Akshara's Diaries

We'll continue to kill   Yes, we'll continue to break   families apart As long as our lies remain covered and hidden  Who cares about the human cost? Bomb their homes, stifle their voices They are a dime a dozen anyways  They'll scuttle away like the cockroaches they are Stamp them out- yes out of the way. We can't compromise, we cannot negociate Let their blood colour the roads red instead  While we cling on to our crowns- all that shiny treasure  The cries of children- ah music to the ears. Divide and rule, our constant mantra Humanity's dead and empathy overrated  Well someone's got to mine that gold So we blow them up, we'll kill them all.

We continue to sing the songs of our people  To rebuild the bridges once burned  We hold hands and close our eyes As we remember the lessons learned. We continue to tell the stories of our people  So that we forgive, but never forget Our past that we consciously accept  The abhorrent ways that today we reject. We continue to dance on the rhythms of our people  To fill the cracks and lonely gaps We bow down and praise the earth Littered with glorious empires now collapsed. We continue to paint the lives of our people  The good and the bad, from dusk to dawn For that is what will forever remain  After you and me are long gone.

I’ll start doing my work at 3 o’clock  But for now, let me just rest and drop  On the glorious couch - the favourite place of the house  Where I sigh, I groan and most importantly, slouch. Just thinking about work makes my eyelids heavy  But to do that dreary task I must be ready. So I get up, stretch and lumber around  As I search for my motivation (sadly never to be found). I walk towards the fridge and see what I can salvage  To fill my big belly that even God can’t manage. Then I realise (to my delight), that it’s already 10 past 3 So with a heavy sigh, I tell myself that- I’ll start doing my work at three thirty But for now, let me just rest and be On the glorious couch - the favourite place of the house Where I sigh, I groan and most importantly, slouch.

From the golden cage watches the bird The trees swaying, a forbidden world. The infinite sky meets his eyes Silently, freedom cries. A mother ignores her crying child Food for her, alas, she cannot buy Cradling her daughter, on the floor she lies Silently, her spirit cries. A little boy watches the blood and gore, The grim and unspeakable consequences of war. The cruel little world he starts to despise  Silently, his innocence dies.

  The chairs were placed in a horseshoe formation in the society compound.       The residents of ‘Sabarmati Heights Society’ were going to have a society meeting today,in which no resident wanted to take part in.          Miss Ruby(or Mademoiselle Ruby, as she preferred to be called)was sitting on a separate chair,facing all the empty chairs in front of her.She was very fat and despised by almost everyone in the building,her infamous behaviour being very famous.Her foolish nephew,who was around the age of twenty,still behaved like a child.He now sat beside her,crying while blowing his nose repeatedly on an already dirty handkerchief.         The residents of the building came down,one-by-one,and they took a seat reluctantly.Miss Ruby’s evil face twisted into a fake smile every time a member took seat. ‘So my dear residents,’Miss Ruby said in a fake,sweet voice which nobody liked. ‘Up to no good,for sure,’Mr. Rajan muttere...

  With age,comes the stories of the past mysteries and old scandals. Age itself is a very mysterious thing. Mr.Richard Raymonds was a very old man,living in a village.He had toiled hard for nearly the whole of his life and now,at the age of eighty-five,he was enjoying his much deserved retirement.He lived up in the cold hills in a cottage with his cook.           But even though he was a bachelor,he wasn’t very lonely.Every evening,children climbed up the hill to hear stories of the past scandals and mysteries which were probably forgotten by almost everybody. ‘Oho!Here comes my gossip party!’Mr.Richard said jovially as he saw the children walking towards him. ‘But uncle,we are bored listening to your folk tales.Tell us about the old scandals like you used to do before,‘complained Raju as he sat on the veranda. ‘As you say,’Mr. Richard said,patting his tummy.He noticed that Tamanna was looking disturbed. ‘What’s the matter?’asked Mr. Richard,in concern. ‘Oh...