A Miserable Truth — World Poetry Day!

Before I begin, a belated Happy World Poetry Day to each one of you! I know I’m late, but better late than never! On this eventful occasion, I would like to bring the following miserable topic out of the darkness. Let’s discuss about it once you’ve read the poem. I’d really want to know what you think about this particular tragedy surrounding us, which (talking for myself) has been an elephant in the room all my life.

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A Miserable Truth

I’m hungry.
Feed me with life.

I’m dying.
Save my bleeding heart with your own.

I’m lost.
Search for me in the depths of your soul.

I’m suffering.
Kill me now & free me soon.

I’m done.
The word dignity has lost it’s worth.

I’m helpless.
There’s nothing I could’ve done to change time’s course.

I’m struggling.
The grip of death around my neck, chokes me.

I’m regretful.
If only I hadn’t left my toes off the ground, I’d change my fate.

I’m hazed.
The world has turned red, just like the sheets of my bed.

I’m screaming.
Although the screams don’t leave me, reminding me of the ones he muffled.

I’m impure.
Yet who would explain it to those people who say, “He’s your husband.”

I’m abandoned.
Not by his savagery, but by the ignorance that on-lookers’ eyes hold.

I’m infinite.
Now, only a minuscule digit added to the ever increasing number of marital rapes.


Post Script:

Marital Rape has been around our society since a long time, however, it is only recently that we’ve recognized how much harm can it cause to a person’s well-being and state of mind. I believe one of the reasons why it is hurtful to see the number of victims raising, is because a marital rape isn’t the sole thing that a person is put up against. It comes laced with the hurtful spikes of domestic violence and sexual assault.

Somehow, I feel responsible for this. I feel responsible for not being loud enough in supporting those victims to speak up.
As a human, it is our duty to help them but what have we done? Slammed the door of hope on them when they tried to seek haven from their dear friends. If the ones trusted by them do not support their stand then how would they find the courage to register a complaint?

Coming to India, I would like to quote Section 375 and Section 376:

Section 375, the provision of rape in the Indian Penal Code (IPC), has echoing very archaic sentiments, mentioned as its exception clause- “Sexual intercourse by  man with his own wife, the wife not being under 15 years of age, is not rape.” Section 376 of IPC provides punishment for rape. According to the section, the rapist should be punished with imprisonment of either description for a term which shall not be less than 7 years but which may extend to life or for a term extending up to 10 years and shall also be liable to fine unless the woman raped is his own wife, and is not under 12 years of age, in which case, he shall be punished with imprisonment of either description for a term which may extend to 2 years with fine or with both.

Source: Marital Rape and the Indian legal scenario

It’s funny how a man can only be charged if he rapes his wife who is under the age of 12! Contradicting it’s own code, we are well aware that the legal age of marriage for a girl is 18 years of age. At this point, I’m truly clueless.

That’s why, all I ask of you, is to understand the depth of the scars we cannot see on the bodies of people around us.
All I ask of you, is to help such people when in need and be the reason someone finds their courage. I’m nobody. But together we might be somebody’s reason to be alive. That’s all I hope to achieve and to see the numbers reduce.

Have a great week! Thank you for making it so far!


© The Honest Fabler — Ashutosh Gursale
© Image Source — Google Images

 

Mumbai Locals

MUMBAI LOCALS

You haven’t seen Mumbai’s most remarkable side,
Until you’ve been through an enthralling local ride.
Inheriting a variety of passengers having some rude souls to some really pretty,
It’s not for nothing that it’s nicknamed- ‘lifeline of the city’.

Where 08:13 is 08:13, not a minute more or less,
When one train would be called off the charts nobody can guess.
Having no assurance of whether all days may go according to plan,
It’s always a good decision to start as early as you can.

Instilling punctuality in an individual at it’s best,
It’s only during monsoons that the system slightly goes down to rest.
From beginning the journey to reaching a destination,
One can witness a plethora of human emotions.

Rediscovering the daredevil inside you that you never knew,
‘Cause one day you finally boarded a running train to become one of the very few.
Transforming non-peak hours to observe a bogie shopping spree,
Children can be found selling to earn for their happiness and glee.

The bhajan kirtans after a tiresome day is enough to win over your heart,
No other songs can be compared to these melodies in your ipod or mp3 cart.
The new folks seem confused after going through the Local-Lines Map,
While the regular folks can be spotted having a blissful nap.

Window seats are the ones which spontaneously get filled,
So the rest choose to stand footboard to enjoy the warm thrills of the wind.
Some shouting curses to get inside the crowded train with a brawl,
But to sum up it makes routine feel a less dreary overall.

Sometimes trains may get late,
Sometimes there are mishaps taking place,
With an equivalent probability of when a ticket-checker and another calamity will arrive,
The perpetual spirits and hopes of Mumbaikars is what keeps the city alive.


About the Author

Radhika Ravindra

A book sniffer, photophile and an amicable soul who’s a big fan of unplanned trips with a good-humoured company.
A badminton fanatic and a compulsive procrastinator whose desirous mind is very proud of her music playlist.
Embellishes getting lost into the world of Marvel Cinematic Universe, Hogwarts and is a spirited writer at the Honest Fabler since 18 March 2018.


© The Honest FablerRadhika Ravindra
© Image Source — Google

Autumn of one’s life

A gray old woman sits all alone
Unloved, uncherished and unknown.
Sitting beside her broken door.
Dreaming of days past long ago,
When children played about her knee,
Filling the air with childish glee,
Tended by her with loving care.
Knowing the blessing of a Mother’s prayer.
But now they have gone, each to his life
A girl to her husband, a boy to his wife,
Forgetful are they of her who sits here,
Silently wiping a tricking tear,
For striving for things in a life so brief,
Blind their poor eyes to a dear Mother’s grief.
But does she upbraid them in word or in mind.
Nor does their neglect to her seem unkind.
She’ll forgive and forget all unkindness they’ve shown
This poor old mother who sits alone.
I see the sadness in your eyes,
The times that you are knowing
What’s happening to your wondrous mind,
The symptoms you are showing.

It was so hard to recognize,
When they started coming through.
The little things that changed you
From the person that I knew.

The doctor’s confirmation
Was so hard to accept,
To know that little could be done,
That there’s no cure as of yet.

Forgive me, dear, if sometimes
I give in to my frustrations.
It’s just so overwhelming,
This change in our relations.

Now I’m the one to be on guard,
To keep you safe from harm,
Protecting you the best I can
And not showing my alarm.

I hope you still can understand
How much you mean to me.
Though you curse me, or forget me,
I’ll accept what has to be.

For I will still remember
The joys that we once shared.
You showed me in so many ways
How very much you cared.

I pray to God to give me strength
To do what must be done,
To trust that in the future
This battle will be won.

© The Honest Fabler- Pooja Mukherjee
©Image Source-www.googleimages.com

Umbrella – An Impromptu Fable

The Polka Dotted Umbrella

It wasn’t my choice to get polka dotted umbrella, but my mom insisted and I couldn’t reject.

I was 10, back then. Yet I understood enough and hated the girly color of it.
At times, when the rain came in after our school ended I avoided to take it out and would rather get wet. I was sure my school mates won’t let me just live with it. Especially, Ronit, my next door bully. When we were children, we were the best of friends but these days he didn’t even acknowledge me in school.

Obviously, my mom knew I did it on purpose and still tried to explain me how the judgement of others don’t matter. So, I did it. Three months after I got the umbrella, on an afternoon after school the rain pour started. I remembered her words and dared to open it. It took me a lot of courage to take the embarrassing shade out but I was close to my home & the road was almost deserted. I sighed with relief.

But oh, I wasn’t so lucky. I noticed Ronit waiting under a roof of a grocery store and my feet went cold.
I froze in my tracks and waited for him to go ahead. If he saw me now, my school life would be a mess.
I waited for a minute or two, but then the most unexpected thing happened. He checked left, then right.
‘All clear’ he must’ve said it and he took out the same umbrella I held in my hands.
“Another Polka Dots!” I laughed a little too loud but muffled my face.
He must’ve heard my laugh, for sure, because he stared right at me with his eyes open in terror.
His secret is in the open! He ran to me, his cheeks burning red with embarrassment.
“Look, Arush. I-”
“It’s okay, look.” I pointed towards my own display of embarrassment and he looked up.

He started laughing when he realized we are in this, together. “Our little secret?” He offered me his hand. “Our little secret!” I shook it & all those years of lost contact came back to me in that moment. Little did I know, an Umbrella would break our invisible barrier.


©The Honest Fabler
©Image credits – Ashutosh Gursale (@frames&fables)

Prismatic Life

As clouds express their sweet refrain
And we are blessed by morning rain.

When rainbows form in misty skies
Clouds present treasures for our eyes.

There is a rainbow in my world today,
With every word you write my way.
Colors of emotions flow in harmony,
as they spread across the sky in unity.
Wrap me in your red, orange and blue,
fill me with the purple passion of you.
You make the sky shine after that rain,
softly your soul pushes away the pain.
In every luxurious line that you say,
you are the rainbow in my world today.

Colours of life

White, as far as the eye can see snow had finally arrived to every place but me..

Black, Shadows lurk the streets strikes fear into my heart and finds the soul he eats..

Green,eyes never ending in that one shade rare but findable frightening but lovely a creation in which evolution has made..

Blue,the ocean has a calm and safe feeling an Unstoppable full of emotion you look and see it will never stop seeking..

Red,Flames lightning up one by one heat fills the space as well as hate close your eyes and hope this will be undone..

Yellow, illumination covers my site the colour has blinded my view and I am the only one to witness this light..

Purple, my own realistic fantasy a dream where the world is different and I am forced to see..

Orange, and year of happiness is now here energy flows through me until the power is surrounding us everywhere.

Everywhere we see the passion in these colours of life we embrace.

© The Honest Fabler- Pooja Mukherjee
©Image Source-Myself

Master of Death — Story behind something huge.

Becoming the Master of Death.

If you’re a Harry Potter fan, then brace yourself and skip the next few paragraphs.(You can still read the quoted story to get nostalgic.) But in case you’re a muggle, I’m sorry but you’ll have to read the next few paragraphs to really get the depth of what I’m about to reveal.

Have you seen the symbol before?

If your answer’s yes, then skip to the quoted story. If no:
Popularly known as “The Deathly Hallows”. Rooted from the Wizardry World presented to muggles(humans) by J.K Rowling. The symbol is a representation of the three gifts given by Death, itself, to three brothers.(Don’t worry you’ll understand everything in the story.) The triangle is the Invisibility Cloak. The in-circle is the Resurrection Stone. The median is the Elder Wand.

Do you know what they really mean?

If your answer’s yes, then why the heck are you wasting your time reading this? I told you to skip to the QUOTED STORY. You’re still reading this, aren’t you? Your waste anyway. So here’s the story, in the words of  Beedle the Bard.

The Tales of Beedle the Bard 

Three brothers, travelling along a lonely, winding road at twilight reached a deep treacherous river where anyone who attempted to swim or wade would drown. Learned in the magical arts, the brothers conjured a bridge with their wands and proceed to cross.

The Peverell brothers receive the items, and then go their separate ways to meet their fates

Halfway though the bridge, a hooded figure stood before them. The figure was the enraged spirit of Death, cheated of his due. Death cunningly pretended to congratulate them and proceeds to award them with gifts of their own choosing.

 

The eldest brother, a combative man, asked for a wand more powerful than any in existence. Death granted his wish by fashioning the Elder Wand from a branch of a nearby elder tree standing on the banks of the river.

 

The second brother, an arrogant man, chose to further humiliate death, and asked for the power to recall the deceased from the grave. Death granted his wish by crafting the Resurrection Stone from a stone picked from the riverbank. The third and youngest brother, who was the most humble and wise, did not trust Death and asked for something to enable him to go forth without Death being able to follow. A reluctant Death, most unwillingly, handed over his own Invisibility Cloak.

 

The three brothers took their prizes and soon went on their separate ways.

 

The eldest brother traveled to a village where a wizard whom he had quarreled lived. He sought out a duel and fought the wizard using the wand, instantly killing the latter.

 

Leaving his enemy dead upon the floor, the eldest brother walked to an inn not far from the duelling site and spent the night there. Taken by his conscience and lust of the Elder Wand’s power, the eldest brother boasted of this wand gifted by Death and his own invincibility.

 

That very night, Death transfigured to a murderous wizard. The unknown murderous wizard crept to the inn as the eldest brother slept, drunk from wine. The wizard slit the oldest brother’s throat for good measure and stole the wand. That was when Death took the first brother.

“Greeting Death as an old friend, they departed this life as equals.”

 

The second brother returned to his home where he lived alone. Turning the stone thrice in his hand the figure of the girl he had once hoped to marry, before her untimely death, appeared at once before him, much to his delight. Yet she was sad and cold, separated from him as by a veil. Though she had returned to the mortal world, she did not truly belong there and suffered. Finally the second brother, driven mad with hopeless longing, committed suicide by hanging from his house’ balcony so as truly to join her. That was when Death took the second brother for his own.

 

Death searched for the youngest brother as years passed but never succeeded. It was only when the third brother reached a great age, he took off the Cloak of Invisibility and gave it to his son.

 

“Greeting Death as an old friend, they departed this life as equals.”

SO, now that you know what it means in the story here’s a little meaning of it from my side. The triangle resembles Success-and-Failure. The Circle represents Happiness-and-Sadness while the line is made of challenges, obstacles and difficulties we face and thus divides everything equally on both sides.

Still wondering what my point is? It is that, since I’ve been a deep admirer and a lover of wizardry world I carved it under my skin.

YES, I INKED THE DEATHLY HALLOWS ON ME. I am the FREAKING MASTER OF DEATH. :’)

There are a lot of things to be tattooed on me, but I wanted this to be my first in order to depict how much it really means to me. Here’s the video of it magically turning from a messy design to a satisfying symbol of deathly hallows.

Let me know what you feel about the tattoo! And if there’s any problem loading the video, check it out on Facebook: Here!

Love Harry Potter? Check this out! The Rants of a Lost Wizard (A Poem)

Dripsy Dropsy

Monsoon’s Dripsy Dropsy Rhythm

Falling Down, pooling up,
Out of the sky, into my cup.
What is this wet that comes from above,
That some call disaster, and others find love.
The harder it falls, the less it is nice,
The colder it falls the harder the ice.
The rain has an art that I may not get,
So I stand still here and get soaking wet.
Red, blue or cream.
They all shout in joy,
Rain you always come in my dream.
Whenever it rains, I feel so free
Free as a bird, rain is my life
Washing away my troubles
Quenching my sun-baked soul
While others rush for cover
I stroll among the empty streets
The rain dancing upon my lips.


©The Honest FablerPooja Mukherjee
©Image Source – Google Images

A BLACK RAY

Did you listen?

I have felt like this for a while,
but I have kept it all inside.
This time, though, its way too much,
I do not think that I can not cry.
This sense of loss and emptiness,
most people feel it too.
I hope if I don’t voice it,
it will pass on through.

This feeling has not passed,
I think it’s here to stay.
Yet, what is making me feel this,
I really cannot say or lest sense the hope’s ray.
It’s more like something is missing,
than something causing pain.
It’s messing with my mind,
it makes me feel insane.

I have realized something though,
it’s only for me to decide.
Do I want to live my life,
or always wonder why?

A life where no one even knows I exist,
where everything I have ever known was a lie.
A life where everyone avoids me,
where I become just an another forgotten memory.

A life where I question whether the world I am living in is real, or a figment of my imagination,
where nothing seems familiar,
and I forget where I am,
and I don’t know how to get back home.
Destined to walk this lonely world,
forever,
Lost…

I try to tell myself
but the cuts tell me different.
What am I to do with all these dreams of
death and tormenting?
Am I to lock it up and hide my feelings?
That seems the only way.
But why can’t I be saved again?
Am I so damaged that I can’t be saved ?
Broken with every care in my heart.
Do I even have a heart anymore ?
Can I show love anymore ?
Can I smile without hiding how I really feel?
It goes on and on and I have nothing.
No one,forever,
Lost…


©The Honest FablerPooja Mukherjee
©Image Source – Google Images

TRASH THE ASH

Who says being a quitter is a bad thing?

I have been strong for far too long, can’t keep the pace now.
I have been carrying on ,driving down the same old roads, I am losing faith, starting to lose face.
Seems it’s the same every day, seems nothing ever changes. I have nothing left to lose, there is nothing left to gain. There isn’t anything left to say.
These pills only kill the pain for just so long, just one more line and I will be able to go on. I have run out of cigarettes to smoke, I am down to my last shot of whiskey. I know that if I keep up this lifestyle, it will kill me .

Hold me close,do not let me go,I find myself becoming my own worst enemy.Hold me tight ,don’t let my mind take flight .It is getting harder for me to breathe.I need a helping hand ,someone to save me from myself ,because I do not think I can and I do not know how much more I can stand. I feel I have lost my mind,all concept of time,I go to extreme just to unwind .

I am sorry if my words have brought you down ,it seems like you are always around,for the good and the bad days,when I am feeling crazy,a touch of insane.You get it all ,the best of me and the worst of me ,now that I am down on my knees,crying please.I realise it’s you who whispers to me calmly,soothing away the misery.It is you who makes me want to straighten out and get clean.I know there is a better way to ease my pain ,I do not need drugs to make myself feel sane .I have you brighten those darker days .


©The Honest FablerPooja Mukherjee
©Image Source – Google Images

Captioning Photographs

Pre-Script:

If you’re a writer and you’ve got friends who do photography or, well, post any kinda posts you’ve heard this:
“Bhai is photo pe caption dede”
Translation: Bro, give me a caption for this photograph.

A few months ago, I did this:-

Jokes apart, the sole reason I do it is, I get a good subject to write upon. So, it’s kinda a thank you note to those photographers who have given me such great subjects to write upon. The amount of amazing shots that I’ve seen, inspired me to try photography myself. (Obviously on my phone, I’ll show it to you, soon.)
Here are two of the recent photos that I wrote a caption for and they’ve left me perplexed!
They’ve perfect lighting, The perfect feel and the perfect message.
Please make sure you see the amazing instagram feed of these photographers and I assure you, the job of blowing your mind will be done by their work.

Flowing Water — by Ameya Parab (@photo_scopic)

captioning photograph
Over the course of time, a strong rock may not be moved by the stream but it’s edges, for sure, would give way to the mighty droplets to flow ❤

A passionate photographer of the nature and potraits alike, Ameya, is an enthusiast who always carries his camera everywhere he goes. There’s rarely an occasion that I’ve seen him without his camera and he’s always behind the lens.

Camera Man — by Akash Nair(@akxshn)

captioning photographs
Walk barefooted on the dirt.
Capture strange things.
Talk to strange faces.
Hug the paved roads.
Kiss every rain’s droplet.
Burn in the nature’s oven.
That’s all he does & That’s all we should.

Isn’t this a masterpiece? A camera man resting on a pavement near the Gateway of India with his album open in front of him. The perfect timed shot is somehow very meaningful and so is the caption! I wonder how talented is the guy who wrote it. XD Just kidding! Check out Akash’s insta feed for more such masterpieces!

Original Idea for “Minimalism” — by Omkar Borade(@omkarborade)

captioning photograph
Captured on a Camera Phone!

I can’t believe it, either! Omkar sure does prove that camera phones can do wonders if used right. Don’t forget to check out his gallery, he has tons of amazing CAMERA PHONE shots!
Warning: NOOB CONTENT AHEAD.

captioning photograph
Crows on a wire
captioning photograph
IDK what this is called, Evolved version of a simple streetlight? XD
captioning photographs
Simple Streetlight

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


All the images are subject to copyright. If reused please make sure you give the credits to the rightful owners.
AND I don’t own the first 3 amazing shots. I can only click the once at the bottom xD.

Adios!