Thewritingark - Ark

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.

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

My own work disgusts me, at times. I find it flat, I find the words that had depth now are as shallow as a children's pool. I look to the right, and then to the left: so many other of us here and there, their poems with hard-to-read fonts, and crazy weird background colors. Big ones, 10k+ ones, think they are fools. But I see the magic, I see the struggle, the courage, the craziness, the sadness, the reflection in the mirror—blurred. The writing is good, but my eyes are dull—addicted to the aesthetic, to the trend, to the dopamine cycle, to the movement—how do I break this cycle? I'm being swallowed by it! I want to me the same, and to fight the norm. I want to inform, to conform, to deform, and then to destroy everything. I want to be real, to open a way, to see and be seen, and to become, and delight in the fact that I am another human being.

I Tried

I tried to be brave, I tried to create. I tried to say, I wanted to convey. But I came out of my way, I had to delay, I had to behave. And then, In the end, I found myself writing all of it while hiding in my cave.

~ark

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

People are finding the love of their life online, and I can't even find the right answer to my assignment questions.

The Right Abode

At the station of doubts, I looked for the wheels of the answer's train. Colliding with people alike, Our luggage carried the same weight. Watching many moving ahead, Towards their right abode, I tried to cater more time, hiding my defeated face.

I peeked inside each of the trains, Trying ensure that I wouldn’t drown, rather, someday sail. Lost in the lost crowd, I searched for an abode that my destiny had framed.

Finally, finding one down a new track, I tried to board it with all my luggage. The bags tossed away by the crowd, I found them etched with my fears’ name.

It was then I realised, I had ruined my life, Thinking they belonged to my unhealed pain.

~ark

December 2024?

Wasn't it 2019 yesterday?

Free

I walked on the wet path, While the earth pulled me close. Splashing my face in the water, Its stillness reflected my unfulfilled vows. I ran far away, To be free and fly. I broke all the barriers, I thought held me back. But I realised, I was a kite, Taking a directionless flight, I broke the string of my life, Thinking I would finally be alive

I Will Die Happy

In the forest of green, I ought to see the brown. Everyone restless to see the moon, I wanted a hindrance promised by the clouds. A fury hidden beneath me, I was the bearer of the burning crown. Turning the leaves in the ashes of nature, I found solace in the cracks of drought. My eyes were a curse, mind as well, Was I trapped in a spellbound? With the desire of another wound, I peeked inside my hatred profound. Relics of my happiness unalive, Made me suffer the pain they gave me throughout. Unaware of the path I'll choose, 'I will die happy' I vowed.

~ark