,  watch through another's eyes... A plethora of colours, textures one couch, a drink And a good book, is all I need to enter the  Gates.of Heaven.