Stepping into the world of blogging...

This is the first time I have created a blog.Hoping to have a wonderful experience in this whole new world of blogging.

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The rose that bloomed

 The rose that bloomed A speck of pink in a bed of green- The solitary bud blooming , Among bushes and twigs, thorns and weeds; That one blossom clinging on to its petals, Standing tall against the pouring rain and the lashing wind. Occasionally would sit a lonely thrush on its branch Singing a melody to the darkness of the night, Or a queen bee will adorn its crown For some nectar sweet and divine. But, it is till it lasts- Till the petals stand the test of time, Maybe a weary poet composes a rhyme, Or a lone musician strikes a chime, Or a forlorn lover reminiscence his time. And then one day, the petals lay On the ground astray. The thrush no longer sings, the music no longer rings- And its essence trampled and trodden Like a tune forgotten. But somewhere it thrives , In the words of a diary jaded Or the folds of a photograph faded. -Devyashree 09.06.2025
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Unfolding 2026... one day at a time

  As a new year resolution, I have decided to write daily about one book/ movie/ documentary or real-life incident that touched me and my life in a meaningful way, which could be a 2-hour Netflix watch or could be an extremely mundane incident that I encountered on my way home in the subway. I am not an expert on movie making or a prolific socialist writer commenting on the issues that overarches the dynamics in the society. My aim of putting pen on paper to my thoughts is to keep alive the habit of storytelling from the ordinary through imperfect and disjointed sentences and fragmented thoughts, at a time when human ingenuity is replaced by AI. Maybe my words may strike a chord of resemblance and familiarity and provide someone with the motivation to read that book, watch that movie or even write that article or simply even belief in the values that make the world go round and hold humanity together in dire times.
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Of illusion and fireflies

Sparkling lights and glistening nights, Like streets lit with fireflies, Starry skies and towering highs, Bedecked, bedazzled for the eyes. But a speck of gray in the crevice, The sight sees but fail to admonish. Shrouded behind the glitz and glamour, A city cold and weary with the winter. Like the faces that hide beneath Layers of social mask, the souls that breathe, Behind the cheery eyes and the twisted smiles, Playing peekaboo with life Lies shades of concealed despair Camouflaged by the faces fair. A pang of melancholy, a flair of gloom Like the ice-cold wind bringing doom. You see the trees covered with lights, But they have shed their leaves golden and bright.   -Devyashree 18.12.2024
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