Pradipna Stories

A few words of suffering Makes an entry to the stone heart With the purpose of tearing it apart An ensemble of emotions Accompanied with tears Makes every word an enormous rock Like the one, which doesn't move But slowly breaks that stone heart A fragile sympathy is then born From the womb of unresolved conflicts The mind falls into a treacherous trap Where the shackles of insecurity Slowly embraces the nerves of the brain Beware of this Fragile Sympathy It's a slow poison that will engulf your good soul Making it fall prey to the evil intentions

December is like a flower . This poem brings out December in its full bloom.

A facade holding back the light Giving rise to many chronicles I hold my gaze and frame steady Later, will reminisce about the memory The smell of a new season The arrival of the festivities Monday blues turn to vibrant hues The rest of the week passes by without a clue With its open arms, the sky invites me A rain drop falls followed by an army

In a not too distant future, we will exist as humans but with a soul made of digital veins. The blood in our body will be replaced by programmatic cells.