She Woke into the Fake World

She woke up, as the sun went past the zenith.

And She reached out for her expensive, new iPhone.

The fake world was fast awake at the break of the dawn.

Which she realized, as posts on Instagram were all on.

Good mornings, and breakfasts and wishes in pictures, perfect.

No moments missed a click on the expensive iPhone with effect.

The perfect filters added splendor to the snap,

While the minds behind the lens remained gloomy and handicapped.

She scrolled down and down until she found a start,

”But this is not the time for me” cried her heart.

She then clicked herself on a perfect filter for her face,

Added she to the fake faces woke in this iconic phase.

This continued to be the story of all faces we see.

If the whole world a mock-up, then what else could it be?

Inspiration: The Unsurpassed Emotion

Having been done with 28 days after the birth of The Idealist, I have pushed in myself into the world of writing and creativity. Now, all I have to know is, Why Do I write? The answer from me though wasn’t spontaneous, was the best that I could ever find.

I write to voice the Unspoken words of mine.

I write to recreate the gleeful moments of my life, to read it over and over again, make them immortal. Indeed words do give them life and a scent of hope. I write to verbalize the emotions that are drawn a parallel with my experiences.

Either write something worth reading or do something worth writing. Benjamin Franklin

This threw into me, bits of optimism, after all, the turmoil and disruptions have seized me. It took me longer to decide what not to write rather than what to write. By and by I realized, people wouldn’t be happy to hear the same story from the other side. You and I would want to hear stories of victory, love, inspiration and the like. My conscience kindled me and I witnessed the evolution of vibrancy from the darkness.

Let the thrill of your passion overtake the pain of your heartbreak. Ravinder Singh

I have gone through days when the dawn and the dusk kept me away and the whole world traveled leaving me behind. I hid beneath my blanket and I did not want to see any light. It took me days to jump out of the uncomforting comforts of my bed and finally put my thoughts into action. I decided to write whatever I felt like writing after I realized that no piece of creativity is perfect.

The Downpour that Conquered Souls

Those days lacked luster, at its unfolding,

When the drizzle transfigured to a downpour.

Went on through day and night and day and night,

Until water gushed into the streets and homes.

The farmlands and homes abandoned.

All richness and grandeur eluded.

The divine resource on earth, no more divine.

But turned to be a rogue, as destined.

The state fell apart, insecure and petrified,

Flocking rescue homes around.

But we ain’t broken, we ain’t worn out.

We rose above the unsurpassed,

Into inimitable sentient beings of all times.

And the rest of the eventuality, in the news of the globe.

”The unseen calamity of the century.” they said.

”Rising water levels, Dams opened”

No resources, unmet needs, and chaos all around.

But united we stood across caste, creed, and race,

In Our God’s Own Country.

About This So Called Idealist!!

I have been a bit obsessed with this phrase “Perfect Imperfections” that has popped up in front of me a couple of times ( Yeah, I do bother to take a look of all that). Somehow this phrase has managed to push in some extra blood into my carotids and has done its job and made its way to The Idealist !!

This is my first blog post, that have taken birth after a few vague calculations in my mind.

To begin with, I am a medical student, trying to find a home away from home, and currently is in the state of transformation of the normal girl in me into a healer.

If my endeavour to wake up someone’s inventiveness, give it a cup of innovation and make its way to formulation,triumph over, the indolence and anguish that have put me into turbulence in the past few days would come into tranquility.🌸

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