steak
food, History, Humour

Forbidden Steak

Enthroned regal on the chef’s handpicked

plate, adorned with the Grecian cutlery.

Crowned with a dash of lush-push

glistening glorious butter surrounded with 

the gleeful wild mushrooms, snobbish

handpicked Romas, and that indifferent

Sun-baked Potato King.

 

Juices of Youth overflowing through

edges, butchered  just this morning by

some sturdy Polish hands, around

The Madison Square Gardens…

 

If wars were fought for the Helen of Troy 

or Roman Empire was fallen who knows?

A sinful bite of those decadent juices from

luscious fats is worth all the battles taken

with the mighty Vegan empire.

 

Choirs of the Weight-Watchers might

conspire, The great David may 

not rescue this time…

 

Gods smile on beings who resist and

endure, I might never be under any

benevolence or in League-Extraordinaire

of Skinny and Thin

 

I’ll surrender to the horrors of every 

calorie-watcher or prying gaze of my

wise Aerobics master. I’ll sing my grace

and dig into the flesh of forbidden

Steak today..

 

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Great Land
History, Inspiration, Legend, Literature, Love, Nature, poetry

The Great Land

Standing in the land of the great Apaches

Midst blooming wild poppies

and the mammoth elephant grasses,

thinking of the dream that once Martin Luther had.

May be the days of  chivalric Camelot are over,

as I heaved reclining on the grand arm chair;

vicious winds from the North gushed 

echoing footsteps of a massive feet

opening a narrow pass for the

grim shadow of Lincoln to flicker by,

leaving behind trails of the Fallen Soldiers

on the path once trodden by the

fierce Indian Tribes.

missing
History, Literature, Nature, poetry, Uncategorized

Metamorphosis

I grew up beyond the grey walls….

Walls that changed hues under varied spells,

mama would strictly keep me inside.

 

The thick silver parapets adorned tiny holes,

black ashen specks from where I marveled

at the cruel oddity of the world.

 

A faded sepia of Papa hung at a crooked

angle-tilted towards outside,shadowing

other picture-frames.

 

The grim monsoons brought spree of life

stamping on foundations of boundless

hedge, spreading its tentacles…

 

Vile serpentine vines of bougainvillea invaded

sacred space, by keeping me in restraints

stealthily crawling into me.

 

I see scaly lizards licking the swollen damp

crusts of the walls, that now turned

purplish hue, squeaking hushly;

“papa zedes, papa zedes

papa zedes, papa zedes”

 

Terrified of clicking sounds,every monsoon

I meticulously filled up fissures with 

Papa’s old black and whites.

 

Once smacked across the sugar face smiling,

I always beamed when I sobbed inside,

tongue at loss of words….

I covered the last fissure with the only picture 

I had of Papa.

 

Forever barricading myself with-in walls, I

metamorphosed into silver, a mass of

cemented blood in concrete limbs.

Fortifying myself of the lingering echoes…

“papa zedes, papa zedes

papa zedes, papa zedes”

 

 

Tragedy of Oedipus
Books, History, Humanity, Kindness, Compassion, Legend, Literature, Love

The Greater Tragedy Than Oedipus

Tragic Oedipus  wandered blind
In the bazaars of colorful Athens
Crimson blood oozing out
From  hollowed eyes
Cursing gods
For his fate so harsh 
Carrying shame of
Copulation with mother
Strong guilt  sits heavy 
For slaying, his own father
Roaming from street to street
Asking same question,
“Why was I the chosen one”
Begotten out of the cursed
Womb of Jocasta 
Doomed by abhorrent 
act of Laius
In  self pity and gloating
had he forgotten of the
little boy sodomized 
Shame horror
subsequent death
Chrysippus Condemned 
For acts of evil that men commit 
For which naive boys
And girls pay heavy price 
In his misfortune did he
think of young  Chrisypuss
Dishonored, violated
Did he not ponder upon
wickedness that men carry
Atrocities for which many
Young ones are robbed
Of single drop of dignity.
Tanya Shukla

(In Greek mythology, Chrysippus  was a divine hero of Elis in the Peloponnesus, the bastard son of Pelops king of Pisa in the Peloponnesus and the nymph Axioche or Danais. He was kidnapped by the Theban Laius, his tutor, who was escorting him to the Nemean Games, where the boy planned to compete. Instead, Laius ran away with him to Thebes and raped him, a crime for which he, his city, and his family were later punished by the gods. But over the years while studying Greek Mythology, people often remember tragedy of Oedipus but left out Chryisppus which according to me is a bigger tragedy. Many young boys get raped or sodomized but their stories never come to surface, this is just my attempt to bring Chrysippus story through poetry. who was sodomized and raped in the Greek mythology of Oedipus)

Source:

Chrisypuss, Wikipedia

 

History, Humanity, Kindness, Compassion, Inspiration, Legend, Love, Nature

A Seeker

One little canary on a branch of

An ancient peepul  tree singing

A melody  of a distant land across

The sandy deserts, a song of an exile 

Of a traveler banished from his land, 

For his crime, he was a seeker and 

Carried in his heart the thrill of knowledge 

Persecuted for his adventures, he never 

Stepped a foot in his forefathers land,

Where he went no one ever knew, 

Time and again a migratory bird sings 

A song of a lone figure returning home. 

 

 

 

 

 

literature
Books, History, Literature

Five Must Reads For Literature Lovers

Pride & Prejudice

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This all-favorite by Jane Austin still reckons with book lovers in the twenty-first century, nearly 250 years after its publication. Sparks fly high between the fierce and outspoken Elizabeth Bennet and arrogant William Darcy in this romance. The story follows the life of Elizabeth Bennet a sassy and intelligent young woman, who is never afraid to speak her mind and her quest for love. Despite all the recent feminist onslaught, it continues to entertain and delight readers across the globe due to its universal appeal. 

Jane Eyre 

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This coming of age novel by Charlotte Bronte narrates the exceptional survival tale of protagonist Jane Eyre. Published under the pen name “Currer Bell”, on 16 October 1847, novel was the first of its kind. Although dismissed by critics as anti-christian at the time of its publication. The novel rose to meteoric rise since then and Jane is considered the first modern female heroine. The novel charts Jane’s progress from a docile orphan to a career woman and her subsequent marriage to Edward Rochester. 

Sons and the Lovers

sons-and-lovers

D.H Lawrence’s magnum opus The Sons and Lovers published in 1913 was the first novel on the premises of psychoanalysis. The novel exploring the complex relationship between the protagonist and his mother, a result of oedipus complex.  The novel narrates the story of Paul who is obsessively devoted to his mother and hates his father. The relationship often borders on romance and desire. The novel reflects Lawrence’s own devotion to his mother and was largely written at the time of his mother’s illness. 

Things Fall Apart

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No other novel comes closer to depicting the horrors of coloniasation as Nigerian author Chinua Acheb’s masterpiece, Things Fall Apart published in 1958. The first modern African novel has since become an important historical document tracing the influence of colonialism and important work in post-colonial studies. the novel follows the life of Okonkwo, an Igbo(“Ibo” in the novel) man and local wrestling champion in the fictional Nigerian clan of Umuofia.

One hundred years of Solitude 

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Published in 1967 by the celebrated Columbian author Gabriel Garcia Marquez, One Hundred Years Of Solitude remains a classic. No other writer has depicted the latin American society so vividly and realistcally as Marquez. The novel adopts the magic realism as a style to depict the complex and almost mythical reality of Latin American countries. The novel traces the story of Buendia in the fictional town of Mocando. Published at a time of literary latin -American boom. The novel has been since published into thirty-seven languages and is a must for anyone who wants to explore the Colombian culture and myth. 

 

 

History, Legend, Nature, poetry

Rip Van Winkle

A gentle slumber, 
On one treacherous 
December afternoon
Few drops of cheap
Sparkling Chardonnay 
Met one Rip Van Winkle
Trudging through meandering
Folds of Catskill mountains
Blabbering majesty of 
King George the great, 
Staring amusingly at the
Denim pants; cellular in 
Hands, wheeling of the 
Eagle afloat, howling of 
The winds, chirping of the 
Brook below, in semi 
Delirious state saw a
Flowing silverish beard
A foot long, smoking pipe 
Things have changed 
Wondered he, for sure 
Bygone are the days of 
Innocent laughters, idyllic 
Vacations, gone are the days
Where the only malady a 
Broken heart, only worry a 
Loaf of bread.

( Inspired from the short-story Rip Van Winkle by Washington Irving. The story was first published in 1819. Its story about a drunk drunk Dutch American who falls asleep in Catskill mountains and wakes up from slumber after twenty years after American Revolution. I was reading this story couple of months back and was inspired to pen down a poem)