The Cynic Communtity

Put In The Hours  ~Miss A. Here I see her on the screen, on the stage gracing her expressions, And here I am, in the audience, with a gentle smile for entertainment, Glistering through the images, I had once, for you lived both worlds, Scared and fighting to remember the next moves, all forgotten suddenly, The hooting is an assurance, a stance for more confidence to let you get it, All in seconds mind can't remember, but the body flows, a moment of sigh. I'm hooting for you too, even though next seat radiates no damn,  Don't worry just I'm just in time, I can see though, but not everyone can, Beneath the layer of foundation, there's a constant shiver, restlessness turning rhythm, The audience sits as the judge, posing their understanding, not the hours behind, After the first act, I see you fully, keeping behind the worries and concentrating, On the moments now and only, feels like life, feels like you've been slumber.  For the second act, the differences betwee...

 Hello Who? India : No way home I remember the lyrics we sang on top of our lungs, our national anthem, the song that told us stories of amazing diversity and inclusion of individuality, tradition, culture and the pledge that all Indians are brothers and sisters. The politics of our country has stared to make me doubt it.  Where do I go, where is my home? If I remember correctly a home is a place where one feels safe, but I'm in constant fear of religion and language chaos, comes haunting to me in reality. I might be wrong at places, and I'll be happy to correct me. When I was five, I realised, our culture didn't respect women's throught, it respected out bellittlement. A good women should be someone, who's lips are taped, is a good sandbag, and in public ethereal in the sarees and traditional dresses, that perfectly hides her bruises.  I am from Bihar, and though culturally rich, it faces the same issue of women as leaders as a naysay. Struggled there, understood w...