By Hiren Mukherjee: I was the sentinel of the sky, Looking at the sky adorned with Clouds, stars, nebulas, I used to sing for myself. I was twenty or something then. One day, clouds on which stars used to ride, were Crushed to minute grains,
By Shruti Shreya: I open my eyes in pain. There’s a face looming over me. It is a nice man here who smiles at me. He is different. He looks pale, almost white in color. He is not from my village. It looks like he
By Tanaya Singh: It was 7:00 am, A time when the utopian world is new, bathed, combed, perfumed and dressed up for the day. At a time when night’s smoke is far of the chimney, and the beginning awaits its start, I moved out in
By Aishwarya Sharma: Blood dripping from the rafters Body parts lying around Sicken me to the core… Our great ‘leaders’ Have pimped themselves out Raped again and again All they can do is shout... Perhaps they have forgotten that day The 13th of December When
By Shruti Shreya: I sat at my window, gazing out, Not a soul in the woods, not one about. The great dark giants with their hands outstretched, Beckoning to the Phoebe as the clouds passed ahead. And then I saw that fluttering stranger, Emerging out
Bloodshed, Tears, Grief, Anguish, Around me. And I stare with eyes wide open, As if blind. Do I care enough? Everyday I hear of death and destruction. Every dawn I throw a careless glance, At the newspaper, full of new stories, Of ignorance, prejudice, manipulation
-कुंदन पांडे: ये कैसा उन्माद है इतना भीषण क्यूँ संग्राम है? कुछ ज़मीन के टुकड़ो में ऐसी क्या बात है? अंतहीन इस कोलाहल में किसकी जीत किसकी हार है? महाभारत है ये या महाभिशाप है 'सदा-इ-सरहद'* कुछ न कर पाया न कर सकी कुछ 'अमन की
-कुंदन पांडे: अपनों में सिमटी ममता में लिपटी खुद में खपती जीवन तुम रचती काया में ढलती प्रेम में पिघलती सतत तुम जलती प्राथना में रमती जीवन तुम रचती मोह तुम करती माया में फसती निर्माण करती वंश चलाती जीवन तुम रचती अपनों में सिमटी
- देविका मित्तल : कितने राजा आए , कितने शेहेनशाह गुज़रे, पर वह वही रहा | किले फ़तेह कर लिए जाए , या बनवा लिये जाए ताज कई, मरता वह ही है वह जिससे पूछा भी नहीं जाता की वह किसकी तरफ है, मरता वह ही है | किले