The Pen and the Musical Note

Let's face it, the earth isn't in a great position right now. Oil spills, pollution, global warming, extinction of biodiversity. I don't think I have time to list all the horrible things happening around here. And I find myself in the position of being distressed about it. I see everyone too preoccupied in the untangling the webs of their own lives to pay attention to the way the world is slowly burning right under their noses. You know what; this is not the world we had in mind. It’s becoming absolutely impossible to halt the human ego in its tracks. It’s becoming absolutely impossible to find some on who thinks our world is perishing. It’s a broken world. With jagged shards of the glass we scattered hurting our own survival. And the innocent, unknowing causalities doing their best to stay afloat in the sea of our mistakes. They are not collateral damage in the war of the human destruction. Every day, a little piece of us becomes richer, at the price of the death of a t...

Hullo! Everyone hold onto your reindeer, here I come with the Christmassy titles. No but really, this is is a byproduct of too much coffee and algebra at 4 am (not even kidding). It came out of me not wanting to open my mouth to practice my speech for the annual day and then somehow manifested into this little transcription. I hope you enjoy it. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Silent Night Some nights call for silence. These are the nights when a hush is cast over the cosmos and the cacophony of human nature is stifled by the velvet of black sky. The times when the stars ask, nay, demand your calm. It’s like an invisible force compels you, with just a slight brush, to quieten and enjoy the peace. The stillness is so absolute that the slightest whisper, the slightest stir, is enough to send ripples through it. Times like these are hard to come by and even harder to spot. The only indicat...

Hey guys! So this is my edited version of what I wrote last time, which had some issues, but I ended up sorting out. I've always really loved the rain, and this is actually what came out of the first rains. I hope you guys like it. So here it is, The Monsoon Magic, re imagined. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Monsoon Magic She strolled down the street, a lonely figure in the pouring rain. The world was painted in muted shades of grays and blues, but it would soon be in technicolor. Every drop of rain shimmered prismatic as it fell, seeming to her eyes like broken glass falling from the heavens. Mother Nature was washing her world clean of the dust and the heat, and everything would be brightened after the storm. A myriad of emotions swirled around in her head, all with undertones of nostalgia. It was like walking down memory lane and setting up camp there. The rain had unco...

I know what you're thinking. 'Anika, it's the middle of exams. What even?' But inspiration doesn't have a time or place; it just strikes. Just kidding, this is something I wrote as a short story for school. Even so, it isn't too bad so I wanted to share it with those who haven't already seen it. Hope you enjoy it! -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Starship Helios It had been twenty long, arduous years and I was eagerly waiting to land. Twenty years of travelling at lightspeed, hoping to find salvation. Hoping for another chance. A chance to begin again. My name is Alex Parker, and this is my story. It began when humanity lost Earth. The year was 2500. We had all seen it coming; but when the last plant withered, and the last drop of water dried up, it felt like Mother Nature sighing, and breathing her last breath. The population had drastically declined to a few t...

Hullo! Okay, so I open the blog, and I see the last post was 6 months ago, and first I feel guilty, then I feel shamed, and then I decide to write. I soon realize that this is a fantastic topic, as who knows how many people have ballerinas as their muses? So, here comes The Muse's Melody from The Pencil. (Of course, I can't write this without acknowledging my in-house ballerina and treasure trove of ballet history, Priyanshi Parikh. She has been a massive help, and I hope I was able to capture some of the feeling I've seen in her when she dances.) -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The ballerina took a breath as she recounted her journey. Her father sitting on an old rickety stool as he grinned at her over the canvas, "My little muse. One day you shall get far."  The first day at training, the falls and the pain. The practice and the music. The world of her own are...