The Truth About Our Beautiful Nation

I have compiled a Glossary to support the interpretation of my work. Feel free to check it out and enjoy reading. :)

[Side note- This is not just for my nation but all nations as a whole.]

Thanks for this! +Plain Jane (✈👩) 
www.plainjane.in

The fighter planes which once

Soiled the blue canvas
Painted it with black
Are forgotten now
But the light blue sky still remains
Unforgotten
'Cause beauty is beheld
But the pain ricochets.

Where orange is the new black
And mankind goes insane over
Black market blues and catcalls
Where emotions have no outlet
And humanity is capsized by wrecking balls
The truth about our beautiful nation
Lies behind the white walls.

The upper part is reflection and
the lower part is reality.

Here females are either treated as goddesses

Or are victims of eve teasing.
Here rape verdicts are left in a limbo
And its victims are stated guilty.
We talk of a changing world
But there's a dearth of equality.
We preach feminism
But forget to enforce it.

Oh! How the night sky longs for stars

Now that they're obliterated
By grey clouds of pollution
And the Earth seeks asylum
From the violet rays of the Sun.
The allegedly holy waters
Carry ungodly chunks of litter
And the ecosystem
Just keeps getting better.

Thanks again! +Plain Jane (✈👩) 

The traffic is overwhelming
I'll drive rash but I'll drop you home
The green lights go down
But I won't slow down
This is the race of my life
And sure as hell, I'm not going to lose it
Dear fellow traveller.

Ministers, mercenaries, marauders, mafias
Not merely sources of alliteration
They are the bases of political contamination
A menace to the entire civilization
They speak in rhetoric
Act without remorse
Deliver white lies
And dissemble black truths.

For more, visit raginianand.strikingly.com

Here economic measures go faulty

There is no point of satiety
And money has the power to transmute
Negative to affirmative.
The poor work, the rich earn
We feed ambrosia to the Deity
And the poor die of hunger.
This is our nation
Where sensitivity is determined
Through likes, comments and shares.

The dark is rising

Where orange is the new black
And mankind goes insane over
Black market blues and catcalls
Where emotions have no outlet
And humanity is capsized by wrecking balls
The truth about our beautiful nation
Lies behind the white walls.

For more, visit raginianand.strikingly.com
& iglooonthebeach.blogspot.in

We are living in an ivory tower

Blessed with milk and honey
We throw away the lemons offered by life
And drink lemonade from martini glasses
We sleep on beds of roses
And savour life like a piece of cake
Oblivious as we are.
The beacon calls, the fire alarm moans
The time has come
To confront the thorns
To bring to our nation a new morn
We have to revamp the wreck
We have to bring halcyon days back to the deck
And all we need is a reality check
And all we need is a reality check.

A Reverie at Prairie

The green meadows of renaissance

Fete me home
Thriving on the earth
From roots of uncertainty
Resuscitating cerebral equanimity
Calefaction replaces hypothermia
And as I sip from the demitasse
Of plummeting agony
Flumped onto a wooden swing
Of lachrymose nostalgia
Satiety plenishes me again.

As my vision goes blurry, almost languid
My vagrant eyes decamp and go instead
To where the grass is not so green
A water pump, still upright
Almost overlooked, I espy
More rust than varnish
The orange-blue majesty
Possesses amour propre nevertheless
I wonder if 'tis aware of its flaws
Or is it just dissimulating into resilience
Irrespective?

I recollect my moments.
I'd whine at the sight of a blemish
Imprecate karma for my woes
And envy mankind
For their blithe and buoyant lives
The grass is always greener
On the other side, They say.
How could I be remiss enough
Not to see haven in my stormy eyes?
The way my lips curl to form a smile?
How my cheeks scintillate after a walk of a mile?

The grass embosoms me like quicksand
And the grassland palpitates its heart out
Hailing
'Hasta la vista!' As I stride across
The thoroughfares of reality again.

Picture credits: +Elomere 

Morning Mayday

I let my yonderly soul drift
Through the holy emboss
Crucify my sacrileges
Upon the blest Cross
And when my
Morning Mayday moans
I relinquish it with finesse
Facading every facet poss.

Oh My Savior, the Son of God
Why art thou hiding in the cloister
Of my brain?
What maelstorms dost thou have
To bestow me with?
I have pulverised
All that tried to collapse me
And in the light of thy aura
I will vanquish every tempest
With your heraldry.

Picture credits: +Skylark Hatee 

Broken Wheels Lament

Behold the beauty
The universe seems all 
About tulips and lilacs
About fresh green cover
And the deep blue sky

Cartwheels- The
Unsung heroes of yester year
Which then ploughed
The barren, sterile lands 
Complementary with the Herculean bull
Lie wrecked on the Elysian Fields

The rest of the world can't hear
Broken wheels lament.

Picture credits: +David Palmer 

Guest Post #1 - Igloo On The Beach

http://iglooonthebeach.blogspot.in/2016/01/serious-11-words-for-true-identity.html

It used to be our laughter that made me cry,

not the pain;

Your silly attempts at making me smile,

would always crack me a up a little bit.

Now you're gone, 

taking the fresh air along;

Being alone is okay with me,

but the loneliness tears me apart.

Things were different before,

when I hadn't told about my true self,

at least your eyes weren't full of hatred,

and your face not disgusted.

You're making me feel as though I've betrayed you,

you're behaving all different, that's all;

But as a friend you should be happy,

that I'm being who I actually am, and not hiding behind some veil.

A veil of fake emotions 

is what was protecting me all this while,

from people like them, from people like you

who wouldn't accept me the way I actually am.

Now you're gone, 

taking the fresh air along;

Being alone is okay with me,

but the loneliness tears me apart.

This is a poem I literally just wrote in two minutes. It can be perceived in many ways, but I'd like to steer it in the direction of a man who's friend has stopped talking to him because he admitted to being gay. Something I don't understand is why there is discrimination in this world. Let's narrow it down to discrimination on the basis of sexuality or self-identity. Why is it so hard for us not only as individuals, but also as a nation, to accept these differences? Why can't we just live with it by accepting the fact that there are different category of people on our planet, instead of dismissing them like they're not human. Just because this idea had evolved recently and is comparatively newer than the very conventional two genders or types of sexuality, doesn't mean it's wrong. Ever heard of evolution? This may just be another form of it. Just like we have different types of bees, fish, dogs and other animals, why can't we, for the sake of humanity, drop our "I'm the king/queen of the animal kingdom" ego and categorise ourselves into different types of humans? 

To be very, very honest, if a Eunuch lands up at my house asking for money, I'd be startled too. But what other choice do they have? It's our society itself that doesn't accept them, or provide them with jobs to enable them to be independent. The human race would honestly be a lot happier if everyone just accepted each other the way they are.

Thanks a ton for reading, comment down below with your views on the topic, please do share the post; it is a very important topic, and must be dealt with!

Anyone who wants to do work with me? Look here :)

R.I.P Alan Rickman, the man behind Severus Snape :(

- +Ragini Zutshi Anand 

Her blog is BOMB, as I like to call it. And you really got to visit her blog at least once.

Also, it's her birthday tomorrow. HAPPY BIRTHDAY IN ADVANCE RAZZY! :3

~ Mahak ツ

In The Night

I have named it 'In the night' because it is this song by The Weeknd which inspired me to write on this issue. The base story includes a f real-life experiences of a go-go dancer so as to make it sound more realistic.

She isn't the regular white-collar worker. She is of the stuff what werewolves are generally made of- she isn't at night what she seems to be in the daytime.

It was her first night at the club.
Stiff and unable to find the groove in the song's rhythm, she tried to shimmy into it with her eyes closed. It was when she opened her eyes that she discovered the hush about her.

Tattooed men in pony tails and handkerchiefs banded around their foreheads, women in black-leather vests and hot pants, and smoke so dense she didn't even see the first beer bottle hurtling through it. When it crashed a few feet to her left the bartender flew after it and yelled at her to just keep dancing. Somehow, amid the hooting, booing and catcalls, she did.
"Go back to the convent where ya came from!" came a voice from the ruckus as another couple of bottles landed on either side of her. She had set out to make $20 as one of the three girls dancing that night, and she wasn't leaving without it. She danced in a trance. 

Her nine-to-five, five-day-a-week job as secretary to the hospital administrator at the City Hospital netted her only a bit more for the week than her Saturday job, moonlighting as a go-go dancer. Somewhere amidst the paper bills and the crowd of slugs writhing and leering at her she discovered herself pirouetting on the nefarious beats. It wasn't her fate, it was her obligation. An obligation to reimburse the $20 she was being paid, an obligation to dance not because she loved to but because it was her means of subsistence, an obligation to enthral the inhuman douchebags with her physical comeliness because she was a woman.

As the sweat pours down my fishnet stockings, these guys think they're gonna take me home and score, while I'm wondering if I can throw in a load of laundry before I heat up the leftover lasagna.
~An anonymous go-go dancer

The Chemistry Between Hearts

The pupils forged ahead like warriors do on hearing the war siren. 'Thank you ma'am!' This time it was a concise one, unlike the usual extended syllables one. After all, it was the lunch break.

Everybody stormed through the battlefield, ready to foray, but one retreated. No, he wasn't a coward. He was the bravest. The staunchest. 

'So you were waiting for me.' said a voice which emanated from his posterior.

'Yes, Anaya.' 

'How come you still remember me?'

'You know why.'

And there they advanced, on the war-struck land, which had now been at peace due to evacuation. Holding each other's hands they strided, marching with the same gait, like soldiers with patriotism in their hearts. It was love, not voluptuousness.

'I love you, Anaya.'

'Love you too.'

Herein she reduced to what she was- a faint memory. Memory, which he had held captive in his mind all these days, memories which made him forget she was not in this world anymore. Memories, which made her a part of him.

The elements in their hearts formed covalent bonds which could never be separated from each other.
~The Chemistry Between Hearts ❤

Love has a perpetual succession- Men may come and men may go but love goes on forever. Love never dies.                              

In the memory of my late grandmother. Love you DADI! You'll always be alive in my memory. May your soul rest in peace!

Rat Race In The Corporate World

Rat race is an endless, self-defeating and pointless pursuit. It conjures up the futile efforts of a lab rat trying to escape while running around a maze or a wheel. There is no end to it.

In a day, people spend about 7 hours sleeping, 2 to 3 hours watching TV, doing household chores or enjoying some private time with siblings, spouses or their children, and another 2 to 3 hours relaxing or socialising with friends, maybe. The rest of the time, about 10 to 12 hours, is spent at the workplace.

This implies that about 50% of your life revolves around the place you work. So dragging yourself to work every day, dreading interacting with your colleagues and avoiding your boss will get you nowhere. To quote Confucius, "Do not do unto others what you don't want others to do unto you." Change your attitude before you expect others to modify their attitude towards you. This way you can sustain in this rat race.

But looking at this from another point of view, at the bright side, competition breeds progress. Innovative products, remarkable technologies and consumer convenience are just a few examples of how competition improves our lives on a daily basis.

"The trouble with rat race is that even if you win, you're still a rat," according to Lily Tomlin.

If you love being a rat, do it.

I MATTER

I'm not air

I'm not water

Neither am I food

Nor a desire that you long for

No, you don't need me

And can definitely live without me

But darling, i do matter.

I can feel the air blowing for me

My heart pounding for me

The Sun propagating light

The Moon beaming and

The ants crushed beneath my feet dying

FOR ME

Ego is your nature

Nature is my ego

And as i tread past the eternal lake

Which contemplates my mortal anatomy

Birds chirping over me

And the calm sky gazing at me

I whisper to myself

I Matter. I do.

MASOCHIST

There was a time
When we were young
And used to live in an orphanage
And had nothing to hold onto
Except each other.
Remember that time?
I don’t think so.

You were fragile
I supported you
Bore all your troubles
I was a sieve
And you, the vessel beneath me.
I got all the bad
And you got all the good
And you thought
You were the good in my bad
And I, the bad in your good.
But was it really true?
I don’t think so.

But that’s how you made me think.
Counted my flaws
When I concealed yours.
I know you baby.
Now I know you.
You loved me ’cause
I was useful to you
Or maybe it wasn’t love at all.
But having grown up
My well built body
Seems to be of no use to you
Now that you’ve got
That other girl to love
That slim, slender, svelte and chic.
Do you need me anymore?
I don’t think so.

You probably thought I was a masochist
Thought I could bear it all
Just like I bore your difficulties.
Thought I won’t feel hurt
Because I was strong enough.
Thought I won’t be affected
Because I loved to take that pain.
Yeah, maybe I was a masochist
To risk my life for you
To love you
To let you go with her.
Maybe I loved that pain, I muse
As I hit the sandbag
For what seems like the zillionth time.
Stripped knuckles, dripping sweat
And I still think about you
Gazing at my protruding muscles.
You are my best memory
And the worst one.
And now I lay exhausted
Rejoicing in my loneliness.
Yeah, now I believe I am a masochist
Still reminiscing you after all these years
When I know it will just hurt me.
Baby do you miss me the same?
Ha. I don’t think so.

PHOSPHENES

Ever wondered what 

Those random dancing patterns you see

After rubbing your eyes

Or after sneezing are?

That light you see

Without light entering the organs of vision?

They’re all around you

And inside you

Omnipresent

Like the Gods resting in nirvana

Unseen, unknown, unacknowledged

Yet booming in screaming colors.

The iridescent colors fostered by aquivering lights

Triggered by a fondle.

Steering you out of darkness

Though not affecting the slim shady

In you- the darkness in your soul.

How can words

Describe their ineffable splendor?

Close your eyes

And see a new world come to life!

EPHEMERAL

I never felt my heartbeat as deep as I do tonight. I can feel my heart falling for you, the black in my eyes has ended its search here. 

‘Is this love?’ I ask the heaven above.

And in my eyes, the black in the white is scintillating reflecting the white which is in the black above… And thus the heaven has given its consent. Heaven must have known.

The ephemeral glow has now retreated and I can see the permanence in front of me- the ever-shining star... you.

Though your glow is everlasting, this moment is ephemeral. And I don’t want to lose you. I want to embrace your light so that the darkness in this world doesn’t obliterate it. I want to even walk with you on the thorns, when life ain't being a bed full of roses. The demons inside me yearn to affiliate with the saint inside you. Can you be mine? ❤

It Was A Rainy Day

The slanting raindrops were caressing my nose, cheeks and arms partly and the puddles were drenching my legs. Even if you are carrying an umbrella, you get drenched anyway. Then what use is it? I shut the umbrella and moved on. Now the raindrops were falling directly on me, but this time it was my soul which was getting washed up. All the sad memories diffused out and my mind was consumed with the buoyant ones. I realised that rainfall is not just falling of raindrops, it’s the renaissance of the soul. Meanwhile, my interpretation about rainfall was interrupted by a soft voice which was contrasting to the thunderstorm striking the heaven above. I didn’t exactly hear what he said. Maybe he said something like ‘What is the way to…?’ and I had yet another philosophical answer to that ‘Dark is the way and light is the place.’ But I kept my dying urge. What tantalized me was his voice. I had heard it before.
There was a boy. We recognised each other. We were two parted lovers who could never gather the courage to say those three words.

But now that we were together and that too in such a burning weather, we could finally open our hearts out. I was about to open my umbrella, realising he might need it but he held my hand. So there we advanced, unfastening all the anchors of self control, pouncing into puddles, hands open wide to the raindrops, and singing out loud to the empty streets of town. We talked and talked, a paradigm of the jobless, like vagrants. For this moment, I could remain a vagrant forever.

The rain ceased and the sky had turned pitch-black. It was then that we realised we had to move to where we actually belonged, we could no longer live in our utopia. Oh, how I wished the rains never stopped! And my wish did come true, but this time it was the shower in my eyes. A shower of happiness for our reunion or of despair that we had to part again, I couldn't tell. We took our ways and moved on.

He turned and looked back at me. No, I wasn't stupefied, I saw that coming. Now I couldn’t control my emotions. I let it go, ran towards him and hugged him tight. I was almost all over him. He counter-hugged me even more strongly, the most fierce opponent I ever faced. Gradually, the hold loosened and we knew the battle was coming to an end. And like two warriors, still struggling for a last chance to defeat the other, we didn’t let go of each other’s hand. Now the battle ended, the only difference being that none of the side won. Each was too strong to be defeated by the other. Counterattackers? Counterparts.

I asked him where he had to go and if I could show him the way. He was new to this town, but that same old lover for me and the same pretending-to-forget person. This moment suddenly reminded me of how we met. It was when he forgot a particular destination, which I could point out as a pretence. I remember it was raining then. I remember his wet lemongrass aroma. Indeed, some déjà vus are bigger than other déjà vus. I could bet he knew the way now as well because he took the right street among the four, in the mid of which we stood and walked casually. He sucked at acting. I smirked. He took the road on the west and I took the one on the east. Exactly the opposite. Sigh. But looking at the bright side, opposites do attract. And after all, the sun has to return to rise in the east after it sets in the west. 

Just like one saves funds for a ‘rainy day’ (here, a time in future when money may be needed), we started planning for the rainy days yet to come in our lives.

Rainfall is sensual and magical- two souls interconnected by raindrops fall for each other. And that’s why it’s called ‘rainfall’!