It’s the beginning of a chapter,
What’s written has been writ
But the fresh, blank paper
Has not a blot of ink on it.
.
A rose white page
A filled, black pen
You’ve written the beginning
Now continue with the end.
.
Hey! Here’s a 3 month late New Years poem that I did write around the right time, but couldn’t publish. Now the rest of my exams have been postponed due to the virus, here’s my (very delayed) first post of 2020, ‘New Year’.
.
~
ARSHIA VORA
And she was a star
Who shone so bright,
She burned herself
To prove her might.
~
ARSHIA VORA
The butterfly gave its wings
a flutter
Lands far away dissolved
in thunder
If a butterfly flaps its wings in the right place, at just the right time, it can cause a hurricane thousands of miles away.
Chaos Theory
~
ARSHIA VORA
A sparkling plane of cosmic size
Glistening waves that incessantly mesmerize
Emrald green, glittering turquoise
Graceful, smooth, full of poise.
.
Endearing, tugging at the eyes,
Playing the Siren, pulling us inside
A writhing monster, having enough,
Thirsting for more,
A power hidden from our eyes
By delicate waves and crafty lies.
.
So huge, so massive, ginormous size
Unable to fathom,
Dragging large ships to their knees,
Playing a pirate to pirates
Massacring fleets
Hiding and burying everything beneath.
.
And when the day is sunny
And the birds are warbling merry
And you feel safe and sound
One day, this colossal being will pounce
No swords, no guns, you can’t run forever
There will come a time to submit yourself to the terror.
~
ARSHIA VORA
Teachers are the torchbearers of our future. Day in and day out we curse the education system but deep (very deep) down, we all know that knowledge is better than nescience.
Every child is like a delicate flower, and one can never be sure whether a particular stimulus will make it bloom….or wilt.
With relation to the topic, YES. I believe that teachers must be graded.
Every teacher has undergone the same rigorous training, sat through the same lectures, attended the same colleges, nurtured the same dreams- so what makes them different? It is their personalities. Each teacher has a different way of working, a different way of conducting lectures, in just the same way that every class has an overall, average personality. A lot of times a teacher and her students are not personality compatible. This can result in chaos in the class and frustration at both ends.
Teachers will only enjoy teaching if their students love them. They will never understand what a student really needs unless they receive some feedback. The roses will wilt slowly in the background.
~
Arshia Vora
Published in the Hindustan Times Newspaper dated 11/10/2018 .
I wish.
I wish I had the power with words
That could twist through you like a fork
Bring you great agony
Cause you to stir a mutiny
Against every wrong in the world
About how people everyday suffer.
Because they have no food,
No clothes, no house, no job.
But that power isn’t mine,
I really wish it was.
.
I wish
I wish I could make you understand
That the joy you see,
Is a mirage, a fake mirror
Built around to protect you
But through those cracks you’ll see,
How people truly suffer.
They plaster on that old fake smile
But really they are breaking inside
Cracking to pieces
Under the weight of the world
Carrying all their burdens
Upon their shoulders
But that power isn’t mine,
I really wish it was.
.
I wish
I wish I could open up your eyes
To view Mother Nature as she dies
Like the cancer that creeps up your veins
Eradicating, killing, everything in its way
Humans accompanied by their lies
Are doing nothing for their lives
They fail to hear nature’s waning cries
But that power isn’t mine
I really wish it was.
.
I wish
I wish I was able to guide you right,
Away from the world and its fake guise
Out of the veil into reality,
Where people have no health and no money
Where their wills are slowly cracking,
Lives are slowly blackening;
To get you to help them in any way possible
Stop the world from dying
At a rate abnormal.
Do everything you could,
Want to make them feel understood
End the problems of the world,
Take out the lemon from the hurt
But that power isn’t mine
I really wish it was.
~
ARSHIA VORA
Runner up at the National Poetry Competition conducted by Robinage (BrightSparks). Appeared in the Robinage newspaper published in June.
