I write today…

I write today, of tormented hearts,DSC_1825
The broken dreams and murky pasts.
Smiles that were washed away,
Trodden on, as if child’s play.

I write today, of fiery skies,
Dying heroes and monstrous lies.
The lesson of love has been long forgotten,
For the human race is now woe-begotten.

I write today, of the broken stance,
The lost sun, the forgotten dance.
Lost is our humanity, our faith in it, and thus our sanity.
For how else can we set aside,
The death of an innocent child.

I write today, of the broken home,
The crooked mirror, the stolen hope.
She gave them signs, or so they say,
Did it give them the right, to tear her essence away?

“I write today, for a fresh start.
A blue sky, over happy hearts.”

 

Success and the successful

How do paupers rise to fame, attain such glory and make a name?

How do failures rise again, muster the courage and face the pain?

There is nothing to it, no trick you see, they are humans like you and me

All that differs is a will profound to knock on heaven and hear the sound.

Yet success often escapes from our clasp, what is it that we fail to grasp?

Is there more to success than we can see, is there a way we too can be?

 

How do paupers rise to fame, attain such glory and make a name?

How do they so often change the game, command a fortune yet seem so tame?

There must be more, I’m sure of it, something more than just pure grit

All we need is another endeavour to know what it takes to be the greatest ever

In that, we must revisit our concepts; of success, of glory and commendable conquests

For having the right direction to start, is a battle won, for the most part.

 

How do paupers rise to fame, attain such glory and make a name?

How do they go where none have gone, plan so well and become a king from a pawn?

The answer lies in the question they ask, what is success in this task?

The reply becomes their guiding light, and the will to not give up without a fight

Many people start you see, but without a goal, they’re simply lost at sea.

Success differs from being to being, this simple truth is rather freeing

And that my friends, is how they do it, they know their goal and then pursue it.

 

I am who I am (Poem)

 

My life is a celebration of future dA lonely lightays,
bathed in the light of a darker phase.
For success casts a shadow long and dark,
leaving me blind to what blocks my path.
And so I choose to remember the past,
be humbled by it and rein my heart.
It is because I follow a road not sought,
that I am who I am, a different knot.

Hold your tears, I have often been told,
for failure is naught but another toehold.
Yet I cry every instance I fail,
For my tears clean away the murky trail.
Leaving a road that is clean and free,
to discover the toehold promised to me.
It is because I challenge what I’ve been taught,
that I am who I am, a different knot.

Struggle to survive, and always fight to win,
it’s said, to run without fighting is the greatest sin.
Yet I often run from insurmountable odds,
I’d rather run and be spared the rods.
So that the blood in my veins can be put to use,
instead of being a puddle under another’s shoes.
It is because I refuse what others have bought,
that I am who I am, a different knot.

(This poem is a celebration of individuality. A concept that is often frowned upon in our society. This poem celebrates the desire to be different, the desire to not conform. To be free)

-Aseem Shandilya

Beware oh traveller (Poem)

Is life to be spent in the pages of a book?
Is it better spent learning from the road you took?
Though there is nothing wrong with whatever you pick, beware oh traveller that you give it a think.
A book can teach you your t’s and p’s
Through the road you learn thank you and please
Yet neither of the two give you a guarantee,
Of gaining success with a finality.
Instead it is often a function of your will
Do you have what it takes to climb the hill?
You may never know unless you take the risk, beware oh traveller that you give it a think.
They say relationships are to be felt,
That love is to be experienced for the heart to melt,
Yet words can be enough to feel a lion’s pelt.
It describes the pain of violence but without the belt.
Whether you shield your heart or let it sink, beware oh traveller, that you give it a think.

Fall of the muse

All stories are supposed to have another behind them. All stories are supposed to have a muse. The muse drives the story, fuels it and sustains it. Now, these muses are of several types. There are those who have had a negative effect on the writer’s life. Then there are those who serve as nothing more than literary eye candy. These muses are often the epitome of physical beauty; a 10 on 10 if you please. Finally there is the quintessential plain Jane or average Joe. He/she is unassuming, down to earth, and often plagued with a myriad of problems. Yet he/she overcomes all hardships with love; love, which has been every writer’s favourite word ever since the first pen touched paper.

It is this relationship between creativity, muse and emotions that I wish to highlight. I may not be old (thank god!), I may not have written several books but I sure as hell have read my fair share. It pains my heart to see the rampant ill-treatment of the muse and the murder of romance (yes, the sappy kind).

On this note, let me begin my diatribe starting with muses. They are no longer treated with the respect they deserve. They are used and often with a cruelty that makes the literary aficionado in me want to curl up and die. As I have come to understand from the classics of Jane Austen, Charles Dickens and such is that the muse needs to grow. He/she is supposed to evolve within the pages. They are supposed to be overtly human and subtly superhuman. Not the other way around. It is imperative so as to hold the all important “attention” of the reader. Think of it from a reader’s point of view. It is like watching a child grow up. You involuntarily reach out when they stumble; you want to soothe them when you cry. You may have no personal attachment to the said child but you still watch over them attentively. Why is it so? Because humans inherently respect growth, be it in a book or in real life.

This is where most modern books fail. They are meant to be the instant coffees of the literary world; providing momentary gratification but no lasting taste. Stories today are maelstroms unlike the caressing breeze of the classics. They whip you about like a dog’s chew toy leaving you battered, bruised and dazed. Books today are just a quick read; nothing more, nothing less.

Romance today has been replaced with lust as the driving force. Don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against the portrayal of lust. It is natural and needed at times but even an overdose is wrong. Books are increasingly, alarmingly becoming baser, more primal. This regressive trend has got to stop or it will be the end of all creative writing. After all, you can only portray lust in so many ways. It is one thing to feel lust and quite another to read about it in disturbingly elaborate detail. They already have a name for that: Pornography. The authors think they are so smart if they hide it in the subtext. Well, here’s a newsflash ;it puts us off a book.

All in all, the authors need to take some time to introspect. The genre of fiction can still be saved. We just need to go back to the basics.

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Disclaimer-

All the opinions mentioned within this article are solely mine and do not represent any group or organization. None of what I have written is meant to hurt a person in any manner. If anyone is hurt by any of my statements, I apologize in advance.

Please let me know your comments and reviews. You can reach me via the comments section or you can drop a mail to me at riseofwords@gmail.com.

Image credits: http://www.Wikipedia.org

Welcome Aboard

This is what I look like in real life.

Welcome reader,

This blog is a window into my heart (figuratively speaking). It is a sum total of all that I want to express and all that I want to do. Its purpose is two-pronged; On one hand it will present my creations to the world in a simple, yet effective manner. On the other, it will be a medium in my attempts to help people who face difficulties in public speaking.

Now before you start expecting me to become all preachy and start handing out advice, I would like to present the basic tenets of this blog. I won’t claim to know all there is to know, neither will I ever force my ideas upon someone. Anytime that you as a reader feel that I am getting ahead of myself or have started becoming preachy, please point it out. Anytime you feel that I have become too full of myself, please feel free to knock me off my high horse. Having said that, I must urge you to refrain from using prejudiced or hurtful words in your comments. Such words are detrimental to creativity and learning.

Even though I say that I will be helping people who face difficulties with the language and with public speaking, I have another ulterior motive behind this blog. Over time, I felt that I have not allowed my skills to grow. This blog will help me escape that stagnation and rediscover the passion all over again. In order to do these things, we need mutual cooperation because only by mutual cooperation we can undergo mutual learning.  I will present my ideas and you comment on them. That way, I learn from your comments and perhaps you can take away something from my posts too.

Let me highlight some of the key features of this blog. I will try to post an article or a composition every two days. Sometimes I may fail to meet the deadline, you’ll have to bear with me. In addition to my other “normal” posts, I will also keep posting some interesting facts about English and the art of public speaking as well.

A regular feature will be a trio of words published everyday. In return, I ask you to post another 3 words in your comments. That way, everyday we can cover at least six words.

Here’s hoping to a long and fruitful association.

Aseem Shandilya

(Triton)