An Excuse for not Writing. 


If you are a writer of any sort and looking for excuses to placate yourself over not writing enough or not updating your blogs frequently enough, here are some which I use upon myself regularly. 

-> Some days it is simply writer’s block which could stretch on for an indefinite period of time. 

-> Some days the ‘writer’ is the ‘block’. 

-> Some days the will to write is interrupted constantly by the realisation of a lack of experience about the subject. 

-> Some days the environment isn’t just so good and conducive to produce good words on paper which convey meaning. 

-> Some days we writers just don’t wanna write.  That’s when we are busy experiencing so we can write about it later. 

-> Some days our creativity is just not activated enough to give the desired output, so we decide to lay off the typewriter. 

-> Some days , like all great literary geniuses, we undergo self- criticism and understand that our work isn’t good enough thereby tearing off or burning away whatever we write. 
Ok, enough excuses for not writing.  

If you liked my excuses and feel with them, do let me know. 

SHIVA IN YOU



Atop the Kailasha
amidst snow and cold
sat a hermit
with his eyes closed
indifferent to differences
unaware of appearances
abiding by no laws
never taking a pause
from his deep meditation
lost in deep contemplation
clad in tiger skin
all animals his kin
a snake garland
ash on forehead
destroyer and life-giver
the hermit was Shiva
rejected and an outcast
never dwells on his past
neither a teacher, nor a preacher
never thinking of the future
he is guileless and tough
lost and unbound
if you look hard enough
within you, he may be found
to be like Shiva
all you need to do
is open that third eye
and take a view
if you can
wield his trident
strike down every impediment
which stands between you
and the Shiva in you.
– Mayank ‘Sahar’ Mishra

Image courtesy: Google 

Being Undone.

Let us be undone,
In this moment
Forget what we have learnt
Grow back to the point
When we were nascent.
Skip backwards to the days
which are only reminiscent
In our hearts
Of the beautiful time
When none knew deceit,
none lied and vanity was off beat.
Let us unmake our hearts
And carve a beautiful sculpture.
from the stones they have become.
And remember when to forget
the lessons that made us
Less human and more machinist.

Let us be undone
In this moment
and become what we were
What we always longed for.
The child inside us calls loudly
let us close our ears and eyes
And hear and see naught
except what lies inside.
Swim back to the shores
from where we began
Invading our Mother Earth.
Go back to the beginning of it all
And start again.
and become humans after all.

Whispers of Immortality

I have been lost since long,
trying to find my voice.
Caught between right and wrong.
Wondering if I had a choice !

Weaving dreams in darkness;
Alone, I was too silent.
None to fight in my loneliness,
it made me sharply violent.

My voice lost,
returned briefly in my words.
At a great cost,
I learned to fly like the birds.

Accustomed to suffering,
my adventures led me too far.
I didn’t know what I was becoming,
slowly, deep within I waged a war.

Been trying to find my voice,
drowned beneath the voices.
Been trying to make that choice,
found between the two choices.

I have bartered my emotions,
for experiences of suffering.
As a dried branch finally snaps
in a torrent of wuthering.

Chasing dreams in darkness,
I knew I had to stumble.
It was when I fell I found,
all my lost voices in a jumble.

Stumbling, falling, failing then rising,
perhaps I will return to normality.
It is the reason why I chose,
to converse in “whispers of immortality.”

– Mayank “Sahar” Mishra

It Takes Courage by Author Unknown

It takes strength to be firm,
It takes courage to be gentle.

It takes strength to conquer,
It takes courage to surrender.

It takes strength to be certain,
It takes courage to have doubt.

It takes strength to fit in,
It takes courage to stand out.

It takes strength to feel a friend’s pain,
It takes courage to feel your own pain.

It takes strength to endure abuse,
It takes courage to stop it.

It takes strength to stand alone,
It takes courage to lean on another.

It takes strength to love,
It takes courage to be loved.

It takes strength to survive,
It takes courage to live.

Drift On !

About Writing and Words and life.

Whispers of Immortality

For some, it’s a song.
For some, poetry.
For others, just words.
Or nothing, meaningless.
And meaningful.
My words know not,
formats and rules.
They flow like dust,
from denuded runes.
Slowly drifting,
directionless.
Lost in an ocean of,
thoughtfulness.
Struggling among
multiple identities.
Surviving their source,
my words just flow.

No tags, no tag lines.
No rhythm and no rhyme.
My words are,
an essence of experiences,
the verdict of my crimes.
Feel bad, feel good.
Feel pleasure or anguish.
Feel the depth or the high skies.
Feel the truth hidden beneath lies.
It is a Journey of words,
a labyrinth of consciousness.
I implore you, do not share this road,
for you must make your own.
Watch from afar,
and when you are done,
drift on and wander.
Just like my words.

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Drift On !

For some, it’s a song.
For some, poetry.
For others, just words.
Or nothing, meaningless.
And meaningful.
My words know not,
formats and rules.
They flow like dust,
from denuded runes.
Slowly drifting,
directionless.
Lost in an ocean of,
thoughtfulness.
Struggling among
multiple identities.
Surviving their source,
my words just flow.

No tags, no tag lines.
No rhythm and no rhyme.
My words are,
an essence of experiences,
the verdict of my crimes.
Feel bad, feel good.
Feel pleasure or anguish.
Feel the depth or the high skies.
Feel the truth hidden beneath lies.
It is a Journey of words,
a labyrinth of consciousness.
I implore you, do not share this road,
for you must make your own.
Watch from afar,
and when you are done,
drift on and wander.
Just like my words.

Wait 

Waiting
Seems forever,
When you are waiting.
Every moment frozen,
Not moving.
Every moment feels like,
an uneventful millennia,
when you are waiting.
Patience wears out slowly
thinning every moment,
into an impassable passage
of space and time.

Waiting.
Seems so futile,
when it is finally over.
Shifting of perception.
The long endless wait
which stretched into millennias,
seems like a blink of an eye.
When you aren’t waiting anymore.

Waiting,
It’s pseudo and an illusion.
Just to confuse you,
hidden behind the veil of
an expected event or a person.

Waiting,
makes us wait,
for the inevitable.
So strange that,
while waiting,
we never realise that,
It is just a myth,
a false sense of time.
and that the inevitable
always arrives.

– Mayank “Sahar” Mishra

in the photograph Himanshu Singh, my friend. Photo credits: Sahar
All content is © Mayank “Sahar” Mishra.