Ishtaa Vedanth

a small token of kindness [ 17th september 2025, wednesday ] 
          
          broken fury, dead incitement, delirium stitched in emotions. yearning winds, fanning destructions, branches that bury their homelands. 
          
          systemic disorientations, horrors owed to joys that bleed. mysterious differences, confusions constructed, alarms that ring but souls that refuse to awaken. 
          
          blaring conquerors, forgotten tunnels, coffee cooling beside unmade dread. thrumming fingertips, raging purposes, metamorphosis: humans crawling, carrying everyday banters. 
          
          the sun with a thousand eyes, the night with hidden crimes, feathers drowned in poet's ink. sorrows of lyrics, wings lost in the blue, life that feeds one melancholy, souls distilling it into hope. 
           #adropofhumanity

a small token of kindness [ 01st september, 2025 — monday] 
          
          words plated in heirlooms, heavy with light,
          tinkling cuts, dazzling wounds —
          weaponry forged from childhood gloom,
          wars cradled in a mother’s stolen womb. 
          
          windmills bow above folded clothes,
          grandmother’s peach crumble cooling on the sill.
          cottages lean, tethered with ghosts —
          growth a gamble, memory the wager. 
          
          tender hearts rest in greasy hands,
          coloured proses, begotten rhyme.
          measuring the gaps of fleeting hours,
          tidy rooms against the storm of rest. 
          
          roads of chemicals, an age of hearts,
          souls displaced, refugees of home.
          effervescence rushes, skeletons mist-bound —
          a tale as old as precedents. 
          
          labyrinthine dashes, nuance permitted,
          olives of faith, olives betrayed.
          a marathon — glass slippers sublime —
          and all of life becomes a floor for dancing,
          a garden for incitement,
          a bloom pressed against time. 
           #adropofhumanity 

a token of kindness [ 24th august, 2025 — sunday ] 
          
          where comes the chaos? soar and sin, the culprit,
          from the lodging inns. surrendered and sought,
          beavering, bold— a little of the timid, a lot of the known. 
          
          swinging with pride, doors left unknocked,
          a guest invited under intoxication’s hold.
          forging, jeopardising, guided by homely apple-pie servings; bruised words swept beneath the rug of humility. 
          
          barks and bellows, odours, open wounds,
          entangled chairs and a single creaking move.
          whisper, then wait, tremors that carry
          a mouth of screams— beginning and dying
          in a parched throat. 
          
          kalopsia and kites— a guest like ropeburn,
          pricking like wine. mindful maps, mindless routes,
          sanctuaries like lies that bury the truth.
          shadows stumble, shoes fade—
          a blessing strikes a menace, transforming a paper cut into a prayer. 
           #adropofhumanity 

a token of kindness [ 18th august 2025, monday ] 
          
          "green and gold, bumblebees and blooms, notorious affairs of the innocent homes; half of wounds are entombed in windy trails, while the remaining lie maimed in terraces aged. 
          
          eye and a wisdom tooth, bear and tear, wavelets of death caressing the feeble veil; garbled silences in pictures hung, hung were the joys of the crusted youth. keepsakes assignable, september — a bright shy; one step of risk, one step of ice. 
          
          cliffs and cuts that swallow the shore, earth is an art with its slinky tides and falling feathers; rhythm and rhyme mold the blood, like granules of sand that recognise a home in your skin. 
          
           liquor and tea, a prison and a poison; every scream becomes a rotten whisper. quite a wonder, the heart one carries with pride, the same which injures the soul — punished with suffocation behind clasping ribs, where it beats and beats, severing its rest."
           #adropofhumanity 

Spreading a little Euphoria!
          If you're looking for stunning covers, banners, aesthetics, and more — my graphic shop Euphoria is officially open!
          Feel free to stop by, place an order, and let your imagination come to life.
          
          https://www.wattpad.com/story/392395546?utm_source=android&utm_medium=link&utm_content=story_info&wp_page=story_details_button&wp_uname=whos_shreeya

Wanted to write a chapter, but wattpad is working only when I turn on mobile data. Its got some problem with my jio wifi

Hello!!
          I am new author, pls give my work a try, ur votes n comments will be highly appreciated, txx!
          https://www.wattpad.com/story/368582953-lifeline

Uttaraa glanced at the flickering fire of the diya. Normally, she would rush to save it from the wind, but now she had neither the energy nor the hope to do so.
          
          Her father always said that she was the light of their kingdom and that her name suited her perfectly. Uttaraa bitterly chuckled at the irony - the light of the kingdom was now not burning.
          
          She was young but not naive; she knew that her marriage was just a political strategy. Her father wanted to be close to the mighty Pandavas, and the Pandavas wanted military strength for the war.
          
          Uttaraa remembered how she first met her husband, Abhimanyu. He was radiant, engrossed in a deep conversation with his brothers. His curly hair, his gentle smile - everything about him was like a magnet that drew her in.
          
          Six seasons, or one year, was all she had with him.
          He left her far too early.
          
          He smiled a goodbye before leaving for the battlefield. He had asked her to rest well for the health of their baby - their first child. Uttaraa had grown up in a large household and dreamed of having a big family herself.
          
          When she first discovered her pregnancy, she was delighted. She and her husband, her Naatha, were going to become parents. That night, she imagined her child would look just like his father - with the same curly hair and gentle smile.
          
          The thought had filled her with joy.
          
          Uttaraa glanced at the sleeping Parikshita in her arms. He looked exactly how she had imagined - just like his father. At first, the thought had delighted her.
          
          But now, everything hurt. Looking at her infant, she cried silently, remembering her husband. Her Naatha.
          
          He was everything she needed, but he left her alone in the journey of life. All alone.
          
          ---- 
          bear with me lol. Idk why Im writing this much these days XD

Subhadra always loved the ocean. She grew up near the shore, enjoying the gradient shades of blue and brown. Full moon nights at the shore were her favourites. She often visited the shore at those times with her brothers.
          
          Her earliest memory of those days was running across the beach, trying not to get caught by her brothers. Her hair attracted the moist, salty air, and her giggles spread across the beach as her sisters-in-law sat near a tree, enjoying the night glow of Dvaraka.
          
          Another of her favourite memories at the shore was when she and Arjuna had just got married. He picked up a seashell and proudly presented it to Subhadra. According to Arjuna, the seashell was unique, just like his wife. Subhadra then realised that Arjuna certainly knew how to flatter people, thanks to his friendship with Krishna.
          
          Seashells were special to her heart ever since then.
          
          Her son, Abhimanyu, was the naughtiest of all the children she knew. He often rivalled Samba in terms of mischief. She and Abhimanyu would spend their free time at the shore. Even without Arjuna beside her, Subhadra felt a bit happy. Her son - her life - was with her. Abhimanyu was like a charm to Subhadra. Whenever he was near, she would be genuinely happy, forgetting all the tragic incidents that had taken place in their family.
          
          Abhimanyu often made designs on the sand and proudly showed them to Subhadra, trying his best to impress her. Little did he know that every single action he did, even without effort, impressed his mother.
          
          The happy moments at the shore eventually turned into sombre ones. Subhadra sat near the tree, glancing at the rising waves. The night glow of Dvaraka faded; Dvaraka itself faded. Darkness enveloped everything. Seashells no longer felt special to her. Her Abhi, her little boy, had left her forever. He departed, taking her happiness with him.
          
          The shore now held only memories; ones that would never be seen again.
          
          -----
          
          Tried writing after ages lol. How's it?

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