Sherjil @ PaGaLGuY cynicalruchi @ PaGaLGuY Surabhi30 @ PaGaLGuY sam1nitb @ PaGaLGuY emily6 @ PaGaLGuY mba4oldman @ PaGaLGuY @Buck.up @naga25french @missionCAT13 ... Pl read

For sure, U'l find ur old days back after reading this poem.... Enjoy !

बचपन और जवानी

सावन के झूले देखे , बारिश का पानी देखा |
पतझड़ के पत्ते देखे , किस्से कहानी देखा ||
हवा की नरमी देखी , ऋतुएं सुहानी देखा |
बचपन के सवालो में निरउत्तर जवानी देखा ||
गीली मिटटी के बर्तन पर सूरज की किरणे देखी...
उलझे धागों में लिपटी पत्थर की गिट्टी देखी ...
उड़ती पतंगों संग हिलती मांझा और सद्दी देखी ...
बिस्तर के नीचे से ताश की गड्डी देखी ...
ऊँगली के इशारों पर नाचता कंचा देखा ...
मोहल्ले के नुक्कड़ पर चाकू तमंचा देखा ...
लट्टू घुमाते बूढ़े और बच्चे देखे ...
नमक से खाते आम कई कच्चे देखे ...
लैला दीवानी का मजनू दीवाना देखा |
प्यार की कसमे देखी , राजा हिन्दुस्तानी देखा ||
सावन के झूले देखे , बारिश का पानी देखा |
पतझड़ के पत्ते देखे , किस्से कहानी देखा ||
पर न देखा हमने शुकून फिर दोबारा ...
माँ के आँचल में छिपता गमो का पिटारा ...
न चकोर का चांदनी से मेल मिलाप ...
न कोयल का भोर में सुनाई देता आलाप ...
मुंह मोड़ते रिश्तो की कई सारी बातें देखी |
आंसुओ में सिमटी कई तनहा रातें देखी ||
बड़े क्या हुए उलझनों की सौगातें देखी |
रेत पर गायब होती कई मुलाकातें देखी ||
न स्वच्छ ह्रदय ही देखे , न रगों में रवानी देखा |
न मदद करते हाथो की कोई निशानी देखा ||
फिर न सावन के झूले देखे , न बारिश का पानी देखा |
न पतझड़ के पत्ते देखे , न किस्से कहानी देखा || ----- कविराज तरुण

​

Although this poem is having comic timing... but pl hv an eye on its serious note:

MY LAST DATE

My last date is starting wid a candle of light;
My eyes being sparkled coz my wish is so bright;
i dont know its just feeling or strength of my sight;
but a hope is still here wid a bit of fright;
My last date is starting wid a candle of light;
What happened wid timing, hazing of dark;
sky being cloudy, wid gathering of spark;
n one thing in my hand, its waiting of car;

JUST WAITING N WAITING N WAITING SO FAR........

My last date is starting wid a candle of light;
My last date is starting wid a candle of light;
Time is playing wid me so hard;
Is someone doing whatever wizard;
I get tired to fumbling of card;
Time is playing wid me so hard;
and soon i realize its being too late;
Tell me plz how till i wait;
Candle go melt n turning of light ;
darkness is telling its being so night;
Then i cut my nerves to end off my life;
bleeding is started n vacuum arise;
My eyes get closing heart beating is tough;
n my soul my emotion my feeling get rough;
I saw this bleeding who break my life's jar;

JUST BLEEDING N BLEEDING N BLEEDING SO FAR........

N when i touch beginning of my last sight;
i look at gate n she is there right;
she runs towards me but what can i do;
my eyes then closed n nothing will do;
OH ! I LOST MY SOUL--- ITS A GREAT HAUL--- in My Last Date...................

(Kaviraj Tarun) :

SAMVEDNA: My Last Date : A Poetry, close to my heart

The Magician

“Do you want to see some magic?” A voice asked her, from behind.

Rinita was late already. It was half past ten in the night and yet she was on the road, almost a mile away from her home. The institution from which she was returning made them leave late tonight. Moreover, she chatted with her boyfriend for some time before ultimately leaving the place. She had already called her home to tell that she'd be reaching late tonight. But still, ten-thirty in the night at this part in Kolkata in this time of the year is not safe at all. Winter is on the cards, so the possibilities of people roaming around late were next to nil. What was worse, there was a sociopath killer on the move.

“Do you want to see some magic?” The voice asked again.

Rinita looked back.

Before her, stood a medium heighted fellow. He was slightly bent, and even if she couldn't see his face, it looked like as if age has started marking its presence on his spinal cords first. His hands were stretched forward, and together they made a sign of an appeal, as if he were to start his tricks from the very word 'go'. He wore a dark long coat, unusually long for a regular city-walker to wear. A pure leather - for sure, for whatever lights there were on the footpath, were reflected and left a glistening effects to the surroundings. His face was covered, not from some masks, or any clothing, but the top hat he wore, hid his face completely beneath that, making him look like a faceless monster.

She, though being a bold city girl, suddenly tasted fear out of nowhere. She looked around, and realised the road was unusually lonely that night.

“Who are you?” She shouted.

“I show people tricks – magic tricks. Tricks that they enjoy. In return they give me money. Only if they get entertained, that is.” The man smiled from beneath his dark hat.

A high class beggar, perhaps? Rinita thought.

The dark face smiled again. Another silent smile.

“…but certainly not a beggar.” He clarified.

It was her turn to be amazed now. He read her mind. How could he? It was really something extraordinary. Rinita got interested.

“Well,” the man continued, “Then you will be more fascinated to see this” as he drew a piece of brown cloth from his pocket and whirled it round her head.

Rinita blinked. And then when she looked at his hands again, the piece of cloth was gone. But instead, she saw a brown hawk sitting in his left shoulder. A living, brown hawk. Its head was still, bent at an angle that gave her a feel that it has been watching her since ages with its eyes fixed on hers.

“Every magician has a pet. He's mine.” The voice said.

Rinita gave a sigh of relief.

And then after five more minutes of more tricks and entertainment, the man paused.

“So… are you ready for my last magic? The magic of all magics, the queen of the best magics in the world – are you ready for it? “

Rinita smiled. The man certainly knew how to build up a stage to perform something. But the only problem was that, she was very late.

“I am sorry, I'll have to go. I am very late tonight. And besides, my family will be worried.”

The man fell silent. He drew his hands closer, as if he didn't expect it to happen. And then he said, “This is the magic where I create fire. Don't you want to watch it?”

She looked at him. This silence, it was going to kill her anyway.

“Never mind.” The man laughed out. “You have your urgency. So until we meet again, good bye.” He took his hat off and brought it down to present a full bow.

Rinita looked at his eyes now, as he stood on his feet straight. They were brownish, and had a yellow flame in them. She had always heard about the eyes those magicians have… attractive, gorgeous, deep and appealing. There was something in his eyes that asked something to her. And she realised she could neither move or take her away from that place to anywhere, as if her body was stoned to death at the same place for ages.

The hawk flew away, with a sudden cry, as the darkest paths of the city remained silent, with the half-moon hovering in the December sky amongst the thin fog spread across the city. The high rise buildings in the distant places remained the proof of a man walking under a dark top hat, throwing a piece of white paper which resembled something like a visiting card to the body which lied still in the footpath…hands spread, head bent and eyes that were not going to see anything of this mortal world. And a thin bloodline ended in the nearby drain which seemed to start somewhere near the neck. She was dead.

With silence, the piece of paper fell somewhere very near the body. And then two words appeared out of nowhere in it. It was his last trick that night.

'The Magician'

कुछ अनकही सी अधूरी रचनाएँ.

चरागों की तरह झुलस रहे थे हम न

लौ दिखी किसी को न धुँआ इधर नज़रे फिरा सका | - प्रवीन "साहिल"

कुछ अनकही सी अधूरी रचनाएँ.

Color in her

eyes

never failed

to darken her

dreams for

she was in wait

Wait which

was endless

enough

to kill her

He never feels

locked up in your

heart but safe

to stay somewhere

he is always

going to be valued

for life

and death

hey puys,

pls have a look at some of my poems and let me know wht u think?

> Poems by racinghorror"> > Poems by racinghorror" href="http://www.gotpoetry.com/Poems/l_op=Showpoet/poet=racinghorror.html">Poems by racinghorror

शिथिल कदमो से आगे बढता जा रहा था

शब्दों को जोड़-तोड़ गड़ता जा रहा था

अवशेषों में कुछ यूँ ढूँढता

अभिलाषा फिर भी कही नहीं दीखी

व्योम सा व्याकुल

बुदबुदा कर मानो समझाता -

झीण सी स्वास भी जान है

अधिरायी सी मानसी भी मान है

कुछ यूँ धूल झोककर आत्मा को

चल देता है वह फिर

अपूर्णता की ओर.......

The Night Train

It was past midnight when the train screeched to a halt at some unknown station.

Shruti woke up. Surprisingly, the compartment was empty. She looked outside the window...

Dark was outside. Distances away forest began, a dense one. It was one of the forests of eastern Madhya Pradesh – through which the lines of the rail passed.

People try to sleep in darkness, when they are alone, but she does not. Rather she tries to hear strange sounds, if any are there. She tries to smell those things which are abstract, like the pages of old book, chhatim flowers, the wooden benches, the railings of windows...

Now someone entered into the coupe. Middle heighted man, and to her disgust, switched on the light.

He was a middle aged man, placing his bag under the seat.

“Turn out the light.” She said.

There was no answer. Rather, he turned to her and their eyes met. His was yellow, and had a painful look.

“Turn out the light.” She said again.

He sat on the seat slowly, but nevertheless taking his eyes apart from her, smiled a little.

“Yes I will.” He said.

“Do it now.”

“Don’t you like it?”

She was about to answer something, but stopped. Months, years she has passed in darkness, but didn’t she like the light? Didn’t she want to join her friends coming out of her loneliness? Yes she did. But she feared to do, because she feared to remind...

And then he told something which shivered her.

“You are hurt, by some ways.”

She fell silent.

“May be an old liking, love or something like that, has hurt you a lot.” The man said.

“...what?” she said anyway.

“Here... I turn out the light now.”

And the light was switched off.

The man lied down the bench, but she sat still. In the same darkness, the train ran at its highest speed.

She feared to remind, and he helped to do it again.

Reminding about past is never easy. The words of the man, thoughts of chhatim flowers, and dark night... took her to twenty years age... the day... a sharp, lightened afternoon saw her hesitant before a boy, and for the first time, she was lost in the world of colours, seasons and happiness. For the first time, she discovered love and liking in this world, and afterwards, an irresistible force called her again and again to the place he lived. Love – she found in the first hours of sunrise, in the red clouds of sunset, in the night dark sky standing alone on the roof. Flowers... songs... happy surroundings... if you have ever been in love, you will know – if there is something called God... it is love.

And then it was a Friday he committed suicide. Not much news she got, but some family problems..., with which he could not cope up with, killed himself.

Since then, she is alone, inside darkness and silence... companion-less... perhaps waiting for him...

As the first lights of morning reflected into the coupe, she didn’t find the man on the seat. Rather, bizarre feelings popped up her head when she remembered the man’s face very much alike with that of the boy she loved…died fifteen years ago.

The Mayhem inside.
Waiting can cruelly rape the patience in me
Waiting can brutally kill the feeling in me
I wish u understand what is the time
I wish u understand what is the mime
Its been just few days yours and mine
Reality can wash off my stained mind
Reality can wash off the fear I find
I wish u understand what is the reality
I wish u understand what is the tranquility
Its been just few days yours and mine
Addiction can set me back
Addiction can get me sack
I wish u understand the habit
I wish u understand a little bit
Its just few days yours and mine
With confusion as another sign,
I cant let my self in grime
nor ask u to give me the time.

Another picture. Less of editing. More of writing stuff. Used Creative Kit of Picasa and a bit of gimp.



The text originates from a t-shirt quote once I saw from a friend's.


And thus again I realised I am lacking new ideas. :|

Poems are just reflection of what you are and what you see around - People whom you speak , thing which you have /lost .

When all the negative thoughts come into your system from various sources like your own disappointment ,people around sharing their disappointments , cribbing by a friend , etc , you will feel something like this :

Struggle is my life
It’s always here with me
I know there are many
With problems worse than I

My worst enemy is not life
But It’s Only Me…
I feel everyone is better than me
I feel I can’t do anything

This is how I felt my whole life
And it didn’t start last night
I try & try to erase the pain
All my efforts go in vain

No one could ever understand
Why I want my death sooner than planned
It’s not something good for me
But to end my pain this is what has to be

God’s Child I am
But they say I’m awful
It hurts it pains
My life is an Endless struggle I say

A Beautiful Damsel

@sonamaries7 said:

u mean u dint sketch the woman and teh bushes used in the scene...u probably picked a pic and then used brushes, right...

@sonamaries7 said:

my work?!...newbie....have just downloaded gimp..dunno even how to use it! ...any tips fr starters?..how to get going?

@banu2312 said:

Everything you see is made up using different brushes. btw why don't you put up your works too?

@sonamaries7 said:

for this pic of urs...did u use the pics of a woman and the bushes below and wrked on those in layers??..or was it a complete scene where u just used the brushes?P.S: awesome work...am also trying my hands on gimp these days

@banu2312 said:

On days like this, I have nothing to do but sit at my computer and use gimp to make some useless stuff. Here's one. I have started believing that I'm becoming less creative. No new thoughts.

J for Joker


I realized there were only stacks of cards in the room. I flipped through them and realized something; the joker was missing in all the packs... which, I had to use somewhere.


“CID thinks, may be a mentally disbalanced one is responsible for the murders, to which I contradict.” I muttered.


It was a dark December night, and my house, being some distances away from the core of the town, remained silent and dark, and as alone as its master.

There were dreamy blue scent of chhatim and other flowers coming from my garden, and the glasses of the windows – were pierced by the light of the lamppost standing outside on the road. Night, smell, loneliness...these were my only companions, after my wife left this world.


“CID thinks, may be a mentally disbalanced one is responsible for the murder, to which I contradict.” I muttered again.


Last week, my wife was killed, being the fourth prey of a killer, who leaves a certain sign after the murders.


I took up the newspaper and eyed the heading reflecting the four at a row murder case.

“...and taking the last, four persons have been killed by the same murderer. The first three were inside the town, and the fourth is just nine kilometers away from the town. The killer, according to police, is a psychopath who leaves his presence by a certain sign – a joker card. CID is investigating for...”


“Mentally unstable, joker card... hah ha” I laughed out loud breaking the silence of the room.

“They are searching for the mad person like bulldogs, and here is your murderer.” I said.


It was easy, very easy. I was planning to get all the properties of my wife, and suddenly came across a story heading ‘ABC murder case’. I turned my plan to ABCD murder, and at last here I am, with properties worth six crores.



From the farthest part of the town, where the old temples exist, sounds kept coming of barking of dogs, and except that, sounds in my room of ticking of the wall clock.


People try to sleep in darkness, in silence, when they are alone. But I do not. Rather, I try to hear strange sounds; try to smell those things which are abstract. Like the railings of windows, the wooden benches. Have you ever tried to find the smell of night? It is a soft, gentle and charming one – like those of chhatim flowers.


I took my gun again. The bloody gun, which took all the four lives. And a last work is to be done. I have to kill my last enemy, tonight.


And the next day, police will find another body in the house. Similarities – the joker card, the same murderer. Difference – case of a suicide.

Okay so I'll be away for a few days. Wishing happy Holi to everyone in advance. Here is a picture I made. :D

Enjoy the holiday. :mg:

My First Post on this thread

Another 50 word fiction :)


Crime


"I am afraid it is a murder." Officer said.

"I heard no sounds. We were sleeping."

He looked at me, and wanted a napkin.

"Sure." I gave him my own.

...and I regretted.

But it was too late.

The blood-stained napkin was the only proof of my wife's murder.

Another flash fiction. :)



The Last Walk Together


The boy came down that evening to meet her, with a hidden wish to gift her a rose from the local flower market, only to find her standing with another boy.

“We’ll walk together.” She said.

Three shadows move in the dark. Two are close, one moving apart. The loner is still in the thoughts of gifting the girl that rose.

Two of them move together, lost in their conversations, moments later discovering the third one’s absence.

The boy manages to push the crowd and catch them again, after a few minutes.

“Here you are” The girl smiles.

He looks at her. A streak of her hair falls on her forehead, making her look like the most beautiful girl of the world.

The three have chocolates. The other boy holds the girl’s hands and draws her forward. They smile and laugh together. And then they kiss.



The wind blows now. It brings the scent of the Eucalyptus leaves with it, the scent of the Chhatim flowers and the traces of December chill.

The boy bids them goodbye. The girl takes the road straight ahead, while the other boy vanishes in the dark and he, takes the turn and walks back home.

He never really knew what was about the walk back home that he loved so much.



And for the years that will come, he’ll realise why he failed to gift her the rose from the flower market that evening.

@sonamaries7 well I don't have much idea whether it's portable in mobile. I searched and found that there is an application called gimp in some android phones, so it is possible. But I'd suggest you do it in pc / laptop solely because it's a lot spacious with mouse and a computer and it requires a lot of selecting, dragging, clicking adjusting stuff which may be problematic for a mobile.

@banu2312 said:

I'm also learning. Install the brushes and start experimenting right away.

@sonamaries7 said:

@banu2312 : u seem to be a genius with gimp...am a newbie ...can u guide me as to how to go abt it?

@banu2312 : u seem to be a genius with gimp...am a newbie ...can u guide me as to how to go abt it?

On days like this, I have nothing to do but sit at my computer and use gimp to make some useless stuff. Here's one. :|





I have started believing that I'm becoming less creative. :|

No new thoughts. :(

Time for a poem then. :P

Please don't say it's bad. Because I already know it is bad. It was written when I was 19. Long time ago.

Anyway, here it is.


Alone I am

Alone I was
So I am again

Gardens full of roses
Which...of course, signed love.
'Fairest among women, she is.'
I used to tell myself then.
And the lone sigh now,
From the deepest of heart.
Faces behind the face
Which I know.

Is there 'love' or 'liking'
In the world of dejection
And treachery,
I ask myself.

Whole night rains...
Outside, or the eyes?

And then I got something
Precious; you can say.
My diary...with those lines
on the first page.

'A writer's life is yours
Whoever comes your way
Writings do not change
Writers do not change

Love doesn't change.'

@banu2312 If u r using UBUNTU then upgradation is possible & for windows u have to download it

@shattereddream said:

@banu2312 which version of GIMP u use i have GIMP 2.8

@banu2312 which version of GIMP u use i have GIMP 2.8

@cynicalruchi I didnt get any notification for this post.
GIMP is a open source photo editing software you can download it and use them it has many functions you have to unlock its potential.
I have used both GIMP and Photoshop and will give photoshop one marks higher than GIMP .

@shattereddream said:

@banu2312 the pics i edited are there in my PC which is at home so cant upload any pic right now . Your works are good

@banu2312 the pics i edited are there in my PC which is at home so cant upload any pic right now . Your works are good

Another couple of pictures I wanted to add, just to show how well you can use Picnik to use different fonts on dark background.





The second one has a couple of strokes of gimp brushes. These are actually very basic level experimenting stuff. If you have just started editing and stuff, keep making these little things and you'll have a fair idea on how and where you can use different things.

Another example how to create a multi-layered picture in GIMP.

1. Build the base. I have used 12 cracks brushes to build the base of this picture. You can try texts, figures, buildings, silhouette, blood drops anything you want.



2. Build the main theme of the picture. I've used figures and stuff for this one.