Glistening Eyes

https://lifeafter50forwomen.com/2022/04/18/what-do-you-see-130-18-april-2022/

(Exhales in knowledge..
Yet..)

Feisty eyes in search of something

Staring into the distant land. 

In a hope to find few unknown things

Some oddity, uniqueness,courage and-

Melancholic for it couldn’t find

Those rarities nearby

Took lots of effort to leave behind 

That lovely lust, and typical styles

Those eyes still fish their way sometimes, 

Though not visible tis’ desires pushed inside.

Perhaps still yearning to be realized

Those feisty two glistening eyes.

And silently asking to be alive..

This is a poem penned for What do you See? hosted by Sadje.. This poem puts one out of many realizations during times of contemplations.. Most often than not, in attempts of fitting in, we change our outlook towards something, and suppress our yearnings deep within, for a variety of reasons. But the pair of glistening eyes,  asking for recognition and approval, still exist inside…. Exist inside us all.

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Exhales.

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~Khushi.M

~DuoDisseminators

‘A Lullaby~

Sleep oh baby sleep now awhile,
Remove the fears, 'morrow is far.
Count the sheep, think least for awhile,
Rest for sun sets if it arrives.

The sun doesn’t gleam and it doesn't shine-
All  time and finds a bed to lie,
It sends the moon for awhile which,
Marvels innocently in sun 's light

Sleep oh baby sleep now awhile,
Be the innocent moon tonight
Think naught, for there is given time
To rise and shine in blazing white light.

A poem by Kunjal Gupta

~DuoDisseminators

‘Journey or Destination?

Sometimes all we need is reminders. Here is one more~

https://www.agefotostock.com/age/en/details-photo/back-view-of-a-trekker-woman-passing-on-a-suspension-bridge-in-the-himalayas/ESY-036509253

It isn’t about the destination,

But the journey instead

Cause the destination is still unknown

Even if we think we know it.

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 Where are we going? 

Step over the stones,

Travelers we are on 

Paths none goes 

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A big labyrinth

Different choices,

Flowery tracks,

Disguising prickles.

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With highs and lows,

Carrying friends and foes

Let’s relish this ignorance

Yet life dictated  by its own goals

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When  we reach  the end

And the  bridge stops dancing,

And the threatening waves are left behind.

Here it is all.

Our stories of glory.

Shaped in objects.

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Life is more about the journey, 

Tis ‘a chance to savor each moment.

Cause the destination is a dead end,

Let’s wish to start a journey instead…

~Written By: Khushi. M

~DuoDisseminators

‘Could you please wait one more second?

‘ Yes could you?’ asked the frightful man to the judge.

‘This spot is quite uncomfortable’

The prosecutor, Draco Phillius * retorted a tone  ‘ And why wouldn’t you be uncomfortable?’ With the black coat swinging and his golden golden wig almost falling Draco swiveled around to face the judge.

‘ So Sam Wenneth, on the night of 16th of October, you were found to be trespassing in the orchard of Williams Penagofler. Did you or did you not steal an apple?’

‘ I did not steal an apple! Yeah, I nicked one out. As a matter of fact, it was evening and Williams Penagofler is no longer alive! Many people visit it!’

Draco Phillius showed his golden teeth and started to pursue in a dramatic way, a long yellow page. ‘ Err as a matter of fact, under Draco ‘s law’. He stumbled and corrected himself ‘ Athens law.   It was dark enough to be called nighttime! And you are there to represent your charge!’

‘The punishment for robbery’ Draco stopped to enunciate ‘under the well known rule of law is DEATH! The judge stood up suddenly and mumbled an ‘ Order Order’ and went away yawning. The man is pushed and taken away by the guards. He is stupefied because the charge is minor and the punishment is harsh.

Does this ring a bell?In the city of Athens, Draco, a man with an unbelievable twisted mind wrote laws that protected the well established nobility and attacked the poor people with severe punishments like Death. Today we use the term ‘draconian’ to describe many laws that generally infringe upon the human rights of individuals,and they leave the doors open to arbitrary interpretation and prosecution. The vague wording of a law also has an adverse impact on framing of the charge against the accused.

We have many laws such as PTA( Prevention of Terrorism Act) in Sri Lanka, Sedition law, UAPA law, Public Safety Act in India, the recently passed Hong Kong National Security Law in China and their usage has been indeed worrying as statistics show.

The basic rights of people such as the right to have fair representation before a court, the right to be produced before a court, the right to free trial etc are being viciously attacked.

These exceptions are often made for terrorists or ‘disturbing’ elements in the society, but at the same time generously empower the government to designate anyone as disturbing or terrorist.

We all know that security laws are essential in ensuring public law and order. However, an essential feature of a developed society are protests, people, and democracy. Draconian features seeking to empower governments to a very large extent over ‘public order and good’ may turn obsolete and not in line with the society which we all seek to dream about.

QOTD: USA is such am amazing country! After reading this, what according to you really makes it wonderful? freedom or prison?

This is a continuation of our illustration series:

  1. It could be someone or you
  2. Experts advices..
  3. Adding
  4. Still here to Stay
  5. Old crisis in the Neighbourhood
  6. Woman a citizen and worker
  7. Hearing more from the UN right now?
  8. Climate change

‘ Memories~ a short story’

Hey there this is me kunjal😃. We both have been tad busy with 10th grade. A new chapter that is Offline class has been so far, both exciting ( not gonna lie!) as well as tiring.

This is my first attempt in writing a sci- fiction story😃. It is titled Memories.

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They can be tricky can’t they?

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Memories..

https://i.reddit.com/r/aesthetic/comments/al7kck/my_minds_a_mess/

The camera followed the girl with pigtails. She was dumping clothes in a jute bag. There were clothes of all colors and all types- ragged blue jeans, a small blue skirt overflowing with jasmines, a small lily adorned t-shirt peeked from the bag and they were getting under, by the inflow of more clothes. The camera stopped at the girl who was busy dumping clothes. Her curly brown hair were tied in pigtails and her cheeks had the red colour of spirit and excitement. Her fishy eyes opened and closed without staying anywhere, but the black tiny eyeballs- as they moved hither and thither- had tinge of elation and happiness in them. Her fingernails were painted in colours of pink and purple which often ran above to scratch her hair but not in thought and her other hand moved above to rub the head of sweat which was not there. She stopped and the camera which was just a dreamless blue eye flickered with a higher speed. A shrill voice ran through the air and made the eye stumble- ‘ Maya! Come here and have your breakfast!’.

https://www.shutterstock.com/image-illustration/isolated-abstract-fantasy-magic-green-eye-428268307

Maya rubbed her head fiercely and ran out of the room. The eye emerged out from behind the bedpost, not without the appearance of an image of a short girl applying some goo at the bedpost. It settled in front of the wardrobe. The camera had a special ability. It could look at anything and conjure up images related to that thing. The image could be any memory. Memory was information. With the exception of very few memories, most could be produced. For a memory, however lost in the mist, remained stored in some compartment of the mind. It was not difficult to navigate. The camera settled before a pink t shirt that was strewn across the floor. Maya had dropped it when her mother called her. Strong geoseptic rays-strong signals-were coming from it. The camera ‘s eyeball turned violet as it focused on the t-shirt absorbing the rays. It focused on the  mark of ink near the bottom of the t-shirt. An image flowed before the camera- and in a memory beckoned.

Maya was 5 and holding a pen. Her eyes were staring ahead and her brows were shot up. She was holding a pen- a pilot pen and sunlight came through the windows lightning up her eyes even further. Drops of ink were falling from the pen at a paper resting below it and she looked scared. The image vanished and another came- the eye turned and focused on a large brown mark which had discoloured. Maya was bending down pushing the bottom of her t-shirt towards her knee. The part of the t-shirt was red.

 The camera focused on all the odd shades, marks, blotches, as small as dots and even tears at some places. It turned vigorously.  Memories- images flew across the eye -maya eating a burger, in maya falling down the pavement, maya falling down with her bicycle- it was a pink Hero bicycle-, maya chewing the cloth of her t-shirt while eating, maya dancing with her eyes closed, maya snoring and saliva dripping out of her mouth- her hand gripping the bedpost, maya holding a knife and standing with a woman in what appeared to be a kitchen , maya holding a blue ball pen and drawing behind an advertisement, two little girls in kitchen touching the knife.

In some pictures she wasn’t there at all. When it was just water and bubbles. The images moved with a high speed and

The camera stayed still as pictures flashed before it even before they could be read. The t-shirt had strong geoseptic signals which meant strong memories which meant that people still remembered some of  them  very strongly while they were stored inside.

‘ Thank you mommy!’ a frantic voice ran in the air and Maya was returning back. The camera turned and  took a look at the knob of the door as it turned and another image flashed before it a brief image which flickered out very soon. A man bent in front of the door.

The camera blinked and hid behind the bedpost and waited. Maya closed the door as she entered and strode ahead to her wardrobe scratching her hair. The t-shirt came before her feet and she looked at it. The camera blinked at her from the bedpost. She picked up the t-shirt, and after moving it for some time, threw it into the jute bag.

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~Kunjal Gupta.

~DuoDisseminators