wordism competition

Saturday, 22nd December 2018. Almost half past seven. 11-degree centigrade. She is allergic to cold. And the cold just loves her. It never gets out of her soul. Closed door, check. Room heater on, check. Thick curtains, check. Double blankets, check. Warm overcoat, check. Scarfs and socks, check. Woolen gloves

Dear reader, Let me start off with one the most clichéd yet true statements you’ll ever hear; life – life truly is a mystery; you never know what lies ahead of you. As we move ahead, in this harsh real world, it can be overwhelming just taking in what is

You were the poet among us. How is the poetry of your life? I know what you would think reading that, a turd of a writer. But I hope it did put a smile on your face, my friend. It has been a long time, hasn’t it? Almost forty years.

As the tree branches were getting their lost love back, I was also wet with rain of happiness. Maybe that is what we call spring. Maybe, me being happy, the tree being united with their one true love was all part of the changes that occur in spring. I was

Look at how the cold clock ticks in sullen agony eating all the fresh new years like a hungry shark on hunt. Look at these deciduous days diminishing like smoke, fading months and falling moments, withering like grass. Look at life! All our years flee until finally, only a year,

Sometimes there is no other option than just giving up. Coming this far hasn’t been this easy. And to go forward there isn’t any motivation left. I know to a lot of you it’ll be silly and simple but for the ones going through this, it ain’t an easy path

It seems kind of unnatural to bring up “tortured males” in the discussion of gender equality. Not being sexist here, but being a woman I can understand what equality seems to be in our perspective. We want 50% “or more” share in everything and a lot of attention and affection

My father’s black leather soles As they strike the black tiled floor Each time Make a explosion inside my ears As he strides to and fro From the big wooden door to the end Of the corridor His impatience and anger Echo off of these grey walls His forehead is

“Without HER even the HERO is 0.” “You must be a perfect lier, you told me I was yours. I was perfectly fooled by your kind words, I was fooled by your wrong truths, I too was fooled by your fake smile. Am I foolish or you an outstanding lier.

Gender equality I don’t know if any day, by any way I can thank Nirmal? He is one of the bests among my earned ones. I am influenced by his every little way he does things. In big cities, they would probably name it love and complete the dance with