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YourQuote Baba
10 JAN AT 19:52

Dear Fabulous Writers,

1. Object of the day: PHOTOFRAME
Use the object in your poem/quote/story and capture the essence of life.

2. Write a quote/poem/story on:
'What Home Means To Me'

3. Fill in the blank:
Equality tastes/smells/looks like...


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Akshit Mehdiratta
11 JAN AT 2:12

I realised,
when I shaved my beard today, after six months.
Tears rolled down my cheeks,
split up when they touched my scars.
Took me down the memory lane,
when she told me to leave,
slammed the door at me.
Crashed, while I had my mind off the road,
I fell & hurt myself, though not for her this time.
Was in confusion, to treasure or to rue,
those tears.
Didn't even have a photo of us, together,
to recollect, our memories,
still nostalgia, zoned me out.
Was I blind? Or she just couldn't see?
While her only complain was about people not being constant,
couldn't she count, the time, I stayed?
Far away yet so close,
always did remain just "anyone" for her.
Perhaps it's fate, or her,
the scars are permanent, but she's gone.
As I shed some more tears,
I enquired, myself, that,
with all the unsteadiness,
and scars she's given me.
Who'd accept me?
Or would I ever accept,
someone else?


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Irteza Ali
10 JAN AT 20:23

There was a time when your smile stirred my silence...
Today I am trapped inside the verses of poetry penned on your absence.


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Sobhan Pramanik
10 JAN AT 21:20

our hearts too
are photoframes.
without a change-door
at its back, and the
vanity of being removed
from the bedside table
when our eyes grow tired.
we carry it buried in our chest.
while few rear hopes,
most are conflagrated
pits of memories,
stroking souls to weep;
quietly, and without tears.



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