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Blight of Social Commentary

Let me paint this visual for your eyes, It is a lazy laid back warm afternoon, the verandahs are still your only quinessntial medium of communication with world and people outside without stepping out of the comfort of your home. A glance from a verandah to another is an invitation in silence, it is a language of intimation with eyes. This weather draws families to this pod for every human is a social animal.Over tea or coffee with snacks, discussions brew within and outside the family and they ususally end there itself. They revolve around the upcoming world cup or the local elections, few people discuss markets and some pupils dilate at such whisperings. Mostly it is the gossip that survives a session, the potpurri of happenings around the society or sometimes the world is where the aroma of excitement never dies within one room but spreads from house to house. It was a time when thoughts had a very little chance in becoming a idea that grips a nation overnight.

Things have changed dramatically, technology whose purported meaning was to make life easier has now engaged societies, people or even nations at scales unimaginable. Every single thought now has the capabilitiy of become an idea. No matter good or bad or worse. With the means of communication at our fingertips, is the conscious movement of people driven by an idea tearing down the social constructs of “individualistic decisions and its sole consequences”? In simpler words, do we still have the capacity to originate an original idea and stand by it ? Or even better, do we have the time even to sit and gauge the idea that is being pushed down our throats? Can we like old times, sleep over a perception, or research over an idea? Is the entire construct of developing ideas and perception has been affected by the huge unavoidable influx of social commentary driven by humans drunk on an Idealogy?

In a time, where the definition of freedom is debated, can we debate the individualistic freedom of making self driven decisions? It is almost ironical that this is a social commentary, another idea pushed down by a social means but there is no end to this circle. I would sleep over this off, Its a weekend, let it be like that.

Shashank Bhardwaj

beauty, creative-writing, Fiction & Poetry, fiction and poetry, Life, Love, Poems, Poetry, Writings

The Facade of Symmetry


How brutal would it be,
to draw a line in the air on something
of interest, with your eyes:
to be in awe of the subdued parallax
and then simply call it beautiful.

Won’t your fingers itch before doing so?
Won’t they feel the need to caress the surface
before labeling its existence beyond question?

Won’t your tongue go dry of thirst
seeing its colors untasted and unspilled.

Do you really love,
symmetry to this extent?
You forgot the chaos
you were born in.

© Shashank Bhardwaj

beauty, creative-writing, Fiction & Poetry, fiction and poetry, Heart, Life, Love, Poems, Poetry

To melt is to forget.

I wish the glasses
in the broken mirror
to melt and take my face along
with the lonely sharp edges.
Let us turn together
into a faceless silver
that floats and floats,
but never expresses its tides.

How good would it be,
to start all over again
to let others search for you,
for days and nights,
but you are there inside,
you were always there
and no one cared back then
and now when you are melted and pure,
they simply lose their minds.

How good would it be
to again become a newborn child,
with just curiosity in the head
and with no taste of memory.

I could laugh again,
again and again
without knowing the reasons
to stop.

© Shashank Bhardwaj

dream, Fiction & Poetry, fiction and poetry, Life, Love, Poems, poetry


as the dawn
proceeds to the dusk,

a thousand images
of this beautiful world,
rotate and change,
sublime visions,

my capillaries,
and adrenaline
burst straight up
like a heroin abuser
drowning in a pool of dreams.

for I have been summoned
to peek in this kaleidoscope,
we sometimes call life,
and I just stare.

the mirrors would shatter soon,
the music will slither in,
it would be dark and damp.

Just as I dreamt once.
that night.

fiction and poetry, Heart, Life, lost, Writings


You can easily write
about the love you feel,
the pain you endure,
of fantasies that immerses you
for hour and hours

about the beasts that scare you,
or a war you never took part in
or the plague that took over the world
and the the aftermath
but even after writing all this,

if while trying to write
about yourself and your life
mirroring your own thoughts,
if words fail to come out,
then you have a long way to go,
a lot to write,
and think about.

Articles, fiction and poetry, fiction&writing, Freehand Writing, Life, Memories, Poems, Poetry, Prose, think, Writings

World Without Glasses

Imagine a world without glasses,
with dull walls all around,
nowhere to see your face,
Nothing to brighten the light,
just dead walls,
no car windows,
no skyline view up from above,
no magical liquid contained in beer mugs,
Few people won’t be able to see around,
Few will be disillusioned,
but when someone asks me,
I say,
without glasses,
there would be no compare,
between beautiful and ugly,
between today and tommorow,
between wants and haves,
between where someone is from and where someone is going.
simple as that.

© Shashank Bhardwaj.