Colorful Fears

TEN LESSONS SCHOOL THE INDIAN EDUCATION SYSTEM TAUGHT ME

If a girl gets harassed in school, it’s probably because she didn’t braid her hair in two plaits or wore “provocative” clothing.

Marks are way more important than knowledge and street smartness.

The victim is a bully, and the bully is a victim.

Equality is a myth.

Adults can hold stupid grudges on young children who have done nothing to them.

Everyone wants perfect students but nobody is the perfect teacher.

Science students deserve more respect.

If one ant bites you, crush them all.

Blame the students for everything.

Education is a business. Its main aim is to accumulate wealth rather than give appropriate knowledge.

What Do I Do?

While I dwelled in one of my prayers, I still asked for more. The universe listened closely, Numerous missed calls on my phone. They say, a human ends with diminishing aspirations, But was it coming from my core? What's the point of achieving anything, When my body doesn't belong to my soul, When I don't even belong to myself anymore.

~ark

Thank you @wordsbyicarus for the tag.

I have many works that are to be completed and some that I haven't posted yet. I started writing not too long ago but I have a bunch of them that are very special to me.

Here are some of them:

1. The Ocean

2. The End

3. Free

4. The Contract

5. I Will Die Happy

6. The Silence

7. The Ugly Desire

8. Blinded Eyes

9. The War

10. Forgotten Death

Would love to answer some questions about them!

No pressure for tags @ivaspinoza @safiresyrup

WIP TAG GAME

Thanks @agirlandherquill for the tag!

Here are the rules! - post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

° Atlantis

° Festival of the Dead

° 1954

° Dancing enemy

° Flowergarden of the Battlefield

No Pressure tag for @blob-blobsworld, @philanthropicalsundog @pen-pain-poetry @crmsnmth

My idea for the writers that only write poems and therefore can’t necessarily have WIPs: Put in three poem titles that you think are most interesting or your three favourite poems that you wrote

December 2024?

Wasn't it 2019 yesterday?

Falling

I was falling, Deep into the air. It felt like I was flying, Descending in the layers. The ground would catch me, Why would I fear? Numerous hands tried to save me, I was just flying, why do they care? My excuses came to an end, I wish I would've dared. But, even if I held someone's hand, How do I assure myself, That those hands won't leave me, In the middle of somewhere.

~ark

The Footsteps

The footsteps across the path she crossed, were the inspiration of the nightmares in which she was lost. Those footsteps made the path uneven; they were embedded in it after all.

Every time, she wanted to take a different road, full of adventures abode, she tripped on the footprints, that trapped her there, the moment she felt aware. The other one would be bad or even worse, she thought while she was handcuffed by the curse of her memories.

The footsteps she was scarred by, Belonged to the person who once made her fly, But she never knew, she took her first flight in a trapped sky.

She revisited the days she was a sunflower, who followed her star, her sun with all her power. She was now a prisoner, unknown of the jailer, after all the road became her world now.

The girl who was trapped by a jailer in a jail, Now thought her home was that person who protected from the unknown, Little did she knew; she was being hidden behind a cruel veil.

She asked herself one day, how did the footsteps leave such a deep impact on her fate?

She then remembered, the person crossed the path when it was young, when the cement was wet. The footsteps were embedded when the cement was naïve, it was isolated when they met.

The footsteps sculpted her entire life now, which made her imprison herself in the prison constructed by her hands, she was just a puppet now, strangled by the death strands.

~ark

I Must Be

I have to be relatable to be seen,

I must feel the same to be heard.

I have to be patient and listen to their empty words,

I must be caring to make them feel like home.

I must remain unknown to make them known.

I have to make them feel happy,

I must compliment their flaws.

Standing in the courtroom,

I must face a trial for breaking the laws.

I should have a bad memory,

Forgetting everything

And move on,

I must apologise for not becoming their lifeless doll.

~ark

To be Admired

A source of light  Untouched, sacred and pure  I burn myself every moment To mark the beginning and the end of every day Everyone saw the world around, I made sure.

But a thought lingered somewhere, A desire. To be loved like the moon, to be admired Maybe I am unworthy of it I lack it's allure Never the sight to behold People look away, scorching under my gaze I hate myself then All I wanted was someone who would look my way.

To shine like the sun, first burn like it I am an inspiration but not a sight of admiration That I longed for Like the umbrella after the rain Bandage after the wound heals They are never acknowledged, Because, They aren't wants but needs 

I am untouched, sacred and pure Not a mere source of light I smile at the realisation  I am the source of life after all.

The Memories

Here I faced them again, The people I knew. The memories I once considered a part of mine, Slowly accumulated the truth. The glimpses inter wined, Left me nostalgic, dilemma grew. I gradually travelled the journey, From smiling to fathoming the traps their eyes drew. Standing in the freedom’s queue, I yearned to see the old view. I chased the future, Dwelled in the past, I lost the present, time flew.

~ark

I expected the whole world, But now, I have accepted my own world.

~ark